Whatever kind of grandpa you got, New York Prime will fix him right up. Maybe he was a freckled kid during World War II, raised on Trumanburgers and scarred by the memory of meat-rationing stamps — won't he get a kick out of this million-dollar question: "How would you like that double-rib veal chop cooked, sir?" Say he's a guy who took scissors one time and cut every mention of your name out of his last will and testament: Let the nasty old tightwad squirm over the price of your $84, 40-ounce porterhouse; hope he chokes on his Beefeater martini. Retired Master of the Universe with megayacht parked at Boca Resort? Daddy Warbucks will feel right at home surrounded by his fellow Masters. Slaved for the phone company 45 years and never missed a day? Then he damned well deserves a steak dinner: Order him a Maker's Mark on the rocks, a big lobster cocktail, and a prime New York strip, garnished with a side of cheese mashed potatoes, and give the old dude a sneak preview of heaven.