There is something funny about walking into dinner through a building that once made people lower their voices, straighten their posture, and count out deposits.
At Strickland’s Steakhouse in downtown Woodbridge, the former Woodbridge National Bank at 106 Main Street has traded teller windows for table service, ledger books for cocktail menus, and serious bank-business energy for the kind of evening that starts with dry-aged beef on display and ends with someone saying, “Okay, that was cool.”
The bones of the place still matter.
You feel it in the arched windows, the exposed brick, the high-ceilinged upstairs dining room, and especially the old 106 vault, which is less a gimmick than a reminder that this restaurant did not move into just any empty storefront.
Woodbridge has plenty of familiar dinner options, but Strickland’s has the one thing a standard steakhouse cannot fake: a building with a past.
Step Inside The Former Woodbridge National Bank
Main Street in Woodbridge has always had a little more history under its shoes than people give it credit for. This is New Jersey’s oldest original township, chartered back in 1669, so a restaurant opening inside a former bank building feels weirdly appropriate.
Not old-fashioned, exactly. More like the town found a new use for one of its old stories.
Strickland’s Steakhouse opened in 2023 inside the former Woodbridge National Bank building, a 1900s-era structure that sits right at 106 Main Street. That address matters.
It puts the restaurant in the middle of downtown Woodbridge rather than tucked away in a shopping center, which already gives the place a different rhythm. You arrive on a real street, with local traffic, storefronts, and the feeling that people have been coming to this part of town for errands, appointments, and dinners for generations.
The restaurant is owned by Michael Strickland, a lifelong Woodbridge resident, and Jessica Strickland, whose design work gives the space its polished personality. That local connection helps keep the whole thing from feeling like someone simply slapped velvet chairs into an old building and called it character.
There is a sense that the place was meant to fit Woodbridge, not just impress it. The building does a lot of the heavy lifting before the food even gets involved.
You are not walking into a blank dining room with a few framed black-and-white photos pretending to be history. You are walking into the actual former bank, with enough original personality still visible to make the meal feel anchored to the town.
That is the first surprise. Strickland’s is upscale, yes, but it does not feel airlifted into Woodbridge from somewhere else. It feels like Main Street got dressed up for dinner.
A Steakhouse Where The Building Tells Half The Story
Before the steak arrives, look around. That is the move here.
Strickland’s is one of those restaurants where the room starts talking before the server does, and thankfully, it has more to say than “we bought expensive light fixtures.”
The first floor leans into a lounge mood, with a full bar, banquet seating, leather booths, and a darker, speakeasy-style feel. There is a 20-foot bar stocked for wine, beer, spirits, and signature cocktails, which makes the downstairs feel like the kind of place where you could stop in for a drink and accidentally stay for dinner.
It is not trying to be a museum, but it also does not hide what the building used to be. The bank history is part of the fun.
Upstairs, the room changes. The second-floor dining hall has a 16-foot ceiling, original brick from the historic bank, chandeliers, modern murals, and arched windows that look out over Main Street.
That mix could have gone wrong in about six different ways, but here it works because nothing feels too precious. The brick keeps it grounded.
The chandeliers give it polish. The windows remind you that you are still in Woodbridge, not in some anonymous restaurant district where every dining room has the same faux-luxury playlist.
The two-floor layout also gives the restaurant range. Downstairs feels like drinks, date night, and a slightly mischievous steakhouse mood.
Upstairs feels more like birthdays, family dinners, work celebrations, and private parties. The second floor even has its own bar and can handle large gatherings, which makes sense in a town where people actually show up with cousins, coworkers, and someone’s friend from Colonia.
Plenty of restaurants say the space is part of the experience. At Strickland’s, that is not marketing filler.
The building really is half the story.
The Old Vault That Now Holds Something Better Than Money
Most steakhouses show off a wine wall. Strickland’s gets to show off a vault.
That is not a small advantage. The restaurant’s first-floor lounge is home to the 106 vault and the original vault door, a detail that immediately gives the space a wink of old-bank drama.
It is the kind of thing people notice even if they are pretending to play it cool. You can have a very adult conversation about ribeye temperatures and cocktail choices, but the vault is still sitting there, quietly reminding everyone that this room once had a completely different job.
There are also playful nods to bank robber history, which is exactly the right amount of theatrical. Too much of that and the place could feel like a theme restaurant.
Too little and it would be a missed opportunity. Strickland’s lands in the better middle ground, letting the vault and the original bank details create atmosphere without turning dinner into a costume party.
The best part is that the vault does not feel random. It connects neatly with the restaurant’s dry-aged steak program.
Once upon a time, the building protected money. Now, the most valuable thing in the room might be beef slowly developing flavor with patience and time.
That is a pretty good second act for a bank. The dry-aging display adds to that feeling.
It gives diners something specific to look at and talk about, which is always more interesting than another wall of generic restaurant art. There is a sense of craft in seeing the steaks before they become dinner, and it pairs nicely with the building itself.
Both the meat and the space are selling the same idea: some things get better when they are handled carefully and not rushed. That is what makes the vault detail more than a novelty.
It is memorable, yes, but it also fits. In a restaurant full of polished surfaces and serious steaks, the old vault gives the whole place a little mischief.
Dry-Aged Steaks Are The Main Attraction
Here is where the steakhouse part has to earn its name. A historic building can get people through the door once.
It cannot carry dinner by itself. Strickland’s seems to understand that, because the menu is built around premium dry-aged steaks that are hand selected and aged in-house.
Dry-aging is one of those steakhouse terms that sounds fancy because it actually means something. The process gives the beef time to become more concentrated, more tender, and more deeply flavored.
It is not about covering the steak with sauces or tricks. It is about letting time do something useful.
In a former bank building, that patience feels almost too on-the-nose, but in the best way. The steakhouse staples are here, but the menu is not limited to a slab-of-beef-and-good-luck approach.
You can start with dishes like grilled oysters, jumbo lump crab cake, calamari with Thai chili sauce, thick-cut bourbon bacon, or a dry-aged meatball with ricotta before you even get near the main event.
That last one feels especially on brand, because of course the meatball at the dry-aged steakhouse has to arrive with a little extra confidence.
The sides matter too. Mac and cheese, Brussels sprouts, creamed spinach, and loaded mashed potatoes are the kind of steakhouse supporting cast that can quietly decide whether a table is having a good meal or a great one.
No one wants to admit they came for the side dishes, but everyone remembers the side dishes. Drinks are part of the rhythm as well.
Strickland’s serves beer, wine, spirits, and crafted cocktails, and the happy hour setup gives locals a more casual way into the building. It runs Tuesday through Friday from 2 p.m. to 7 p.m., plus all day Sunday, which is a nice little loophole for anyone who likes their historic-bank dining with a less formal start.
The food does not need to reinvent the steakhouse. It just needs to respect the room, and the dry-aged focus does exactly that.
The Atmosphere Feels Like Old New Jersey With A Polished Twist
New Jersey restaurants can get into trouble when they try too hard to look imported. Strickland’s avoids that by letting the building stay recognizably Woodbridge while still giving the room enough style to feel like a night out.
The first floor has the moodier personality. Dim lighting, leather booths, banquet seating, a full bar, and the vault door give it that “we should order one more drink” feeling without making the place feel stuffy.
It has polish, but not the kind that makes you worry about using the wrong fork. That matters. A steakhouse can be upscale and still let people relax. The second floor is where the building really stretches.
The 16-foot ceiling gives the dining hall a sense of occasion, while the original brick keeps it from feeling too glossy. The arched windows are a small but important detail, especially because they look out onto Main Street.
They make the restaurant feel connected to the town instead of sealed off from it. You are having a special dinner, but you are still very much in Woodbridge.
Jessica Strickland’s design choices help bridge the old and new. Chandeliers and modern murals could have overwhelmed the historic bones of the building, but they add just enough drama.
The result is not a dusty preservation project and not a cold luxury box. It is more interesting than either of those.
There is also something very New Jersey about the balance. The restaurant is dressed up, but it is not trying to act mysterious about what it is.
It is a steakhouse in an old bank on Main Street. It has a vault. It has dry-aged steaks. It has a bar downstairs and a big dining room upstairs.
That directness is part of the appeal. The atmosphere works because it gives you details to remember.
Not vague “nice ambiance” details, either. Actual things: the vault door, the brick, the arched windows, the 20-foot bar, the chandeliers, the view of Main Street.
That is how a restaurant becomes a place people describe to friends instead of just naming.
Why Strickland’s Steakhouse Is Worth The Trip To Woodbridge
Woodbridge is easy to pass through if you are always thinking about the Turnpike, the Parkway, or the next town over. That is a mistake.
Downtown Woodbridge has the kind of local texture that makes a restaurant like Strickland’s feel especially satisfying. It is not floating by itself in a parking lot.
It is part of a Main Street, and that changes the way dinner feels. The practical details are simple enough.
Strickland’s is at 106 Main Street in Woodbridge and is closed on Mondays. It opens at noon Tuesday through Sunday, running until 10 p.m.
Tuesday through Thursday, 11 p.m. Friday and Saturday, and 9 p.m. on Sunday.
Reservations are available, and valet service helps take some of the usual downtown parking anxiety out of the equation. The restaurant makes sense for a few different kinds of nights.
It is a strong date-night pick because the building gives you something to talk about before the appetizers arrive. It works for birthdays and family dinners because the menu has enough classic steakhouse comfort to keep the table happy.
It is also the kind of place you bring someone from out of town when you want to prove New Jersey has restaurants with personality, not just good food. That is the real reason Strickland’s stands out.
The steak matters. The cocktails matter.
The service and the room matter. But the combination is what makes it memorable.
A dry-aged steakhouse inside the former Woodbridge National Bank is specific in a way too many restaurants are not. You remember where you were sitting.
You remember the vault. You remember the feeling of walking into a building that used to guard money and now guards a very good dinner.
Strickland’s does not need to shout about being unexpected. The building handles that the second you walk in.