Saturday, October 26, 2013

Fuck This Steakhouse

I wish that many people in my life were equipped with a switch located on the back of their heads where I could shut them down or power them back up at my leisure. I would for sure flip the off switch on anyone who tried to get me to come back to Mastro's Steakhouse. After dinner here last night, I concluded that I am sick of this overpriced and under flavored high end steakhouse horseshit and Mastro's is the last pile of dung that I care to step in. Finished, I tell you. I got a nice bone in filet, which was well aged and cooked a proper medium rare all served on a sizzling platter. Also, some very decent brussel sprouts, sauteed spinach, scalloped potatoes, and a chopped salad. And some oysters Rockerfeller to start out. But I could have bailed out of jail for less money. More than 50 bucks for a steak like this was more like aggravated sodomy than it was highway robbery. The vegetables were good, but very very salty. I felt this meal had so much salt in it that I was being cured like a country ham from the inside. The potatoes as well. I did not know that cheese was the star topping on oysters Rockerfeller. I thought it was supposed to be Hollandaise sauce. The chopped salad was tasty and served in a cold bowl, but it was really a Greek Salad and should be labeled as such. But I want to point out the highlights of this meal. The pretzel bread, and all the breads for that matter were out of this world good. I mean fantastic. The chopped salad was worth every cent of the 12 bucks that it cost. Also, I felt that the busboys and runners were very friendly, kind and professional. Our server was too, but the busboy and the runners attitudes were really impressive. When I was eating my filet, I kept thinking "COLD ROAST BEEF" as in a Stephen King short story. This hunk of beef was just a waste of a great steak. I kept wondering how this thing would have tasted if I had ordered the same cut at Park's BBQ or Solwoon Galbi. I am sure that the Koreans would have converted the filet into something well seasoned, tasty, satisfying and worthy. Grilled over charcoal, of course. American steakhouses need to take their un-imaginative preparations of beef served in mammoth portions and ram it up their snouts. This steak was so anti climactic that I almost felt like I needed to jerk off when I got home.

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