The steak

Sorry for the long silence. I haven't been steaking for a while; I suppose that will be a plus in my "grade book" of health when I face my maker in the end. Well, the drinking won't help, but the minus-red meat might.

Anyway, a comment on how it all went, this Kobe deal, and why I am totally disillusioned: number one, fuck Kobe steak. It's all a fucking myth. People, in all my explorations, I've found that the so-called Kobe steak is probably a wholly fabricated article, like "Genuine" Pacific salmon or whatever you wish to insert in the blanks. These assholes can invent whatever they want to describe the product. Genuine Kobe beef is not only not from Kobe, but the whole story about how it got to your plate is a labyrinthine mystery worthy of Agatha Christie. Chances are, it's not Japanese, it wasn't massaged with beer, and it's an entire crock of shit.

So never, NEVER, trust anyone when they say it's genuine Kobe beef. I've been there, baby, and it wasn't from Kobe, and it is doubtful that the entire appellation has any meaning at all.

For the record, the "Kobe beef" that I paid 200 fucking dollars for at Atlantique was absolutely terrible, riddled with inedible gouts of fat and just a vast pool of regret that I live with to this day.

Enough with the Kobe beef experiments; having gone directly to the source in Japan, I can safely say that it's all a bunch of fucking hype.