Meats

That's a proper steak knife all right.

There're good steakhouses in most of USA. Since we're here, a dinner with the friends was fixed at John Howie Steak (Seastar is under his branding too). It's at the area of The Bravern, right next door to Neiman Marcus in Bellevue, if you're interested. The evening was freezing, cold by non-Russian and Scandinavian standards.

What I like, is how steakhouses in this city have got a proper decent and tasty vegetarian menu, and there're always substantial gluten-free options. Half the table went to town with the steaks, the other half merrily ordered the sides and every other option. I was eyeing the 8oz lobster tails till I saw "Australian". Wait a minute. Why would I want to order an Australian rock lobster here, as sumptuous it might be? Swopped that for a Maine lobster mash. This restaurant has a section for potatoes. Hahahah. Painfully, I didn't order the mac and cheese. Totally overdosed on mac and cheese. Probably had it every other day. It's superbly sinful, yet makes me silly-happy.

Look at that gigantic bowl of Maine lobster mash. Luckily it was shared among the table.

Beer and wine arrived prior to the menu decisions. Since I didn't have mac and cheese, I opted for Mac and Jack's amber ale. Hahahaha. Corny, I know, and it's another infusion of empty calories. This table likes alcohol. And we've ascertained that imbibing a lot doesn't turn us aggressive. It affects all of us differently though. Too much makes me puke, and through the years, I've learnt where the puking threshold lies.

The table isn't fond of wagyu at all, or any steak that has a lot of marbling. Not quite into the fat content that way. The half ordered USDA prime cuts done exactly the way each wanted, ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the texture and smells. I couldn't do a full piece of steak, even at 8oz, but I did nosh on two slices of different cuts and done-ness. Gorgeous.

That's a delicately charred medium rare 35-day aged 14oz New York strip.