Beef

I'm just gonna cut to the chase here: the beef is flippin' good. Anyone who knows me and my affinity toward chicken above all other meats will understand why this is such a monumentous announcement, and admit it -- some of you may feel the need to print these words of mine and frame them as a tribute to my entrance into adulthood.

It all started at La Brigada, a parilla restaurant in San Telmo that we had heard was good and so visited one Saturday night. It was packed, which is completely understandable now that we've eaten there...twice.

While I went for some slab of chicken and Liz did some sort of beef, Eriks went directly for the T-bone, and asked for it rare.



As you can see, it was beyond rare. Aside from one dish of "steak and eggs" that the boyfriend had a few months ago, this was the rarest piece of meat I'd ever seen served to a human for consumption. I couldn't believe it. It was disgusting. It was so....red! It was sooooo gooooooood.

Yes, I ate a bite of that meat. I ate more than one bite. And when I went back to my chicken, I tasted nothing. It was the most startling realization I've had in a long time.



I guess now I'm ruined for life. I suppose this means when I eat with my parents upon returning home, the conversation will no longer go like this...

Me: Mom, what's for dinner?
Mom: Steak
Me: And what am I having?
Mom: Leftover pasta/pork roast/chicken/something else we ate two days ago that is not steak

So I may not be all about downing intestines and other midsection innards, but my tastebuds are moving along reasonably enough, allowing me to opt for something other than the grilled cheese wherever we go.... bad for the budget (though not here! Beef is CHEAP!), good for the being a grown-up stuff.