You Call This Steak?

Other than the marks on the side where the jockey was hitting hit I can't really qualify the dish that was put on my table yesterday at brunch, steak.

The thought was nice of course and we were there to celebrate the impending welcome into the world of a new little bee. And yes the people there were very nice and I did get to have several adult conversations that have been devoid in my life recently but that still doesn't excuse the quality of the slab of meat that shared space on my plate with the egg whites, grapefruit slices, and diced potatoes.

Chef Geoff's has become over the years as close as this town has come to a hallowed institution. They used to be known for takes on simple American classics. Now they will be known for dropping a piece of NY strip that looks to be a reject from both TGI Friday's, a high school cafeteria, and possibly the snack bar at the Baghdad International Airport. The eggs weren't much better but that's not the point.

How does food like this make the grade?  There was supposed to be farmers, slaughterhouse supervisors, food inspectors, purchasing agents, chefs, food expediters, and waiters who all were supposed to stand in the way of that cow of making it's way to my plate. Where were they and why weren't they doing their jobs.

And if it could happen here, in the United States, in our Nation's Capitol, just blocks from the White House and the McDonald's near the White House, then what about in other countries? Canada could start serving bad meat, or even Britain. Heck it could possibly spread to India...well maybe not that far.

In summary, the steak was rubbery, undercooked, and possibly microwaved. It lacked taste, color and many other meat like tendencies. It deserved no place in a restaurant, hospital, or morgue and it certainly deserves no space on my plate.