What! You really thought I would fulfill that? When have I ever done anything the way I originally set out to? Plus, I have a rather nice excuse.
John had 3 birthday requests. One, a beautiful cut of Kobe beef. Two, I can’t say because my parents read this, and three: “please, no ramen.”
What is Kobe? Well allow me to copy and paste some shit from wikipedia!
Kobe beef (神戸ビーフ Kōbe bīfu?) refers to cuts of beef from the black Tajima-ushi strain of Wagyu cattle, raised according to strict tradition in Hyogo Prefecture, Japan. The meat is generally considered to be a delicacy, renowned for its flavor, tenderness, and fatty, well-marbled texture. Kobe beef can be prepared as steak, sukiyaki, shabu shabu, sashimi, teppanyaki, and more.
Kobe beef is also called Kobe niku (神戸肉?, “Kobe meat”), Kobe-gyu (神戸牛?) or Kobe-ushi (神戸牛?, “Kobe cow”) in Japanese.
In the USA, beef is often mislabeled as “Kobe” due to the lack of legal restrictions on the use of the term.
Basically, it’s melt-in-your-mouth cow flesh.
Let’s talk beef.
After some confusion as to why on earth we wouldn’t want teppanyaki (I love teppanyaki, John hates it because of the pace and food intervals, we’re going to get a divorce), our concierge directed us to a 10-seater steakhouse called “Gorio” in Ginza.
The menu is just 2 options for steak, along with some salads and side items — steamed veggies, baked potato, crab salad and a cheeeeeesy, creamy scallop gratin. We went with the 400-gram sirloin — a glorrrrious cut of beef seasoned with just salt and pepper, cooked on a skewer over a white charcoal grill.
I didn’t get a photo of the full steak, but I snuck a photo of the cow it came from. I mean, they hung. a picture. of the cow. it came from. That’s pretty awesome. And weird. But mostly awesome.
Her flesh, is in my hands.
Gorio was wonderful. The service (like EVERYWHERE we have been in Japan) is just outstanding…so attentive. Every single restaurant we have been to, the chef, walks you outside, hat on and all, to send you off to your taxi. The atmosphere, well there was none. It was the perfect place for a date. The steak was — and this is coming from someone who lovvvvves rare steak — this cow was moo’ing. Moo’ing at medium rare, and I would never dare ask for medium. No no no, not on Kobe. Not ever, but especially not on Kobe. We would have loved for it to be cooked just a litttttle bit more (literally 30 seconds more) but oh, how she melted.
I just realized I use a lot of commas. Does this bother any of you? I’m bothered by it. Now I can’t get over it.
Anyhow, what else what else. I feel weak. Jetlag hurts. Didn’t eat ramen. Now I’m all thrown off…
Oh! The pastry chefs at our hotel, keep leaving little sweet treasures for John’s birthday.
No big deal. Just a baby grand made of chocolate with white chocolate keys and caramel notes, filled with more chocolates.
A chocolate treble clef with chocolate mic and chocolate pudding cake whaaaat??
And whatever this is. What’s up with Asians and this chewy, sweet, fondanty, ice-creamless mochi tasting fruit shaped stuff? I don’t think I’ve ever been to my mom’s house and not seen a prepackaged basket of this.
I don’t like sweets. Can you tell? I don’t trust them. I think they must have hurt me in a past life or something.
Aaaaaah. So that’s all for now, friends. Back to ramen today! Leaving tomorrow afternoon. So why 4 days of ramen and not 5? Turns out I forgot that this hotel has the most AMAZINGWONDERFULDELICIOUS Cantonese dim sum brunch one could ever imagine. We will be doing that before our flight to Vegas tomorrow. Vegas. Vegas for the New Year. Ay yi yi.
This post was boring. I feel like I’ve let you down. I’m a bit lethargic right now. Probably because I’ve been up since 4am drinking red wine and now it’s lunch time…
Have a happy Saturday!!
xx
