Is a steak worth $275? It is if it melts in your mouth
There were no trumpets to herald its arrival. Nor was there a fleet of white-gloved waiters wearing epaulettes, making a dramatic unveiling from under a silver domed service plate. Just an affable college kid named A.C. who looked kinda like young Ned Stark on “Game of Thrones.”
That was just as well because, frankly, I was nervous. Excited, but nervous. Like on a first date. Except that this date used to moo. It’s not often that one gets to eat a meal whose cost is equivalent to most of a mortgage payment.
With a $275 asking price, the 18ounce, A5-graded Japanese Kobe beef strip steak at Cafe at the Frick is that. It’s believed to be the single most expensive menu item in Pittsburgh. And I got the choice assignment of trying it, on the company dime.
As the writer of the “Munch” casual dining column in the PG’s Weekend Mag section, I typically ply my trade in sandwiches and pizzas. If a joint has wings so hot they can melt a bridge cable, or maybe a hamburger the size of a hubcap, then I’m your guy. I certainly wasn’t going to turn down this assignment, not after speaking with the chef.
“It’s a pretty amazing piece of meat,” Frick executive chef Seth Bailey said.
A native of tiny St. Mary’s, W.Va., Mr. Bailey came to the Frick eight years ago from Charlotte, N.C., where he worked after attending Johnson & Wales, a prestigious culinary school.
To coincide with expanded Friday hours that began in April, the Point Breeze museum added new programming inside and food and fashion trucks in the parking lot.
“We thought, ‘Why not do something exclusive, too?’” said marketing and media coordinator Greg Langel.
During his tenure at the Frick, Mr. Bailey has developed a good relationship with supplier Strip District Meats. “When they told me they had top grade Kobe steaks, I was like, ‘Are you serious? These really exist?’”
Mr. Bailey had not worked with such a premium meat before and had to read up on proper handling and preparation.
“It’s imported from Japan, with the purple chrysanthemum stamp right on the cut. It’s one of three breeds used for this style of steak, and it’s all in the way it’s raised. They have a specific diet. They massage the animals daily and feed them beer, which gives them this insane [fat] marbling you can’t find on any other animal.”
The raw steak, which Mr. Bailey presented to me before cooking, had red meat and white fat almost in the same tightly brindled pattern that you’d see on the coat of a boxer or pit bull. I nearly genuflected, it was so gorgeous. He grills the steak to a mid-rare/medium. Anything more, he said, compromises the quality of meat.
“There’s quite a bit of fat to it, and it melts into the meat. It’s unlike any other I’ve used. If you put a finger on it at room temperature, the fat will melt,” Mr. Bailey said.
“Whenever it comes in, we set it out to attain room temperature. That way muscle fibers can be relaxed. It’s seasoned only with sea salt and fresh cracked pepper. That’s all it needs. Anything else would be like putting a bumper sticker on a Rolls Royce,” he said.
Needless to say, no A.1. sauce required.
Despite the prohibitive price tag, it’s been well-received.
“I thought we might sell six the entire summer. Instead we’re doing three to six a week,” Mr. Bailey said.
The Friday night steak special began in July and ended Aug. 12, but additional high-end offerings featuring caviar and truffles are in the works.
The Cafe is a cozy little space ensconced behind glass windows that look out to the Frick gardens and greenhouse, like a miniature Tavern on the Green.
So what did the steak taste like?
“Prepare to have your mind blown,” chef Bailey told me.
He wasn’t trading in hyperbole. I’ve never had a steak quite like it. The meat dissolved quickly on the tongue, almost like Pop Rocks, leaving behind the liquid flavor of fat and meat with very little sinew. It’s cliche to say that a tender meat melts like butter. This was more like steak ice cream — after it’s melted.
It was a true sensory experience — tactile as much as taste — and ultimately one of relief that someone else was picking up the tab.