Steakhouses, Part I

More an art form and source of dinner entertainment than the old tradition of the man/grill team, Japanese steakhouses have become an elite in the casual foodservice industry. In light of my third visit to one of these, I just wanted to elaborate on things that I have learned and experienced in each of these tastey visits.

My first visit to a Japanese steakhouse was pretty nerve-racking. I'll grant this might also be because I had already had a hectic weekend, with an all-nighter at a conference in a Holiday Inn, a heart-to-heart with Ohio's head clover at the time, and a Spring OSU football game spiced with a traffic rush to change into my tux for a prom with someone who planned on breaking up with me every other week. Needless to say that as I almost totaled my car on the way there from not seeing a pick-up truck in my blind-spot, fighting all the way there and then going through the frustration of finding a down-town parking spot, I was a bit off my game when we got into Japanese Steakhouse in Columbus.

The place was hopping and I imagine that downtown, it almost always is. With a crowded lobby and flames shooting off randomly across the restaurant, I was overwhelmed from the start. Compounding this with my limited ingestion of Asian food at the time, I conceded that the best plan would be letting my date pick the food and save me the confusion of staring at a menu which might as well have been in Japanese. Beef is good, and so it began. I think once you have steak in a steakhouse (which you should, since it obviously makes or breaks the place by title), you will never go back. The combination of spices, tender beef and soy on a ginormous hotplate is a winning combination that I have never regretted.

I stumbled through not knocking over every single bowl whenever I reached for something because there was so much stuff on our table and it was so crowded and loud that my hands struggled to focus on what they needed to grasp. I literally felt like a bull in a China shop and didn't truly enjoy anything just in an effort to eat and get it out of the way before I was bombarded with the next item I didn't realize I'd ordered.

Leaving the place stuffed and contented, I got to the parking lot to have my brakes broken, but that is another story. It would take me a few years to realize that high-stress situations can scar your enjoyment of good food. Thus, never go to a great place to eat when you're not going to enjoy. A mistake I wouldn't make twice with steakhouse food. Keep posted for Part II.