I’m a big fan of meat and all I want is some prime quality meat. After many years of tasting meat, I have developed a certain palate. I can tell when a select piece of meat is trying to pass itself off as prime. I know how I like my meat. I like my meat tender, and young, and full of texture. I like it with marbling and full of flavor. What I don’t like is meat that’s coarse, lacks the marbling, doesn’t have flavor, but tries to dress itself up with enough seasoning to pass off as prime. Lately, I feel like I’m in a meat market and all the prime cuts are gone and all that are left are some select pieces, with barely enough marbling to satisfy me. There are not even any choice pieces left but then again, I know my meat and I’m not willing to settle for choice or select when I’m looking for prime.
So there… I said it. If you’re wondering why I haven’t picked you up and taken you home, it’s because I know you’re not the prime piece of meat I’m looking for. Or to put it more bluntly, the reason I haven’t returned your phone call, it’s because you’re not the quality I’m looking for. Maybe for a split second I though you were. Sometimes vodka confuses my palate. With enough vodka in my system, I might be fooled. But once the alcohol disappears and all my senses are back, you stand no chance.