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God bless the recession.

Ok, so maybe that is not the politically correct thing to say, especially when I have friends that are out of work. But thanks to the Democrats, they will be collecting unemployment benefits until 2819, so I have peace of mind knowing that they are going to be fine. And if it turns out that they aren't going to be fine, then I will be accepting applications for the 2010 Patriots season. Hey, neither life nor football (aren't they one in the same?) stops just because you are broke.

Because I am a glass half-full type of person, I'm always looking to turn a frown upside down. So while the rest of the world bitches and moans about inconsequential things, such as not having any money, I'm taking note of all the great things about the world's economic clusterf&ck:

• Unbelievable deals on cars. Forget cash for clunkers. You want a car? Wait until November, when the dealers are struggling again and have to get rid of the 2009 inventory. In fact, only if you were at a NAMBLA convention the day after Jack-o died would you have seen as many sad faces as you'll see at a dealership come November.
  

• Unbelievable deals on houses. Let's face it, if you don't currently own but are looking to, the market will never get any better. And I know of what I speak, having incurred a loss of more than $30K when I sold my condo. And to the woman who bought my old place: I just want you to know that I jury-rigged the sink in the 2nd bathroom to temporarily stop leaking just long enough so that it would pass inspection. Take that.
  

• Unbelievable deals on Prime steak. In fact, this bullet it so important, I am going to devote the rest of the blog entry to it.

If you know me just a little bit, then you know I am a steak snob. Several times per year, I will visit an incredibly expensive restaurant for the right to drop obscene amounts of money on steak. And why do I do this? Mostly because I have numerous and deep psychological issues. But beyond that, because these restaurants serve the very best quality of steak there is. It is called "Prime" and it is at the top of the USDA's grading scale.

This scale has 8 different grades - which are based on the amount of marbling (speckles of fat) throughout the cut and the age of the animal when it was sent to heaven. But for the purposes of this entry (and to keep you from falling asleep), we'll consider only the top 3.

USDA Prime - the best of the best. Only 2% of all beef in the country is Prime, which is the ultimate in tenderness, juiciness, and flavor. These cuts are quite pricey - usually $40 and above - and found at places such as Ruths' Chris, Smith & Wollensky, The Palm and my personal favorite: Del Friscos.

USDA Choice - Choice beef has less marbling than Prime, but it is still high quality. This is the most popular grade of beef because it contains sufficient marbling for taste and tenderness, while costing less than Prime. Just over half of the beef graded each year earns a grade of Choice. If you order a steak at most decent restaurants (i.e., not Applebees), you're likely getting a Choice cut. Generally, these steaks are $35 and below. However, there are a growing number of "nice" restaurants that are selling Choice cuts at Prime prices. Easy enough to tell, though. Look at the menu - the restaurant will almost always boast that their steaks are USDA Prime on the menu. If you don't see it, you're getting Choice. If this is the case, be sure to complain to the waiter and then kick him in the nuts. Just because.

USDA Select - This is generally a lower-priced grade of beef with less marbling than Choice. Select has the least amount of marbling, making it leaner than, but often not as tender, juicy and flavorful as the other two top grades. About a third of beef graded falls into this category. Until recently, most of the beef carried at the supermarket was Select grade. And if you order a steak at places such as Friendly's, TGIFriday's or your local coffee shop, you'll almost certainly get Select. You're better off eating a Big Mac.

So what is my point? Well, I don't have one. Except for this. Apparently, all of the doom and gloom about the economy has had quite a negative impact on the top-end restaurants that serve Prime steak. These types of places depend on businesspeople with large expense accounts and schmucks like me who indulge for a special occasion. Today, expense accounts are just enough to pay for Pizza Hut and anyone with even an iota of common sense isn't dropping $200 on dinner, so the Smith & Wollenskys of the world are really struggling.

And because these restaurants are struggling, they aren't buying nearly as many steaks as they used to. So where is all of this excess inventory going?

Costco. For $9.99 per pound.

I haven't been this excited since I was told that Santa Claus doesn't exist. Before the recession, the only place to find Prime steaks was at the aforementioned restaurants or online through the wholesaler (which included a very high markup). That's it. There simply wasn't enough to be sold through traditional retail channels.

But today? I can go over to Costco (a very convenient 3 minute drive from my office) and pick up 4 Prime ribeyes for less money than what I would spend on one steak at Ruths Chris. Crazy. And freaking awesome.

In the interest of full disclosure, you won't get the exact same taste at home with a Costco Prime steak as you would at a high-end restaurant. That is because the restaurant will let the steak age for a few weeks, season it with a few secret ingredients and cook it at a much higher temperature than you can at home. Still, the Costco Prime steak is more tender, more juicy and more flavorful than anything you can buy anywhere else. And did I mention that it's only $9.99 per pound?

So while most of the world is caught up in their "woe is me" attitude, I prefer to look on the bright side. Hopefully, the nation's economic recovery will be slow, affording me the opportunity to tailgate with Prime steaks at every Pats game this fall.

And although my birthday isn't for another 7 months, feel free to head to Costco and send me an early gift. This deal isn't going to be around forever, you know...

This and That...

A few things on my mind:

1) I couldn't help but notice that my last blog post, which was comprised of one word, generated 4 comments (not counting the one I left). I also couldn't help but notice that 97% of my other blog posts, which are slightly longer than one word, do not generate anywhere close to 4 comments. Go figure.


2) Restaurant hypocrisy is a growing problem in our country. OK, so maybe it's not as serious as the financial meltdown, the mom with 14 children or the demise of my NCAA brackets, but it's still a problem.

This (as in, click on the word 'this') is what I had for dinner last night. It is the cowboy ribeye from Ruths' Chris steakhouse and yes, it tastes every bit as good as it looks (that yellow stuff under the steak? Sizzling butter. Mmmmm.). It is also enormous - 22 ounces of the best beef you'll ever have. The cost? $47. And that is only for the steak. Sides are extra. Are you shocked? Outraged? Appalled? Probably.

This (as in, click on the word 'this') is the east coast halibut at No. 9 Park, one of Boston's most trendy restaurants. It is not enormous - I'm guessing 6 ounces. The cost? $39. However, to be fair, it does appear that at least one forkful of salad greens is included. Shocked? Outraged? Appalled?

Probably not, because for some reason, overpriced steakhouses get a bad rap, while overpriced "seen and be seen" restaurants are perfectly OK, even though the amount of food is unlikely to satisfy the appetite of a pet rock. I was at the bar at No. 9 Park last night, for a cocktail following the steak dinner. A few seats down, a couple were sharing a fried oyster appetizer. Total number of oysters? 4. Total cost $19.

It might just be me, but if you are going to splurge on dinner, wouldn't you rather have way too much than not nearly enough?

The defense rests, but only because I am still full from that massively good ribeye. Otherwise, I'd probably go on for at least 2 more hours.


3) Facebook status complaining is a growing problem in our country. OK, so maybe it's not as serious as restaurant hypocrisy, but it's still a problem.

We all have our universe of Facebook friends, and within each universe are at least a handful of people who see their status update as a vehicle to bitch and moan continuously about everything that is going wrong that day, that week, that life. While I assume the idea is to elicit sympathy, I wonder if these people stop to think about how others perceive the nonstop whining. I perceive it as equivalent to the whining of a 3 year old. Not only do these people sound pathetic, it is downright annoying.

My solution? Each person is allowed 2 whines per week on Facebook. Violation means loss of access to Facebook for the remainder of the week. Or electrocution by keyboard.

If these people want to complain incessantly, get a blog.


4) Me being almost 40 is a growing problem in our country. OK, so maybe it's not as serious as nonstop Facebook complaining, but it's still a problem.

And I guess to be fair, I am technically 35, although I am now closer to 40 than I am to 30. You know the saying "age is just a number?" I agree...age is just a number. It's the number of years a person has been alive...and 35 is a bit on the high side for me.

With that said, life is pretty good at 35. Sure, I have no hair. And sure, I get up at least once per night to pee. And sure, I can't stay awake past 8:30 anymore. But I still have my health, a ridiculously high number of close friends, a great wife, an awesome dog, a sweet set of wheels, a job that I don't mind going to every day...and a pretty cool lifestyle.

And to all of you who help make that happen (I am looking at you, JC), thanks.

The last week...

No, the great blog experiment has not ended. I've had an exceptionally busy week where I simply haven't had a chance to keep my immensely unknown site updated. Tell you more, you ask? Well, who am I to deprive you?

Friday, March 29: MANLY BEEF NIGHT. Get your mind out of the gutter (except you Stacey, you wouldn't be the same). Every year on our birthdays, my friend Steve and I have a delicious and perilously expensive tradition of taking the other out to a top-tier steakhouse in the city for a 5,000 calorie meal. Last week did not disappoint: we dined at Ruth's Chris, where all of the food is bathed in a sea of butter right before it's brought to the table. Take that Lipitor! The bill was obscene - $65 less than dinner for 7 at a restaurant one night later - but the food and drink were top-shelf.

Saturday, March 30: It took longer than one might think, but between doing laundry (while my wife was getting loaded on Manishewitz in Jerusalem), packing, a few hours of work and shaving, my day was shot. Dinner with 6 friends at the Longhorn steakhouse was most enjoyable and educational. We as friends don't hang out much anymore, so I cherish the occasions on which we do...and I've learned firsthand that the food at Longhorn stinks.

Sunday, March 31: Flew to San Francisco (on time!), had lunch with my oldest friend Charles (sorry Tony - we grew up on the same street, but Charles lived closer, so I am certain I met him first), and traveled down to the Stewarts in Sunnyvale.

Monday, April 1: I lived the life of a Bay Area commuter. I took the train back and forth to Schwartz' San Francisco office, put in a reasonably full day and dined with the Stewarts at PF Changs in celebration of two birthdays - mine and Calvin's.

Tuesday, April 2: Worked a full day and had the pleasure of seeing the Sox squeak out a 2-1 victory against the A's. The McAfee Coliseum is largely unremarkable and one of several cookie-cutter stadiums that were built a few decades ago. On it's own, it was a fine place to watch a game, but it was lacking in character (but not lacking in garlic fries).

Wednesday, April 3: Sox 5, Oakland 0. Took the day off from work.

Thursday, April 4: A full day in the office and taking the redeye back to Boston.

Some thoughts:

• I very much enjoy the San Francisco office. It's 20 floors up in the middle of downtown. However, getting into the office 3 hours after my colleagues in Waltham results in a jam-packed workday where it takes 2 hours to catch up and 6 remaining hours to squeeze in 8 hours of work. No complaints...I love it out here.
• The people of San Francisco actually obey walk signals. All week long, while the masses are waiting for the signal to turn, I'm running through the crosswalk. I wonder if they secretly hope I get plunked, just to teach me a lesson.
• Travel during this week has been eerily perfect. Which means my flight home will either crash, be piloted by Ted Striker (hint: Airplane!) or mistakenly land in Rutland, Vermont.
• Congrats to my 2nd oldest friend Tony for being hired as the newest mechanic for Comair. With the exception of your brother Rob, you dislike most of your family, so I am always around to accept the Comair friends and family travel pass.
• Outdoor hot tubs are most enjoyable, especially in the chilly air and with a glass of wine in hand.
• I miss my wife.
• Jenn too.