How steak is a metaphor for life

One of the joys of getting older is discovering what you truly enjoy and honing in on it. I’ll probably write several blog posts on this topic, but this represents one of the earliest iterations.

Steak.

I’d always been a chicken and pork guy. And hamburgers. And fish.

But not steak.

Steak was always too tough or not flavorful enough or even not filling, despite all the satisfying protein.

For me. I get that you probably love it. That’s OK.

But for me, it was always the last option on the menu.

Now it’s the first — if the restaurant is good enough.

And it was so simple.

I discovered that I love filet mignon and, honestly, could live without the rest. A perfectly cooked filet at medium rare or medium eats like cake. It melts in your mouth, flavorful, without any friction. The fight is over; go into my belly.

The best steak I’ve had in Oklahoma City has been at The Ranch Steakhouse. When my wife and I do date nights, it’s usually to indulge at a local restaurant, always seeking to try new places together. Not necessarily new, but they’re places we’ve never been.

Together.

And that’s always the appeal, for me.

But it was after I had the filet mignon at The Ranch that I declared to my wife: “I don’t think I need to bother with any cut of steak, ever again in the history of ever.”

And so it was done.

Last night, we went to Rococo’s in Northpark Mall. There was a little jazz trio called BRD playing. I only recognized two tunes: “Moonlight In Vermont” and “I Thought About You.” But again, I went for the filet mignon. It was also very good. Oklahoma is like that with steak.

It’s not that I’m not adventurous. Au contraire.

It’s that after five decades on the planet, I knew precisely what I liked and didn’t want to waste my time with anything else. I find that a lot of growing older is like that. We hone in on our interests, moving from generalists to specialists.

Some of us do so much sooner than others.

And, yes, in this case, steak is absolutely a metaphor for life.

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