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Further down the slopes, horses and cattle were grazing the summer pastures. It was an unusually tall black-and-white castrated male – a steer – standing in a corral, where it was getting fat on hay, sweet sagebrush and grass.
Here, dedicated carnivore Mark Schatzker explains why he decided to travel the world in search of the primest cut Of all the meats, only one merits its own class of structure.When I was done eating it, I raised the plate to my mouth, tipped it up, and gulped the juice in one long, excellent sip. My father started grilling it when I was around nine, as I recall, which is to say that's when he started sharing steak with his youngest son, because he had been buying and cooking it regularly ever since the trip to Mac Donald's Restaurant.I was ready to order another one, but I had a plane to catch. By the age of 11, I knew the difference between a New York Strip and a T-bone (the bone).Nearly half a century after eating it, my father is still moved by memories of the experience.He calls it “the fulfilment of my gustatory dreams”.