The Best Ribeye isn’t in America

Yes, I am aware that is a burger…and a lasagna. So what about it? There is no picture of the steak because the shutter speed wasn’t fast enough catch it. That ribeye was an apparition from within my belly. It never existed as far as anyone but me is concerned. It just so happens an elite steak joint can produce an elite burger as well. Be honest with yourself, you want that burger. It wasn’t even mine and I ate it anyway.

Less than a two hour drive south of the San Ysidro border, a drive that skirts the Pacific Ocean nearly the entire way, is a culinary oasis. The name of the oasis is Stella Cucina Al Forno. Pizza is the primary fare here and I ate that too, its good. But if you only have one shot, do not miss the chance to go prehistoric on the medium-rare ribeye. Its a no frills cut and cooked to perfection. Seasoning you ask? Best to stop asking questions and eat your meat. How can you have any chocolate lava cake if you don’t eat yer meat? Yeah, we’ll get to that later. The steak has a pinch of salt and thats it, but even that is entirely unnecessary. Its mouth pleasure at its apex. Succulent and tender. Draw into your memory the best steak you have ever devoured and be saddened that it was merely an imposter playing at meat.

When your meat is served, go ahead and queue up that lava cake. You’ll be finished and in a drooling euphoria by the time it arrives. Allow a fellow diner to lure you back to the present with a poke or a light cuffing. You have eaten your meat, its gone (unless you’re a maniac and double-down), now have your pudding. Tell the floor I said hello when you meet it.

Sleep it off and go back for the burger, then get the hell out of there as fast as you can lest you remain for all eternity. And remember to thank me when you return, its only polite.


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