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90 Points

Monday, February 16, 2015 - My three-day Presidents Day weekend was pretty much spent eating a steak so obscenely large it would make Larry Flynt blush. The son-of-a-bitch weighed over 5 pounds and cost $100, but went down easier than Lindsay Lohan for cocaine money

It was a dry-aged tomahawk ribeye and the meat I trimmed off the handle got ground up and yielded six of the tastiest hamburgers I ever had (actually, two of them are still in my refrigerator). And the steak was thrown onto a cast iron griddle, went in the oven until medium rare, and finished back on the griddle with garlic, butter and fresh thyme. If I had a time machine, I'd like to take that steak with me and dance with it on Soul Train to Michael Jackson's "Don't Stop Til You Get Enough." What happens after that is between a consenting adult and his Tomahawk Ribeye.

Don't judge me! I'm a tax payer and a licensed driver!

I'd like to say I chose the wine because I thought its bright Washington State fruit would carry the beets and turnips I roasted with the steak (which it marvelously did), but really, I just grabbed the first Cabernet I wasn't saving for a special occasion. As it turns out, it's dang tasty. Fruit forward and savory at the same time. Cherries, firm tannins and fresh herbs on the finish that carry the thyme-butter all the way through. It was my last bottle, so I can't share any with you when you invite me over for dinner, but could I interest you in a Syrah so tasty it'll make you excuse yourself to the back yard to contemplate the direction of your life?

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