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When it comes to steaks, we like ours so rare a good vet might be able to save it. Arizona just so happens to be a hell of a place to get a cut of meat. Don’t believe us? Check out Food Critic Michele Laudig’s post on The Stockyards in this week’s New Times.
Food Critic Michele Laudig on The Stockyards:
For a place that calls itself “Arizona’s Original Steakhouse,” I wouldn’t expect a lot of surprises — nor were there many. Of course there’s prime rib and Porterhouse and all kinds of beefy temptation. I sank my teeth into the filet mignon and it was well prepared, its salt-and-pepper-coated crust giving way to a succulent pink middle. But the things that intrigued me most were those unexpected dishes that jazzed up the routine. Why would I bother with oysters Rockefeller (much as I love them) when I could nibble on wild boar and venison sausages with apple-cranberry chutney? The sausages were so juicy that they burst when I slid my steak knife through their crispy casings
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