Seventy-Two Oz.

Monday was my brother-in-law’s birthday and we went out to dinner. We went to this place called something like Salyer’s Old Country Kitchen in Portland and there is no reason to go to this place unless you are going to eat a big old slab of red meat.

Their gimmick is the 72 oz. steak (that’s 4 1/2 pounds, in case you’re slow at math) and if you eat the whole thing, you get it for free. You have to sit by yourself and you get one hour and you also have to eat a salad and some french fries and a celery stick or something — there are specific regulations. In the lobby there are newspaper clippings showing some of the challengers and it made me lose my appetite. Do you know how big a 72 oz. steak is? Can you imagine digesting that thing? There is no way that can be good for you. There’s also a tally board with how many people have tried and how many succeeded. I can’t remember the exact numbers but I think it was like, 8 women out of 90 who tried and 150 men out of 600. And this is since the restaurant opened in 1946.

I had a piece of grilled halibut and some vegetables for my dinner, since as you may or may not know, I am not a red meat eater and can count on one hand how many times I’ve eated red meat in the last 10 years.

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