Let's start this epic tale of TLO's holiday dinner by saying that Mickey Mantle’s Steakhouse, 7 S. Mickey Mantle Dr. in Bricktown, is the very definition of fine dining—from the service to the dishes to the old-money elegance of the place.
After 51 weeks of minimum wage and maximum dining, every year Patrick takes my wife and me to an iconic local steakhouse—you know, the kind of restaurants that I never get the opportunity to try, natch—and, on his ever-loving dime, allows us to go hog wild.
And, celebrating this year at Mickey Mantle’s, I had my mind and stomach set on some Japanese-imported Wagyu beef…because when am I ever going to have the chance to try that again?
On a reasonably cold December evening, we arrived in Bricktown at around 6:30 p.m. First of all, to show my lady a real night on the town, we paid to valet park at the restaurant, something I haven’t had to do since my last doctor’s appointment at OU Medicine.
But, as my car disappeared into the no man’s land of valeted parking, we met Patrick and his guest in the decked-out lobby.
With the disabled swagger that I frequently rock, I entered the low-lit room. Looking more like a well-to-do library with many leather-bound books, we were sat by the maître d' and, of course, had the required amounts of greetings and salutations….but I needed that Wagyu, man!
Sure, I had peeked at the online menu earlier that week and, ever since, I wanted—needed—that Wagyu... but I had to play it cool and munch on the complimentary sourdough bread, just in case the massaged-meat was verboten and I had to get a regular steak.
My party, all adults over the age of 21, ordered alcoholic drinks. While being under the influence of a good time, I played the long game as we ordered appetizers and full dinners, all the while sipping my posh iced tea and having another bite of that warm bread.
When it came time for the appetizers, I confidently ordered Lobster Cargot for the table. Patrick, thinking that that might be too little for the party of four, also ordered the Fresh Oysters—Blue Point being the selection this fine evening.
And, of course, Patrick was right, as the party promptly crowded the tray. The oysters, on the half-shell, were completely gobbled up with homemade horseradish, a bit of cocktail sauce, and a little spritz of lemon to do them justice. The briny bivalves were so delicious I nearly neglected the Lobster Cargot!
But as our last crusts of the remaining sourdough were being used to elegantly sop up the cheesy, garlicky, buttery lobster bits of the faux escargot, the waitstaff brought us the preamble to our main platters, the select salads—choice of a wedge salad or a Caesar salad.
Without a doubt, I selected a wedge salad, touted by the waiter to be the best in the city. And, even though it was the same wedge I had eaten many times before at many low-cost eateries, at Mickey Mantle’s it seemed…classier.
With a house-made bleu cheese dressing and some large bacon bits, even though it was very good, we each individually decided to take a few bites and push it away to make sure our tummies had space for when our mains arrived.
In the cinematically precious low light, the meats were manically glorious. Sure, these steaks truly looked impeccable, but each plate was a somewhat rearranged portion of the same order, like a Taco Bell menu on speed.
Here’s what everyone got:
Patrick and his friend chose Surf and Turf, going with an American Wagu Mishimi ribeye and dinosaur-sized King Crab legs. The crab legs, one of which eventually made it's way to my plate, were window-paned for convenience, and the meatiest cut of crab I've ever devoured.
Meanwhile, my wife took a different approach to land and sea with the Steak and Cake, featuring a 5 oz. filet and a crab-cake.
The filet was soft and tender and elicious, just as they should be, while the crab cake brought sweet brine and a delicate crunch, tasting like the ocean showed up polished and well-behaved.
Then there were the family-style sides, lots of them, like potatoes au gratin, grilled asparagus, and, per my wife’s request, creamed spinach, rounding out our order.
True to name, all dishes were more than fantastic and, to be sure, all would make for a fine final meal, but, now it was my time—my goddamned time!—for that immortal cut of long-awaited Wagyu beef…
It was part of the Double Play combo that includes a 3 oz. A5+ Japanese Wagyu Filet, a 3 oz. Center-Cut Filet Mignon, Two Grilled Jumbo Shrimp, and, last but not least, Chef’s Featured Potatoes, which on this night were gloriously mashed.
As my party was already living the high life, I was down in the lazy fibers of the meticulous massaged meat, starting with the prime filet mignon, already softened by the cooking wizards of Mantle’s.
At first, I thought the mignon was the Wagyu, as it was incredibly fork-tender, with no need for my usual Great Value Steak Sauce. To my eternal surprise, this filet was the best cut of meat in my life, uncapping all the meat magicians of the wild west…until it was time for the Wagyu.
Like nothing I ever had before, the dark wizards of the far East cast a spell on my taste buds as the Wagyu was butter-soft with no added procurements. Like a civilized madman, I cut small pieces and methodically dropped them into my mouth like a form of beef-styled candy, letting me know that this was going to be the best I ever got.
Now this…this…was the best steak of all time. Period.
After a few minutes in this new world of tastes, my meat was all gone. Sadly, it made my eyes tear up because not only was it all gone, but I also didn’t know when I could get another cut of Wagyu. Black market, you think?
Either way, I downed my jumbo shrimp and shoveled in the rest of my potatoes, knowing that I will always be chasing the dragon of this cardinally-charged meat-based high point of my life.
As the year-end TLO company dinner was winding down, Patrick ordered two desserts, the crème brûlée and the old-fashioned cheesecake. Holding back my tears, I had one, two, three bites of both ordered sweet and, once again, my boss made all my culinary wishes come true.
As we all said our goodbyes, above us in the black sky was a Tex-Mex bandido with the scent of Japanese meat on his breath, ringing out “Cómpralo ya to all, and to all, cómpralo ya!”
-
Follow Louis Fowler on Instagram at @louisfowler78.
