Montana Legend – Dude Looks Like a Lady

montana legend steaks
Though I often write of myself stomping around the kitchen in frilly little aprons and four-inch stiletto heels like a ridiculously fem-motional domestic diva, that is only me on the outside. I’m pretty sure that on the inside, I am ay-numero-uno A1 steaksauce, superhero USDA prime grade beefy, macho nachodude.

Don’t worry. I am not tending toward the transexual, transgenderal, transunionpacific thing. But that sure would make for some interesting dinner dates.

I am a guy on the inside, and we’re not talking about my possibly being a gay man trapped inside a hetero girl’s body.

We are talking about beef.

I never go out to meet new people, let alone food bloggers. It scares me to death. It’s not that I’m unfriendly or snobbish in any way (though I am sure if ever you meet me, it will come off that way). It’s that I am painfully shy. I am ridiculously self-conscious. I am horribly introverted and can hardly attach two words together to form a complete sentence, let alone string sentences into a conversation. Even when there is the bribery of food, I tend to shy away.

montana legend steaks
beef brings out delicious
montana legend steaks
she’s a rare breed

Unless it’s beef. Montana Legend Steaks was having a tasting, and I went because it’s beef. I love a bloody steak like the giggling Hello Kitty of an original Japanese Iron Chef judge-ette loves a thimble-sized strawberry mousse with pink sugar pulled into flowers. The way the promise of steak can motivate me to shower, roll my hair in velcro, slip into skinny jeans and put on heels makes me think I’m, uh, guy.

Right…but it’s not just beef.

It’s rare beef. I love steak exceedingly rare, to the point it’s notwarm in the middle, to the point it’s 2” thick carpaccio, to the point it’s straight out of the meat locker. The hosts prepared different cuts to different degrees, so it’s difficult to say whether I preferred the NY Strip to the ribeye, or dry-aged to regular aged. I just liked the ones that were the least medium. I haven’t met many girls who eat steak rare. Then again, I haven’t met many guys who eat steak rare, either. Okay, so this was a bad example.

montana legend steaks - piece
fat isn’t feminine
montana legend steak - tasting, wine
hosted bar

For some reason, girls love to marinate. Why? Maybe marinating is like nurturing. I don’t like “marinade” on my steaks. I do like to nurture, but come sit here by me and I’ll read you a bedtime story while I eat my naked steak. Though the Montana Legend steaks we tried were tender (they get points for being tender, even when cooked beyond “rare”), I was slightly disappointed that they had been flavored with herbs, and not just any herbs, but a stupid herb like Rosemary, which is just plain fem (it may also be that I am not particularly fond of a very strong Rosemary flavor). Salt. No pepper. And for God’s sake, no sauce. If I want sauce, I’ll eat pasta, and Worcestershire? Baby, that’s for Bloody Marys.

montana legend steaks tasting - beet salad
she (doesn’t) got the beets
montana legend steak tasting - potato salad
he says “potato,” she says “po-tah-to”

The entire tasting was a lovely event, set up like a casual, comfortable barbecue in the backyard of someone’s house. I met a couple of food bloggers who shall remain anonymous until they out themselves at their own will, the host, the guys who represent Montana Legend, and a few others. The host had provided some other foods to go with the steaks, which again, made me think I might not be a girl. I barely touched the salads, though the bite of the potato salad I did have was pretty good. You know Koreans and potato salad.

I’m not sure why I am, today, so sensitive about gender-izing foods. It might have to do with this idea of men’s and women’s roles, about which I hate, but quite hypocritically love, talking. That right there just goes to show that I am extremely, schizophrenically, an oxymoron of a girl.

Or guy.

Therapy starts now, and I am my own psychotherapist.

My current bi-polar obsession with gender can be broken down into chronological component parts that address ethnicity, nationality, culture, and Delicious family traditions
that have nothing to do with anything but my Dad calling himself “The Captain.”

Let’s start with my being an Asian girl, as opposed to an African-American girl, or a Caucasian girl, or a Latina girl. Yes! I put them in alphabetical order so you wouldn’t think I give preferential treatment based on ethnicity!

Now, despite what a “long way, baby” Asian cultures have come, it is still a far cry from being gender-blind. And even if we aren’t talking about today, if we go back thirty some odd years to when I was *ahem* conceived, not only was it always preferable to have sons, but if you were so cursed as to have daughters tainting your immediate brood, you would at least want your first-born child to be a son.

My grandfather was the first-born son to the Delicious family – win! My father was a first-born son to him – win! I am a first-born…blogger – aka “loser,” but that actually has nothing to do with birth order now does it? Needless to say, my grandmother was quite disappointed, so much so that she refused to accept a granddaughter and only sent baby boy’s clothes to my parents before I was born. In all of my baby pictures, I am wearing blue. The few precious moments I have gotten to spend with my grandmother, she has never failed to remind me that I was supposed to be a boy, as if I had something to do with such a disgraceful failure. Oh, the weight of failure for things that are completely out of my control!

See why the confusion started early?

Now let’s talk about being any girl living in America, as opposed to some third world country where women are beaten. Did I just say something about Asia being close, but not quite there, as far as being gender blind? It’s the same in the US! Okay, so perhaps most Americans treat men and women equally, but I know, I just know, that somewhere there are at least one or two people who think women are lesser on all accounts than men. Just one or two, though, like somewhere in Phelan. Let’s be real. Overall, I will never have the same Marketing Director earning power as a guy even if we both have equivalent education, experience and natural skills. I’m not saying that it’s right, just a fact. Then again, it might have nothing to do with gender and everything to do with how much better dressed I am. You know, I’m used to people thinking I’m too pretty to be so damned brilliant.

Take those two together and you have an Asian girl in the US, which is about the most confusing thing in the world after the Jolie-Pitt family reunion. It’s in my head to hate myself because I should have been a boy. But! I am in the US where we don’t farm anymore so boys aren’t better than girls. But! I am Asian and my immigrant parents, no matter how progressive they are, still fall victim to remnants of their mother culture like getting me “married off.” But! I grew up in what felt like the purest white neighborhood in America (now that my family has moved away from there), so I might be a girl, but most certainly not Asian. But! Now I am in LA and being an Asian female makes me exotic erotic. But! Asian females are geishas who are quiet, demure, and obedient. But!

I am not a goddamned geisha.

And I like pink, I like wearing pretty, girly clothes, and goddamit if I like slaving in the kitchen for seven-and-half hours to put on the table a fabulous dinner for eight, by eight with Madonna’s Hung Up playing in the background!

Good grief, I am a gay man.

Or maybe I’m just fooling my hetero girl gay guy self because we all know that you will never find me anywhere but in front of my laptop, unshowered, un made up, unkempt, barefoot, wearing shredded sweatpants and a yellowing Hanes Beefy-T that I never gave back to my ex- ex- ex- boyfriend. I might not have even washed it since then either! I’m a blogger and that makes me…unisex.

It’s all so very clearly unclear now, isn’t it? Being seen as “Ms. Delicious” irritates me to no end (unless of course, you’re nasty) so, my whole logical, intelligent life, I have fought very hard to be treated as just “Delicious.” Even still, there are conflicting messages in my subconscious that tell me to use womanly wiles, then to “be a man about it,” then to hell with girls and guys, I just want to win.

Despite all of my fighting of gender biasing, I still let myself think that there are “guy” foods and “girl” foods. The whole point is that I’m not a guy on the inside, but that there is nothing wrong with my acting in such a manner that other people might perceive as masculine. Yes!

Now shut up and bring me a steak-flavored cupcake.

Montana Legend Steaks

** a year ago today, the 10 signs of having lunch with preggy-in-pink were glaring **
** two years ago today, i played in a meme. and lost. **

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  • condiment

    Rosemary femme? No, no, no. Rosemary butch. Chervil femme.

  • Anonymous

    On a food blog, you spend more than half of this post writing about your childhood and how it contributes to your mental issues? In fact, your whole “food” blog is like that. You DO need to go see a therapist, and stop wasting the space here.

  • Anonymous

    Mmmmmmm……rare steak! I’m a girl, love steak and especially rare! I know NO other women that will eat their meat less than medium. I’m glad to know there is someone else that appreciates steak the way I do!

  • Lightcnd

    Is that a ribeye? Seriously. Also, ignore the “Anonymous @ 8:43PM” he/she does not understand that there are some people in the world who are one with their food…all shaped by childhood experiences…

  • Mike

    Great post!

    As a new food blogger, I just wanted to drop by and say hey. Keep a look out for me as I grow.

    Meanwhile, continue the great posts!


  • Velva

    Oh! Sign me up for the rare steak team! Although I like mine a bit more cooked than you like yours, I still prefer it far rarer than my husband does.

    I kind of get what you are talking about, with both the food gender biases and the cultural expectations for women here in America.

  • Velva

    Oh, and, ignore the person who is telling you what you can and cannot say IN YOUR OWN BLOG!

  • j.gabriel

    Personally, I thought this post was brilliant. And schizo. I think I woke up my roommate from laughing too loudly.

    I remember your other post about that guy who decided to make his first impression on you by eating–and not finishing–a salad at Houston’s. I say go ahead and be a man, Sarah; be man enough for two. Your analysis somehow accentuates your femininity, however. Bravo. Btw, it’s your fault that I’m about to try foie gras for the first time next weekend. It’s also your fault that I learned what foie gras is.

  • Lightcnd

    Oh yeah, the Houston date blog entry is one of my favorites, I tell people about that one when trying to explain the delicious life…:-)

  • joanh

    hahahah. I don’t know about steak flavored cupcakes, but they have a pig’s feet ice cream here! it’s at this tiny ice cream shop where they have the most bizarre flavors- curry, pig’s feet, whiskey but also the normal fruit and whatnot too.

    i think we can be tomboys and girly-girls- be able to choose whichever one when we want to. i want to earn the same if not more as the guys and be a stay at home mom if i want to.

    i guess it’s hard to have your steak flavored cupcake and eat it too

  • joanh

    hahahah. I don’t know about steak flavored cupcakes, but they have a pig’s feet ice cream here! it’s at this tiny ice cream shop where they have the most bizarre flavors- curry, pig’s feet, whiskey but also the normal fruit and whatnot too.

    i think we can be tomboys and girly-girls- be able to choose whichever one when we want to. i want to earn the same if not more as the guys and be a stay at home mom if i want to.

    i guess it’s hard to have your steak flavored cupcake and eat it too

  • sarah

    condiment: chervil is not fem! chervil actually sounds masculine. now frisee…that is fem.

    anonymous #1: i can’t afford therapy.

    anonymous #2: actually, i think every once in a while, my sisters will eat their steaks rare, too.

    lighcnd: thanks for the backup ;) and yeah, every once in a while, even *i* go back and re-read that houston’s post to make myself laugh.

    michael: hi! welcome!

    velva: another rare girl…awesome! and nah, i don’t ignore anyone who reads my blog, even the haters :)

    joanh: it’s hard, but definitely do-able!

  • hermz

    hi Ms. Delicious! (cuz I’m nasty)

  • Anonymous

    That’s it. You’re a blabbering idiot. I’ll never visit your web again.
    Richard Popel, Prague

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