Red Meater Eater's Club

    To quote my roommate, bunnies eat vegetables, and I eat bunnies. This carnivorous frame of mind overtook us last night as we set out in search of the perfect steak. At first it was only a rumor, a myth, like Big Foot or the Loch Ness monster. We had heard of cadets finding a location that served a 30 oz. steak. Finally, one of the survivors confided in me like Yoda to his young Jedi pupil. Go to Loughran's you must, he said. There find huge steak you will.
    Scott and I made our preparations, mostly consisting of eating as little as possible at lunch. Then, at the appointed hour, we hit the road with visions of prime rib dancing in our heads. After following the directions given to me, we turned into the parking lot at Loughran's, the Hudson Valley's self-proclaimed happiest Irish pub.
    The waitress waved us over to a table on the far wall. If you go to Loughran's, you will find they are very big on recycling. We didn't get menus, for example. The server propped a large dry-erase board on a chair in front of us which listed the entrees of the day. You have to decide quickly because the next table in line is waiting for the menu. Luckily, we already knew what we wanted. Unfortunately, I didn't see it listed on the board. Nowhere did it say "Huge, gigantic steak."
    Once again, waitress to the rescue. "Excuse me, ma'am," I started. "We're cadets and some guys were telling us. . ."
    "You want the prime rib, right?" She finished my thought for me. We nodded agreement. Salads and rolls came first. We could sense they were trying to distract us. Finally, the meat arrived.
    For those who like steak, and I do, this was like entering Valhalla. Two inches thick and larger than the plate, it sat there screaming to be eaten. Who was I to refuse? Scott and I grinned at each other goofily like two guys who realize they've got too much of a good thing. Then we plowed in.
    I am proud to say that I made short work of that piece of meat. We rolled back to our barracks full and content. The next day, word had gotten around. People asked me about it. Is it true you tackled the prime rib and finished the whole thing? I nodded smugly. I don't believe you, one guy stated firmly. I just shrugged my shoulders. Scott and I are scheduled to be inducted into the Red Meat Eater's Club, a group of steak devotees who have found in Loughran's prime rib their mascot.
    If you have the appetite, and if you can find it, then maybe you too can take on the largest steak the world has ever known.
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