He finally heard her chuckle.
“I know. I’m just giving you a hard time,” she said and then hung up.
◊◊◊
Lisa was waiting outside when his car pulled up. The driver got out and opened the door to allow her into the back seat.
David was busy checking messages when she got in. It seemed his daughter, Carol, was having a meltdown and wanted her dad, so he connected with his dad on video chat.
“She is fit to be tied,” his dad said when they connected.
“What’s going on?”
“The boys had enough of her bossing them around and called her a bully, which caught Coby’s attention.”
“Oh, boy.”
“Let me go get her so she can explain it to you,” Dad said.
He’d learned that there were times when you just listened. This was one of those. Carol, seeing her dad, started to cry. She knew exactly how to get his attention. She then told him all the sins of her brothers and how they were mistreating her.
The whole time, Lisa had an amused look on her face.
“Would you be willing to do a time-out if all the boys had to do one too?” David asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay, put your grandpa back on,” David said. “Did you get all that?”
“Yep. I’ll take care of it,” Rob assured him.
David was thankful that Carol had needed him because he hadn’t had to talk to Lisa the entire trip to the restaurant. They pulled up, and the driver let them out.
When they went inside, the manager was waiting.
“Mr. Dawson, welcome.”
“Thanks for having us. Are you ready for my group?”
“Yes, and we prepared a tour for you before they get here.”
“Good. I own a restaurant, and we’ve been debating whether we want an aging room or not. I’d be interested in seeing that,” David explained.
David followed the manager, with Lisa tagging along. If she’d been a ‘real’ date, he might not have ignored her. But from what he’d experienced and from the stories her stepfather shared, David had little interest in playing nice with Lisa.
The manager showed them the wine cellar and the butcher shop before taking them to the meat curing and drying room. They found whole uncut ribeye and the like, all lined up with tags attached that gave the date they were put into the room.
“If you are going to build one, make sure it is clean. I mean, get out the bleach and a toothbrush and scrub everything clean,” the manager suggested.
“That makes sense because the meat is left open to the air,” David said.
“We like to keep the room fairly humid at about 75 percent. You want to keep it moist so your meat doesn’t create an outer crust before the interior ages. But too moist, and you can get mold.”
“How cold do you keep the room?”
“Ours is set at 38 degrees.”
“What is that over there?” Lisa asked.
It looked like a chunk of meat with a yellow coating.
The manager gave them a knowing look.
“You want to try the best thing ever?”
“Of course we do,” David said.
“We call that ‘Wagyu Butter.’ Wagyu translates as ‘Japanese cow.’ This beef is considered the best in the world. The way it was described to me was that the level of muscle-to-fat dispersion in premium Wagyu puts all other notions of marbling to shame.” As the manager said this, he pulled down a hunk of meat so he could show them what he meant.
“Notice that the fat looks like a spiderweb. That’s called ‘filigree.’ It is evenly mixed with red meat; the result is that Wagyu beef looks pink. The mouthfeel when you bite into it is closer to butter than your standard steak. The flavor is very beefy. I love it that it just melts in your mouth in a velvety rather than greasy way,” he explained.
“What is Wagyu Butter?” Lisa asked.
“We make our own butter and encase a slab of Wagyu beef in it. It creates a shell around the meat. We let it cure a full two months before we break it out of the butter. Would you like to taste the results?”
“Again, yes, please,” David said eagerly.
The manager took them to the kitchen, where he asked the chef to make them a serving with soft-boiled eggs.
The chef grabbed a one-inch square piece of meat and liberally salted all of its sides. He then dropped two eggs into a pot of boiling water with vinegar in it.
“To get the perfect soft boil, we leave the eggs in for six minutes and nine seconds,” the chef shared.
He made a bowl of ice water and set it aside before putting the meat into a hot skillet. When the timer went off, he turned the meat, then pulled the eggs and dumped them in the cold bath to stop them from cooking further.
He next pulled the meat out of the skillet and set it aside to rest. The eggs were then peeled and cut in half. The chef sprinkled some black salt on the egg yolks. When he cut the meat, it was still red in the center.
“This is how you eat this. Take the chunk of meat, push it into the soft yolk, and then pick it up and eat it all in one bite,” the manager suggested.
All four of them took their bite at the same time. David closed his eyes and moaned. It tasted so good.
“Oh, my goodness, this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Lisa said.
“I agree. That is special,” David said.
One of the servers interrupted them.
“Mr. Dawson’s guests have been seated.”
◊◊◊
The server took them to their table on the second-floor patio. As advertised, they had the perfect view of downtown Houston. Tonight’s guest list included Bo Harrington, Western Michigan’s head coach; his wife, Tanya; Bud Mason; Coach Wyatt Thomas, USC’s offensive coordinator; and Coach Matt Styles, Kentucky’s head coach.
“Then David announced he had dates lined up for us,” Bo was sharing as David and Lisa joined them.
“How old was he?” Wyatt asked.
“I think I was fifteen. I wanted to go out with Lisa here,” David said to introduce his guest to the table, “but Bo was the one that it all worked out for. That was the night he met Tanya.”
“He never set me up on a date,” Bud mock complained.
“You are so set in your ways that you would never accept anyone I suggested,” David fired back.
Bud shrugged as if to say he was probably right.
David opened the menu and had sticker-shock. He hadn’t intended to bring them somewhere this pricy.
“Wyatt said he was buying tonight, so get whatever you want,” David announced.
“I’m not sure I could afford to buy appetizers. You must think coaches make more than we do,” Wyatt said.
David winked at him.
“Tonight’s on me. Get whatever you want.”
“Thank goodness he’s rich because I ordered a scotch, and I don’t think Social Security will cover it this month,” Bud said.
“You don’t have to do that,” Matt said.
“I insist. I owe each of you so much more. Matt, you were the first to believe in me and made me an offer to go to Kentucky. Bo taught me how to be a quarterback, and Bud fixed what Bo didn’t have time to correct. And since I’ve come to USC, Wyatt has … well … not messed me up yet,” David said, being half-serious and half-joking around.
Lisa nudged his arm and pointed at the Wagyu Butter on the menu. A four-ounce serving was nearly $250.
“If you want it, get it,” David said quietly.
“Before you got here, David had them take us on a tour. They have an item called Wagyu Butter …” Lisa said and then proceeded to tell everyone how extraordinary it was.
“I’ve eaten a lot of very nice things in my travels, and that might have been the best bite I’ve ever tasted. When people talk about something melting in your mouth, that was what they wished they were talking about,” David added.
When the server came back to take their orders, everyone hesitated, so David ordered various appetizers they all could share.
“I’m getting the 22-ounce Wagyu ribeye. Lisa is looking at the Wagyu Butter. I was serious when I said get whatever you want,” David said to show them that with just two dishes, he was in for nearly $400. “If you didn’t know, I recently started to receive my pay for the three movies I have out in theaters.”