I went to the Brooklyn Beefsteak at the Bell House this past Sunday. Unlimited Pat LaFrieda steak bites on a little crostini toasted slice of baguette bread, unlimited McSoreley’s, pickles, peanuts, and entertainment $50+. Actually, when I bought my ticket, I was thinking this was totally something else. But it was a lot of fun. Even going by myself.
I came late and joined in on one of the communal tables. Luckily, it was one that was serious about their bread stacking. You see… Most people don’t eat the bread. Need to make room in their stomach for meat. And they use the leftover bread to stack. I snuck in a few bites of bread with my meat and it was actually pretty good that way …especially with horseradish sauce made with Sir Kensington mayonnaise.
Anyway, back to the bread stacking. The gang next to me were plenty resourceful. First, they got the rest of our table to join forces and give them their bread. It started to look like a nice tower. I thought it was going to be a snowman, because there was an arm on it attached by a coat hanger wire. It turned out to be there to balance the weight though. Some duck tape help kept it together. Then they tore it down figuring they should start over, much to the dismay of the guy that was further down the table.
Then in came some green wire poles that someone got from a garden nearby and the use of a full pickle jar for support. They had to stand on the benches to assemble it. That’s how tall it was. And then came in some shoelaces to hold it down like a Christmas tree.
Our only competition was the gang of jocks nearby, who stood along the front of the stage like they were Hell’s Angels security. I was worried they were going to kick our ass us if we won, but I think that was just drunk thinking. They had a nice tall stack without any apparent extra accessories …but surely not taller than our table’s.
Then Beefsteak Betty (the Master of Ceremonies that looks like a burlesque/Suicide Girl with a huge bosom) came over to measure our bread stack. I think I was taking a picture of her and then she stuck out her cheek. So I kissed her, thinking that’s what she meant. I think she was actually just posing for the camera.
We didn’t win. Although I’m pretty sure we were the tallest. They probably knocked off points for the shoelaces and stolen garden equipment.
As everyone was finishing up, our server asked if we needed anything else. I thought she was flirting with me, but I slowly realized she was waiting for a tip. I think the singer in the Rockabilly band mentioned to tip at the end, but everyone was drunk and already walking out. They should make the tipping part clearer, like when you buy your tickets. Then I won’t mistake the servers with flirting with me.
