Frank Bruni's review of Peter Luger's yesterday was absolutely spot on, and what made it so smart was how deftly he placed Luger's in the context of its many clones. Also, he couldn't say what I can, namely that Luger's...
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Have you ever had a really, really good steak? If you’re like most people my age, the answer is probably no, and here’s why: they cost a boatload. Unless you’ve got a rich uncle or gourmand grandparent (or, to be fair, are better at saving money than me), you may or may not ever get to sample the sumptuously spectacular Peter Luger porterhouse.
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The Hungry Cabbie Eats The Outer Boroughs: Peter Luger's Bacon
If there is one thing about which Jews and Muslims agree, it’s that pigs are filthy animals. Both religions dictate that their adherents shall not eat nothin’ that ain’t got sense enough to disregard its own feces. But, as Vincent Vega pointed out so succinctly, bacon tastes goooood.
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Most New Yorkers will think of Peter Luger when porterhouse is the topic of conversation. How could we not when it’s been around since, oh, 1887. Even our cab driver knew where Peter Luger was. You mean the boo-jee steak place? when we only mentioned Luger by the Williamsburg Bridge.
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Forgive me, meat gods, for I have sinned. I can no longer claim that I don't eat beef. Not after what I just did at Peter Luger's, THE MEAT PALACE of New York! This place is so manly and testosterone fueled that you have to have a sausage to work there and the customers all leave with 5 o'clock shadow. Even the women! I had to shave when I got home!
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Peter Lugar's... Part II - The Meal
Mar 21, 2006
The Meal Getting to the dining room was just about what I expected. A crusty, old German styled room that has the ghosts of a thousand heart-attacks past. The history in the place is so thick you can cut it with a knife… and the thought of those who had come before you to enjoy this meal is good for at least 20 minutes of conversation.
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It Really Is All That - Peter Lugars
Mar 20, 2006
Let me preface this post by saying the following... if you live in New York, you are not a New Yorker unless you've been to Peter Lugar's.
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The great steakhouse chef has the touch of a masseur. In preparing a soup, sauce, pasta, or panna cotta a cook can - and should - taste and taste, modulating ingredients until they are just so. Even many main courses can be prepared as to permit tasting. However, the steakman lacks this luxury. He must have an internal clock for each of hundreds of steaks broiling. To assure the clock is not in error, he pushes and prods his meat until it feels just so. When I spent a month observing in a fine local steakhouse, I was impressed what these young men could calibrate doneness by the heuristic of the hand: rare steak had the give of the webbing by the thumb and forefinger, and so forth. (This was in Minnesota, where I was told rare means medium rare on the east coast).
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A friend of mine, Allen decided to take the Amtrak into Manhattan today from Pennsylvania and we managed to hook up and hit a few bars. Allen, you may remember, is the fellow who invited me to attend a Yankees game with him and his buddies earlier in the year. Always a good time when he shows up. By the way, if his girlfriend is reading this he didn’t have anything to drink (now I will burn in Hell for lying).
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I have a confession to make. I have never eaten at Peter Luger’s. I know, crazy but true. There were numerous times I had made plans to go, but for one reason or another, it never happened. Last week Kathy and Julie took a stand and decided it was time for me to check it out, and we made a date to go and try their famous burger, only served at lunch. I had heard about this burger from legions of respected food-loving friends. It had obtained mythical burger status in my mind. I was warned to take wads of cash (no plastic is accepted), and to wear Lycra or something expandable. And so last Friday, dressed in my loosest jeans and packing a wallet full of cash, I boarded the J train to Marcy Avenue. I found a seat and listened to the MTA announcer remind us to watch out for our belongings, not to expose electronic devices like iPods or cell phones. This I found odd. Are they actually thinking people are worried about getting mugged on subways anymore? Oh those were the good old days. I wish that were my worst fear. Here, take my iPod, take my cell phone. Take everything. Please. Just don’t blow me up. (If it seems as though I am trying to laugh at this, I am. It’s the only way I can deal with the horrific reality of this prospect.) As I sat there, sadly contemplating the devolution of our society and the state of our world, the train came out of the tunnel, and sunshine spilled in through the subway car’s dusty windows. We rattled up the tracks, chugging up and over the Williamsburg Bridge, and there, laid out in front of me, was our city—unapologetically alive. Is there any other place to live?
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NYers can definitely exaggerate the greatness of various establishments within their city limits, but the praise for Peter Luger is well-deserved. After my first visit, i saw the hint of brilliance in their steak but left unconvinced. Would my second visit live up to the hype? Could it really be the best steak in the country? How would it compare to the super secret beef place?
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Smothered in Food and Love--Another Family Weekend Eating Spree with Meals at Peter Luger, Blue Ribbon and Il Mulino PLUS special celebrity guests!
I have very exciting news!" said my mom on the phone last week. "You're not going to believe this! Are you sitting down?" I sat down. "Not only did I get us a reservation at Peter Luger Friday night, but I got us into Il Mulino on Saturday."
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Ever since Tuesday's visit to Shake Shack, visions of delicious burgers have been dancing in my mind. All of a sudden I'm jazzed to seek out delicious burgers across our fine city. So today, I buckled up and headed out to Williamsburg to try the burger at Peter Luger, which is served during lunch only.
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