I take a vitamin every day; it's called a steak.
The only time to eat diet food is while you're waiting for the steak to cook.
I think steak is the ultimate comfort food, and if you're going out for one, that isn't the time to scrimp on calories or quality.
I hate reality but it's still the best place to get a good steak.
Reality may not be the best of all possible worlds, but it's still the only place where you can get a decent steak.
My favorite animal is steak.
If you want to sell a steak, you can't just have the sizzle, you gotta have sauce.
The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways.
Steak and sex, my favorite pair. I get them both very rare.
A steak needs fat to taste great.
A mighty porterhouse steak an inch and a half thick, hot and sputtering from the griddle; dusted with fragrant pepper; enriched with little melting bits of butter of the most impeachable freshness and genuineness; the precious juices of the meat trickling out and joining the gravy, archipelagoed with mushrooms; a township or two of tender, yellowish fat gracing an out-lying district of this ample county of beefsteak; the long white bone which divides the sirloin from the tenderloin still in its place.
Happiness is having a rare steak, a bottle of whiskey, and a dog to eat the rare steak.
Never lick a steak knife.
I can get a great look at a t-bone steak by shoving my head up a bull's ass but I'd rather take the butchers word for it.
We all mourn in our own way. I mourn with a great steak.
I don't eat red meat, but sometimes a man needs a steak.
I usually eat a pretty big steak the night before I compete.
God is a lonely place without steak.
Steak is delicious and cows are stupid.
Steak on the plate went up. Steak on the hoof went down.
I always thought filet mignon was the steak to beat, but the fat content in a rib eye is fantastic.
I don't have much patience for people who are self-conscious about the act of eating, and it irritates me when someone denies themselves the pleasure of a bloody hunk of steak or a pungent French cheese because of some outdated nonsense about what's appropriate or attractive.
Throw em a bone and they want a steak.
Did you ever see the customers in health - food stores? They are pale, skinny people who look half - dead. In a steak house, you see robust, ruddy people. They're dying, of course, but they look terrific.
To eat steak rare . . . represents both a nature and a morality.
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