November 8, 2006 -- KING Kobe is back! That is, real "Kobe" beef from Japan, not the mediocre, U.S.- raised mongrel breed that's monopolized menus and siphoned bank accounts for too long. (Why quotation marks? Because Japanese "Kobe" isn't usually from Kobe.)
I was puzzled when Michael Vernon, chef of fine Asian-French-inspired Geisha on East 61st Street, told me the real Japanese enchilada had arrived. Even though I knew that "Kobe" or "Wagyu" beef in New York was likely from cattle raised in Texas and Colorado, I thought at least some of it was the Japanese specimen prized for a super-high fat content and foie gras-like richness.
In fact, there hasn't been an ounce of Japanese Wagyu beef in New York since at least 2001, when the U.S. imposed a trade embargo on fresh products from Japan and mad cow fears led to the embargo being extended.
But a few months ago, Japanese Wagyu was quietly allowed back in limited quantities. It's now popping up in all its mouth-filling, artery-busting glory at Geisha and at Laurent Tourondel's BLT Steak, BLT Prime and new BLT Burger. (Jeffrey Chodorow's heavily hyped Kobe Club on West 58th Street is still a construction site, and it isn't yet clear whether it will offer true Japanese beef.)
Unlike well-marbled American cuts in which the fat appears as thick veins in red meat before cooking, Japanese Wagyu is near-white, thanks to fat distributed more densely and evenly - so fatty it "starts to melt like a stick of butter" at room temperature, Vernon says.
To my taste, the difference between U.S. Wagyu and Japanese is even more pronounced than between ordinary American beef and American Wagyu, which I've found slimy on the tongue and without the concentrated flavor of dry-aged USDA Prime.
Japanese Wagyu is another story. With nearly 50 percent fat (compared to 25 percent for U.S. Wagyu and 12 percent for conventional steak), it's another kind of delicious - "fat that tastes like beef," my wife put it.
Some may find it leaves an aftertaste. It's too rich to consume in large quantities, although Tourondel laughed in amazement, "A guy came into Prime, ordered a 17-ounce steak and ate the whole thing."
The boneless Wagyu at Geisha and the BLTs is the highest grade that exists - A5, a legal designation in Japan given to only the finest product. It isn't from Kobe, which is "just an area designation, like Idaho potatoes," Vernon explained.
"What matters is that the beef is true Wagyu made from pure Japanese stock" - unlike the U.S. impostor, which crossbreeds bulls descended from Japanese Wagyu with American Angus heifers.
Geisha serves it thin-sliced and barely pink after light searing; each unctuous slice with a sprinkle of fine sea salt tasted better than the one before, but I gave up after a half-dozen.
Tourondel cooks it very rare in a solid wedge; my alleged 5-ouncer at BLT Steak looked intimidatingly mammoth until I learned they'd spotted me an extra 2.5 ounces. After blissfully eating half, I craved a sweet dessert to cleanse my palate. I took the rest home, and it tasted just fine a day later.
Japanese Wagyu costs $25 an ounce at Geisha and $26 an ounce at BLT Steak and Prime. At BLT Burger, a 5-ounce Japanese Wagyu hamburger from shoulder meat costs $62, topped with Whopper-style mayo, ketchup, pickles and onions. The American "Kobe" burger costs $16.
"Please, I'll stick with American," my friend laughed when part of my near-liquid Japanese burger oozed out of the bun.
The rest went down like a Twinkie. Forget trans fats - this must be city health chief Tom Frieden's idea of hell.
