Baby Meat (Brise Verte)

To celebrate our wedding night, we went out to dinner absolutely exhausted. Dinner was…memorable.

We kept it close to home and went to dinner at Brise Verte, on the 33rd floor of the Prince Park Tower.

The view from our table was unbelievable. All around us the lights of Tokyo dotted the landscape like something out of Blade Runner.

Being used to rather tiny portions of food in Japan, we were starving and felt safe in ordering a five-course meal under the assumption we could pound it all down.

Our waiter was a flamboyant, tiny white-gloved Japanese guy. Everything this guy handled had a particular flourish to it– he had the fluidity of a magician and would make food and utensils appear out of nowhere. It was surreal. I nicknamed him Mr. Hands after the internet sensation who died riding a horse far too literally.

I don’t even know what some of the stuff was that they served us. There was delicious bread, followed by a plate of various fish chunks. Not sushi in any sense that we’d ever seen, just little cubes of fish. One of them was urchin. I don’t think we ate any of it. Honestly everything that we were given looked like it came from the kitchen of Hannibal Lecter himself.

We were starting to fall asleep in our chairs. Not through any failure of service, just that it had been an exhausting day of running all over Tokyo for photoshoots and paperwork, and now dinner.

One of the courses they brought us was a cheese tray. Some of it was good, some not, and one particular piece smelled like the men’s urinal trough at Turner Field. We kept ourselves awake by daring each other to take a whiff. It worked better than Epsom salt.

The main course.

I had ordered steak of some sort (the only thing I could identify on the menu) and she ordered something equally decadent.

While I normally like my dinner served in a pool of its own blood, what I received was the tiniest portion of meat I’d ever seen. It was maybe four or five strips of rare beef soaking in a tide of crimson; the total mass equating to maybe a single slice of Steak-Umm. No matter. I started eating it anyway.

I wasn’t entirely convinced this meat was from a cow. Perhaps “veal” translates to “small human child” in Japanese. So tender. So juicy. I think I heard it cry a little with every bite.

It was what I imagine human flesh would taste like– too rich to eat a lot of, but delicious nonetheless…the closest to actual baby meat I will (probably?) come in this lifetime.


Pro-family and anti-drug, when he's not too busy living with four beautiful ladies, he likes long walks on the beach and poking dead things with sticks.

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