I Want You Inside Me- Keens Mutton Chop

You hungry?

If you answered, "Yes", then read on.

However, if your answer was "Yeah, I'm hungry… Hungry for some updates on what muscular 15-year-old boys are doing on TikTok!", then this one is not for you, Champ.

(I used to use the nickname "Chief" instead of "Champ" in snide phrases like that, but Barstool Chicago's Chief is such a good human being, I adapted… Barstool Eddie, however, is still an asshole.)

As I alluded to in the introduction blog I put out last Friday, these I Want You Inside Me blogs are going to be written exclusively "for the common eater by the common eater."… There will be no video component… No corresponding podcasts or even clips of me sitting in the podcast room with a mic in my face and no fucking clue what to do with my hands.

From a merchandise perspective, perhaps there is a line of personalized antacids in my future, but not much else to push on you (unless I get a paying sponsor, which RARELY happens for blogs).

Dave had asked me to write more in order to improve both the quality of the blog AND my standing in this company (apparently, I am hanging on by a thread), so that is exactly what I am going to fucking do… Starting now.

I grew up in Brooklyn, and, even though my New York accent is all but gone, there is one mispronounced phrase from my childhood that I still use quite a bit…

"Jeet?"

So when I heard through a friend last Friday that the double-ended political dildo of DeBlasio and Cuomo were about to close down all indoor dining in New York City the following day, I turned to my good buddy Willie Colon, and asked him, "Jeet yet?"

To which he replied, "Nah, dawg… I could eat… What you thinking?"

I told him I wanted to get in a mutton chop before the city went on lockdown, and I got a table at Keens for noon.

He simply said back to me, "Bet."

Willie then asked me if it was okay if he brought his boy with him, to which I replied, "Bet."

So I went into a pod room just before 11 AM to record a quick segment for Twisted History with plans to meet Willie and his friend in front of the building at noon, and then the 3 of us would grab an Uber that he (Willie) ordered up.

For the small handful of readers who are intimate with both Barstool and Keens, you know that the walk from our office to the restaurant is only 6 or 7 short blocks, BUT we ALL know how former NFL linemen are notoriously lazy, so the Uber ride was brought in without any argument from me.

I fucking crushed the segment for Twisted History (which you can listen to here) and then went downstairs to meet my lunch dates.

As soon as I stepped outside, I came to the realization that either I do not fully understand what "Bet" means or Willie just flat-out lied to me because waiting in a black Escalade was not only Super Bowl champion Willie Colon, but TWO more of his "friends" including 2 time Super Bowl champ, James Harrison, and a notoriously promiscuous (and alarmingly petite) stand-up comedian named Kerryn Feehan.

I think most of you are familiar with James Harrison, but for those who aren't, he's a 5-time Pro-Bowl outside linebacker who played in the NFL for 15 seasons, and who STILL looks like an action figure… Even at the ripe old age of 42.

Conversely, I think most people are unfamiliar with Kerryn, so I will recycle this joke and say, "She's like the girl next door… If you live next to a whorehouse."

Kerryn is a tremendously talented and fearless young comedian who has been on our radio show multiple times.  She is always down to bust balls and have hers busted.  She is a pleasure to work with and a very funny comedian to see live.

So off we go in the Cadilac… Me, Kerryn, Willie, and James.

On the drive over, Harrison proceeds to tell us about all the cool stuff he owns (without anyone asking), and while he was taking a breath, I leaned over to Willie and said, "Now this is just a little lunch… I want to have some mutton and then get the fuck out of there."

To which he responded (again), "Bet."

Within seconds of him saying that we pulled up in front of the place.

And here's where I tell you about the actual restaurant…

I remember it as being Keens Chophouse because I am old, but what is now known as Keens Steakhouse was founded in 1885 by Albert Keen, a theater producer. 

The restaurant spawned from the Lambs Club, a theater group dating back to the 1870s. The restaurant became the go-to spot for a quality mutton chop, and its famous Pipe Room soon became a hangout for writers and publishers in addition to theater-folk for smoking, drinking, and dining on old sheep meat.

In the late 1800s, for $5 a year, Lambs Club members could keep their pipes at the restaurant.  Back then, when you came to Keens to dine, there was a pipe steward who kept track of your pipe, and pipe boys who would fetch it to your table for a post-meal smoke. 

Today, the term pipe boy means something altogether different… I am trying to raise my daughter to not be a "pole girl" and my sons to not be "pipe boys".

Over 90,000 clay pipes were, and are now, stored on the ceiling… It's the largest collection of pipes in the world, and according to tradition, when a member passed away, the stem of the pipe would be cracked and then re-mounted onto the ceiling.

Keens was a popular haunt for famous people like JP Morgan, Teddy Roosevelt, Will Rogers, Adlai Stevenson, Albert Einstein, and Babe Ruth, and the pipes from those most famous patrons are displayed in cases in the front of the house for people who yearn to see something that was once in Albert Einstein's mouth.

That reminds me of a joke:

 What's the smartest thing to ever come out of Marilyn Monroe's mouth?

Albert Einstein's dick!

In 1935, the restaurant sold its one-millionth mutton chop, its signature dish, and the only thing I order there.

Mutton comes from a sheep… Meat from a sheep between the ages of one month and one year is served as lamb, while sheep older than one year is served as mutton.  Mutton is usually harvested at about three years old. The meat has a deep red color and is much fattier than lamb.

There is actually a third distinction for aged sheep meat- A sheep in its second year is called a "hogget", but that term is rarely used outside New Zealand, South Africa, and Australia so I will pretend like it does not exist… Okay, mate?

In England, mutton is also a derogatory term for an older woman… Think opposite of 'cougar'.

At some unknown point in the late '40s, Keens switched from 3-year-old mutton to an age closer to lamb (Perhaps hogget?), but what they serve now still has a slightly gamier taste than what you're used to, and the cut is still a weird-looking winged shape chop that mimics the older mutton chops of yore.

Each mutton chop is made up of a sheep's loins, tenderloins, and belly flap… So it almost resembles a tiny porterhouse with wings or even a crab… And it's a perfect substitution for the traditional steakhouse fare.

That is not to say I don't enjoy the traditional steakhouse experience.  I am actually writing this blog on the 35th anniversary of the murder of lowlife mobster Paul Castellano in front of Spark’s Steakhouse, and it is making me crave a trip to Midtown.

(That murder was ordered by fellow low-life mobster John Gotti.)

But if you are in NYC, if you're willing to try new things, and if you're looking for a steakhouse meal without the steak, I think this mutton chop at Keens is your answer.

One last thing about the history of Keens… For the first 20 years after it was opened, women were not allowed to dine at Keens.  Obviously, that no longer flies BUT I have it on good authority that the neanderthals who run the joint STILL only recognize 2 genders of sheep.

Baby steps, I suppose.

Back to the meal…

Just to remind you- ON THE CAR RIDE OVER, Willie assured me that we were going to lunch with the intention of going light.  Having a quick mutton chop and then heading out.  I believed him because Willie has recently dropped some weight, Kerryn is built like a 12-year-old cheerleader, and James Harrison's body is a fleshy temple.  

So it stood to reason that this would be the first time I would break bread with Willie without it turning into a food orgy.

As soon as we sat down, I put in an order for the shishito peppers… Just so the 4 of us would have something reasonable to nosh on while we looked at the menus.  And right behind me, Willie orders 2 martinis (for him and me), 2 dozen oysters (for just Willie), a crabmeat cocktail, a bowl of lobster bisque, and 8 pieces of slab bacon for the table.

Fuck… Here we go.

I was going to balk at the martini, but here's a little tidbit- Keens Steakhouse has some of the best blue cheese stuffed olives I have ever found floating around in a cold glass of booze.

When the waiter asked me if I wanted another drink I made the adult decision and downgraded my alcohol to their house pilsner BUT I also ordered a rocks glass filled with those stuffed olives on the side.

Then it came time to order our lunch entrees.

Kerryn had the smallest filet she could find thinking it would be easiest to throw up later (bulimia joke) and James also ordered a steak because he said… And I quote… "I don't fuck with no old-ass sheep."

Well, James… Willie and I do fuck with some old-ass sheep, so we both ordered the mutton chop.

As far as temperature goes for the chop, I find steakhouse-medium resembles at-home-medium-rare, so I ordered mine "barely medium", which is a scumbag move… When you order your meat with made up instructions like "barely medium" or "medium plus", you may think you are giving the staff more guidance into what you want, but neither the waiter nor the kitchen pays attention to your "mediums" or "plusses"… I should take my own advice here, but I am an asshole when it comes to ordering meat, I suppose.

Either way, the waiter had asked if I wanted the kitchen to slice it and I said, "Yes."  Anything that shortens the time I can get the food from the plate to my mouth is always a plus for me.  Some people prefer to not have their meat sliced because they think the restaurant can replace your steak with a cheaper cut if it comes out sliced away from its natural shape… If you have those concerns then, by all means, have your steak served in-tact, but might I also recommend going to a better class of restaurant?… At least one that doesn't wait patiently for the opportunity to perform the old "switcheroo"?

So the "barely medium" pre-sliced mutton chop from Keens (that at one time resembled a crab made of sheep meat) came to my table looking exactly like this…

(I don't take good pictures.)

A side of escarole sautéed in butter, lemon and garlic accompanies each order.  The bitterness and acidity of the greens are designed to cut the richness of the meat.  However, to borrow a phrase from one of my dear friends, "I don't fuck with no old-ass escarole." AND I don't need my richness cut any more than it already has been by my wife and kids.

Here's the thing… The mutton is very very good.

The steaks, and the sides, and the appetizers, and the drinks were all relatively unremarkable compared to other steakhouses in NYC, but the mutton is worth the price of admission.

It has a tiny bit of gameness that reminds you that you're not eating beef, pork, or lamb, and it cuts like butter.  They drown the dish with a flavorful au jus that brings everything together and you could slurp it out of the plate like a bloated hairless cat at the end of the meal.

It's a manly meal that you can have with a couple of buddies before you hit MSG for any event, and you can be swigging scotch, beer, wine, or a cocktail while you're eating it.

I added the "cocktail" part because Harrison unapologetically swigged 4 apple martinis during dinner… He asked the waiter to serve it in a "man's glass" in order to save some face, but I think people who watched him drink didn't assume he was drinking pints of absinthe.

I asked James, "Why the apple martinis?"  And he quickly answered, "The bitterness and acidity of the green drinks are designed to cut the richness of the meat."… But I know he just copied that from the escarole description on the menu.

After the 2 former Steelers threw back a slice of key lime pie and carrot cake like they were aspirins, the bill finally came for our "light lunch".  

And that light lunch left  Willie and me just under $1,000 lighter than when we came in (Apparently Harrison's arms are very big, but also very short… Know what I'm saying?)… 

Man, I hope James Harrison doesn't read Barstool Sports.

But there are no regrets on my part about having such a pricey meal because it gave me something to write about and (more importantly) something to wholeheartedly recommend to you readers the next time you're in town… Especially if you're with a couple of units.

(Now here's hoping Barstool has no regrets either when I hand in the receipt.)

I've gushed enough about mutton, but while I have you here, I want to also suggest a limited-time-only offering from a regional store that I love.

And if you're diabetic, please avert your eyes because you could lose a foot just thinking about this stuff…

Stew Leonards only has a handful of locations scattered throughout NY, NJ, and mainly CT, but even if you are traveling from other states this holiday season, I highly recommend you stop in and try their Christmas Cookie Milk.

Served ice cold out of a glass bottle, it tastes like milk that was just used to dunk sugar cookies in, and it's WONDERFUL.  

That is all… Merry Christmas.

IWYIM.

-Large