Fuego Diablo’s Theory of Relativity

What constitutes a good steak? To some extent, it’s relative. Someone who has spent years enjoying fine steaks, sampling and savoring different flavors, is going to have a different answer than someone who hardly ever eats beef. The important thing isn’t so much defining what is and isn’t “good” or “great” steak, really, but instead being deliberate as you explore; as you progress; as you mature in your taste and your preferences.

Taste is Relative

Take steak off the table for a moment and consider a different kind of food—say, cheese. When you were a kid, you probably ate cheese that came wrapped in plastic. You may even have eaten cheese that came out of a spray tube. And at the time, it was probably pretty delicious.

Fast forward to today and you likely wouldn’t touch the spray-can cheese, knowing as you do that it’s basically poison and that there are better options out there. And if you’re a real wine-and-cheese gourmand, you might even prefer high-end, international cheeses that the layman has never even heard of, much less savored for himself.

It’s all relative, but relative is not the same thing as meaningless or made-up. Your taste is relative to your experience and your knowledge—to what you’ve tried in the past. In a sense, it’s all relative to the best thing you’ve ever eaten—meaning the bar is set quite low if all you’ve eaten is cheese from a tube, but very high if you’re sampled some of the world’s best imports.

Making Progress

In culinary matters, we all start somewhere specific, and if it’s something we care about and are passionate about then we’ll make progress in our taste, our knowledge, and our sophistication.

Say you have two bottles of wine—one that cost $8, and another that cost $50. Someone who has never had a glass of wine before may not be able to tell the difference in a blind taste test; there’s just no frame of reference, and taste is relative to experience. Someone who loves wine, and knows wine, will most assuredly be able to tell the difference, however, because that difference is very real. It just hinges on knowledge; it’s not something you’ll pick up on if your experience is limited and your palette undeveloped.

Diablo Will Ruin Other Steaks for You

This all brings us back to steak, and to the Diablo in particular—a steak so high-end that you can’t get anything like it in grocery stores or butcher shops, and only a handful of restaurants, in cities like New York and Toronto, can even compete.

And yes, it may seem a little bit pricey to you, at least as first—but if you think of the Diablo as expensive, or question whether it’s worth it, then you just haven’t had one. Those who have enjoyed a Diablo will recognize it as the standard. They’ll know that it’s a far cry from other steak; just as eating great cheese will ruin the plastic-wrapped stuff for you, and just as wine enthusiasts can tell the $8 from the really great stuff, Fuego Diablo sets the frame of reference for what steak can and should be.

Try one. You’ll understand why you had to pay more for it. Taste is relative to experience, and experiencing a Diablo will radically transform the way you enjoy steak.