Musings on chewing beefsteak

I always think of beefsteak as patty. Likely because the names are very similar in Swedish (“biff” vs “färsbiff”). The difference is like night and day. At least when it comes to chewiness.

At this one place, they had beefsteak so chewy they should have been required to have a weapons license to sell it. One of my colleagues almost got killed by it. A bit got stuck in her throat. Fortunately, she could still breathe, but I don’t think she’ll order another beefsteak at that place again. I for sure won’t.

At a nearby elder care center, one of the patients did die from beefsteak. Although he suffered from Alzheimer’s and had forgotten you’re supposed to chew it. Not that I can imagine myself being able to chew a beefsteak when I’m old enough to get into elder care.

Not the way the politicians in this part of Sweden handle the health care system, where teeth and chewing apparently is a luxury you can go without. I guess beefsteak would be another such “luxury” one would have to send packing.

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