If you are puzzled, exasperated or suspicious about the ubiquity of the ultra-rare Japanese beef called Kobe that now seems to appear on every steakhouse and high-end restaurant menu in America, you’re not alone. For more than a decade I’ve been watching the import of true Kobe beef by the U.S. meat industry and restaurateurs to find it had leapt from a minuscule amount to what seems like quite an easy thing to order every day of the year, if willing to pay a high price. I’ve also seen how the names and definitions of this kind of beef has changed to fit categories not recognized by the USDA, which has long graded American beef, with USDA Prime the highest grade (though much compromised over the years). 
         Let’s get down to basics: The word “wagyu” in Japan means nothing more than “beef,” while the word “Kobe” designates beef that comes from a small number of “prefectures” in and around that city in Hyogo Prefecture (left; below) that breed cattle famous for their amazing amount of intramuscular fat marbling. Wagyu beef comes from the breeds Akaushi (Red and Brown), Kuroushi (Black), Japanese Polled, and Japanese Short Horned. Tajima-gyu, the only breed that can be certified “Kobe,” is a strain of The Black Kuroushi.
        In 1976, the U.S. began importing beef from Japan—ironically, at the time few Japanese even ate beef and that was imported from other countries—but in 2010, the U.S. placed a ban on Wagyu because of a foot-and-mouth disease outbreak in Japan. In 2007 Kobe Beef was registered as a Regional Corrective Trademark by the Kobe Marketing and Distribution Promotion Association, which awards official certificates to designated wholesale, retail and restaurants that can serve genuine Kobe.
        In August 2012, the U.S. began allowing small amounts of Kobe beef to be imported. Yet, since then, what would seem to be a tsunami of “wagyu” and “Kobe” beef has been arriving on our shores causing a “Kobe beef mania.” Because USDA labeling laws are very vague (non-existent when dealing with Japanese beef), many restaurants slap the “Kobe beef” or “Kobe-styled beef” label on their meat and get away with it. The animals they are selling might have been just a ¼ Wagyu and ¾ Angus and raised in Texas, but the general public doesn’t know the difference. A vast majority of the wagyu cattle that you see in the states have been crossbred with native cattle breeds to better adapt the foreign breed to their new environments. Or they are imported from Australia. Some American breeders say they have imported the Black Kuoushi cattle, but as of 2018 Japan exported no more than 600 pounds of Kobe beef. 
        To get to the truth about the nomenclature and supply, I interviewed Michael Coggins, founding partner and chief operations officer at Holy Grail Provisions, which works directly with partner ranches and farms to raise cattle with no hormones, no antibiotics, sustainable pasturing, and humane living conditions, as well as importing Ogata Farms Kobe beef from Japan.

1. How many authorized dealers of Kobe beef are in the states?  

This varies from the perspective of the customer. There are fewer than 20 restaurants at any given time that have genuine Kobe, and for years we were the only online purveyor. A small number of our competitors have had it for short periods but don't tend to stock it on a regular basis. From the restaurant side, occasionally a new location will be brought on temporarily by an importer, so the numbers do fluctuate for the genuine article. We have joined the association and have the plaque to prove it!

2. How has Holy Grail managed to get access and as much Kobe as desired for the market? The *first-ever* shipment of authentic Ogata Farm Maezawa beef (left)?  

I can't say we've gotten as much as we desire. It's a really tough thing to keep in stock at the levels we would like, but we were able to bring in the largest shipment of Kobe in US history. We've also been responsible for bringing in 2/3rds of the BMS 12 Kobe that has ever been sold in the US.  The real answer to your question comes down to one of our primary business objectives: sourcing the best steaks on planet earth. We aren't the first people to have the chance at bringing Kobe directly to consumers, but we were the first to do it because we wanted to build around the idea of having the pinnacle of beef.  Can't do that without genuine Kobe. From there, we looked at filling our portfolio with other incredible options. Cameron's track record as a sourcer of high-end wines was really the template we followed to get Ogata. We talked to the people from the town, read their stories, studied their approach, sampled their beef, and were blown away. Maezawa (sometimes spelled Maesawa) beef is famous in Japan so we knew it belonged in our portfolio. 

3. Do you work with the Kobe Beef that was registered as a Regional Corrective Trademark by the Kobe Marketing and Distribution Promotion Association? 

Yep. The golden statue you see here is the one we have in our headquarters.

4. Has the production of Kobe soared to meet demand and how is it possible to increase such a rare product?  

There is certainly a ceiling for production on a product that has such stringent requirements and is resource-heavy to produce. But I don't think Hyogo has reached that ceiling. It's obvious both culturally or from a business perspective that no one is willing to lower the standards for certified Kobe beef, but the demand is there to produce as much as possible. Not to mention, the cattle that fail to meet the Kobe standard will still make incredible wagyu. Exports over the last decade are up around 10 times, so while there is pressure to create more, it's not even remotely possible that Kobe could expand production at that rate. The 2020 Japanese export total was around 5,300 tons and there were only 5,500 or so head of Kobe cattle last year. (Side note about exporting: It is rare that an entire carcass will be exported. It's usually subprimals, and even that depends on which global location the beef is heading toward. USA gets ribeyes, strips, filets; Taiwan doesn't use those expensive cuts the same way as their dietary traditions are different.)
      Overall Japanese production isn't my area of expertise as we only deal with the portion of Kobe that is exported to the US, but that has increased over the years along with the entire Japanese Wagyu category.  I'm confident overall production has increased, but the American demand has grown exponentially.  I don't think demand will be met any time soon, if ever, but it does open the category for other amazing products in the wagyu space.  There are incredible farms and producers across Japan who have an audience in the US now that they didn't before, and that's mostly due to Kobe.  
  
5. I'm told most Kobe stays in Japan or is shipped to Hong Kong and Singapore. How much is available in the US? 

This figure goes up every year, but not by the same rate other wagyu availability increases.  I don't have a complete figure, but you can bet that genuine Kobe will remain one of the rarest, most sought-after steaks in the US for quite some time. 

6. Is all Holy Grail’s meat frozen?  

Yes; blast frozen to be precise.  After the meat is aged to perfection, it's portioned into steaks and frozen at somewhere between -20 and -30 degrees to preserve it in pristine condition.  Freezing that hard and fast is key to ensuring the product retains its quality. 

7. Is there enough Kobe to justify the claims of thousands of restaurants claiming to serve it?  

Not even close. A local burger shop in a popular bar district near my house has what they call a 'Kobe burger' for $18. It's not from Japan and perhaps has some American Wagyu in it but it is nowhere close to the real thing. We're hoping to close this education gap but before any real change is made, we need some help from the Japanese government. It's very much like Champagne; there are strict guidelines on what really qualifies as Champagne and the alcohol industry abides by that naming restriction. And like Champagne, comparing that burger I referenced with actual Kobe is akin to using the same description for André and Dom Pérignon. Yes, it's 100% possible that much A5 wagyu can be distributed to those places because of a few things; first, A5 wagyu and Kobe are not the same thing. A5 Kobe is seen as the highest and directly correlates to A5, but the letter and number are just the Japanese grading system. Any program in Japan that creates high-quality beef could be graded as A5.  The question is parallel to 'Is there enough Dom Pérignon to be in every bar that uses the word 'Champagne' on their menu?' I'd guess no, but plenty can still have Champagne.  And even more still will have sparkling something or other and call it Champagne, against some pretty stringent rules. 

         Go hungry. Go very hungry. Mark’s Off Madison (or M.O.M.), which took over A Voce, is not a place to drop in for tapas or a flatbread at the bar. You go with an appetite, the fiercer the better, and you’ll leave with enough leftovers for a plowman’s lunch. Or you could go for the weekend brunch and relax with bagels, bialys, latkes, nova platter, Belgian fries and chicken soup.
      Queens-born chef-owner Mark Strausman has never been one for arduous tasting menus with teeny portions of twee food, and at M.O.M. he clearly wants everyone to order and eat with gusto, not least a number of comfort foods from his own Jewish-American heritage in addition to Italian dishes on which he made his reputation. Strausman came to first notice in the 1990s, when he was managing partner with Pino Luongo at Sapore di Mare in East Hampton, then Coco Pazzo. In 1992 he was awarded Best American Chef by Tenimenti di Barolo e Fontanafredda in Alba. He would go on to open Campagna in Manhattan before becoming chef of Barney’s flagship store restaurant Fred’s on Madison Avenue, which ended after the beleaguered company closed. Almost immediately he signed a lease for M.O.M., which opened in 2019 during the height of the pandemic, but, through thick and thin, survived with outdoor dining and delivery and now thrives.
      In chatting with Strausman he told me his love of Italian food began when his Jewish family lived down the hall from an old Italian woman who cooked all day, every day. “I’d get off elevator and I’d just die from the smells. The sauce, the meatballs, the aromas were amazing.” Now, with M.O.M., he’s combining a long career worth of experience and innovation into perfecting what he chooses to put on a menu without any strict genre.
      The commodious room (with a lovely terrace out front) has little in its beige-and-brown décor to get excited about—the only other color is the red neon EXIT sign—with a pleasant bar up front. Tables are bare, surfaces hard, so there’s nothing to soak up the noise, added to by rock-and-roll music in the background. Tablecloths would warm things up and might bring down the decibel level.
     The straightforward three-page menu is extensive and portions enormous, so take seriously the printed sentiment “WANNA SHARE IT? We’ll split it for you, no problem!” that is at the heart of M.O.M.’s amiable approach to service by a brisk, affable waitstaff. (I sense that, as everywhere these days, the industry shortage of workers affects the number on M.O.M.’s floor; they could use a few more.)
       The menu starts off with items that include “Estelle’s Chicken Soup” ($15), which I’m dying to try next time, along with fried calamari ($23) and a gargantuan platter of plump chicken livers (left) beautifully cooked and incorporated with Port wine sauce served over sourdough crostini ($22). I could easily have made a meal of this rarely encountered comfort food. There is also a New York pretzel served with mustard, pickled vegetables and a red onion confit (a bit pricey at ten bucks) that is softer and better and yeastier than the often stale, hard facsimiles sold on New York street corners, though still shy of those inimitable examples made by the Pennsylvania Dutch.
     There are also several pizzas—nine of them—from $24 to $29 that include some intriguing toppings; I opted for one because of its name: “The Hell’s Kitchen,” made with a fine crust topped with cheese and tomato with local hot and sweet sausage, roasted peppers and onions ($26). You also get an excellent complimentary bread basket.
     Of course, Strausman’s going to serve terrific pastas, four with dry noodles, four fresh. The rigatoni alla buttera ($28) was an amalgam of hot and sweet sausage, tomato, cream, English peas and parmigiano, while the fresh tortellini Bisi (below) were a Roman rendering filled with ricotta and English peas, butter and springtime’s fresh mint ($28). Lasagna della Nonna ($27) was a hearty and hefty portion of Italian American goodness. The prices may seem high, but like the menu said, “WANNA SHARE?”
     You can get crabcakes or softshell crabs as a starter or main course, but the generous platter of crabcake, softshell crab, coleslaw, tartare sauce and a mound of Belgian fries ($44), which Strausman’s had on his menus for decades, is a much more sensible way to go. Fillets of sole so fat they might qualify as Dover sprawl on the plate in a rich lemon butter sauce with vegetables and roasted potatoes ($39). Pollo alla mattone is flattened roast chicken, very juicy and nicely seasoned and herbed, with the tingle of lemon, the heat of crushed red pepper, winter vegetables and creamy mashed potatoes ($32). The massive Cheddar cheeseburger ($27) might have been better had I been asked how I wanted it cooked (medium-rare) but I wasn’t and it came out overcooked and a little dry. You get a big cone of those great Belgian fries with it.
     Not for a minute would you think M.O.M. would shirk on big, child-like desserts ($6-$16.50), so be prepared to fret over what to choose: An old-fashioned lemon icebox cake with layered butter cookies, lemon curd and whipped cream perhaps? Homemade Austrian brioche donuts with plenty of yeast and rich texture? Classic tiramisu? Or the impeccable sflogliatelle that Strausman perfected, stuffed with ricotta and candied fruit, of which he is very proud after working tirelessly to get the tricky pastry the way he knew it should be? “After I gave up my motorcycle in mid-life,” he says, “I decided to learn how to bake bread, because every great restaurant in France always makes its own bread and pastry.”
      As a very New York-style brasserie M.O.M. is as much about customer satisfaction as good food, and you can tell that it gets a very regular crowd. “A lot of Millennial restaurateurs need to learn more about hospitality,” Strausman says, “and the way you treat people who are your guests.” That attitude comes across at M.O.M. as surely as do those big plates of the kind of good, honest food that takes a lifetime of experience to get right and keep consistent.

Open for lunch, Tues.-Fri.; Dinner Tues.-Sat.; Brunch Sat. & Sun.