For dinner, I decide to get Trump's favorite food: steak. I found a place in Brooklyn that sells a reasonable New York strip (his favorite cut) and ordered it well done with ketchup. When the plate was set in front of me, it became clear why he takes it with ketchup — it's the only way to get any flavor out of a dried-out, burnt-to-a-crisp hunk of well-done meat. It's not bad, per se, but it's not great either. I feel the need to apologize to the waiter.
