WHENEVER I’M GOING TO GRILL, the first thing I usually do is pick up the phone and call Maria. She runs things down at Florence Prime Meat Market, a tiny butcher shop on a side street in Greenwich Village. Screen door, sawdust on the floor, been open since 1936.
Benny Pizzuco, a longtime butcher, owns it, but Maria is the one behind the counter, surrounded by a bunch of guys with thick forearms, standing over big, worn-down butcher blocks, carbon-steel knives in hand.
My order is almost always the same: dry-aged, thick-cut rib steaks, bone in. And however many people I tell Maria I’m having over, she usually portions out enough for two more. Some folks would call this upselling, but when the meat is this tasty, I don’t argue.…