Eating Authors: Michael Anderle

No Comments » Written on April 30th, 2018 by
Categories: Plugs
Michael Anderle

How has April gone by so fast? I blame the winter. Seriously, there was still snow falling well into the month. And then, a day or two of high temperatures, just to fool all the trees into budding, then cold again. Well, fine. Spring is finally here, and if we had to sacrifice most of this month to get there, I’ll take it. Just, enough with snow already. Let’s get on with the vernal stuff. If I wanted white powder, trust me, I know a guy.


Sorry, that’s all the segue I have in me today, so let’s get right to this week’s EATING AUTHORS guest, none other than Michael Anderle. In case you don’t know, Michael is an indie author whose personal story is the exception that proves the rule. He published his first book about two and half years ago. Within the next ninety days he had published four more books and was suddenly generating royalties — royalties, mind you, not sales — of over $10,000 a month.

I’m not sure how many titles he’s up to now. Depending on how you view it, his Kutherian Gambit series is up to at least 21 books allone. And then there’re the dozens of books, many of them spin-off series, that he’s co-written with authors like Craig Martelle, Ell Leigh Clarke, Paul C. Middleton, T. S. Paul, and others. If you’re like me, you’re already out of breath.

In a perfect world, Michael would reveal the mystic secrets of his success for this blog. Alas, we have to settle for a meal. Unless of course you think he’s encoded those secrets into his description of the event. I hear he’s sneaky that way, so… maybe.

LMS: Welcome, Michael. So, tell me about your most memorable meal.

MA: Now, I’m a Texan by birth, and I’ve lived in the state most of my fifty years so I have a penchant for enjoying steak. Especially a tender filet mignon (medium, pink with only a small line of red.)

Death Becomes Her

So, in 2009 myself and my three boys had a house we were living in up in the Lake Arrowhead area of California. For those who don’t know it, picture a scenic, beautiful clear lake about a mile up in the mountains with tall pine trees and beautiful lakeshore homes.

Now picture that they didn’t have a real steakhouse to speak of (that I knew about) and you see the issue.

It takes about thirty to forty-five minutes to come down the mountain and I didn’t have a CLUE where anything was once I got down, especially not a steak place I could trust. Fast forward a few months and I was dating a woman (who later became my wife, Judith) who lived in Orange County, California. For our first date, we found a restaurant that was in between our homes.

But for this particular date I had driven all the way over to OC. She asked me if I was missing any particular type of food, and I had to admit I was seriously jonesing for a steak.

The Dark Messiah

She knew the OC area very well, and suggested we try Maestro’s Steakhouse in Costa Mesa. I was game, but didn’t have a clue where Costa Mesa was. Judith is a more traditional woman, so I was driving which we have since learned is not the best solution for continued married bliss.

She drives now. Especially if I don’t have a clue about the area, or where we are going.

We drive from Coto de Caza (think Housewives of Orange County) over to Costa Mesa, driving for a while up the PCH 1 – idyllic. However, I was not paying too much attention to the scenery as I was 1) CLUELESS and 2) HUNGRY.

I recall having trouble finding parking once we arrived, as well. To set this up, this date was an early in our relationship and I was trying to impress her. It would have been nice if future me and come back to tell past me not to worry, “She is already into you.”

But, I apparently don’t walk timelines.

Payback Is A Bitch

The restaurant was near the water, everything was white linen, candles on the tables and we sat next to each other at a table for four instead of across from each other.

Like we were teenagers.

The food comes out, and they have my filet mignon on a hot, searing plate. It was blackened, the juices coming out of the steak… the aroma… I took a bite, the explosion of tender beef goodness covering my tastebuds and I turn to this lady… Who was staring at me with a bemused expression on her face. (I was obviously ignoring her at that moment.)

“Do you need some time with the meat? Just the two of you?” Judith asks me.

Without missing a beat, I smile and reply. “Yes, yes I do.”

Sometimes, the truth is written on your face and you have no option left but to confirm it.

Thanks Michael. Few things compare with a fine steak. I’ve since given up meat, but were I back in Japan and offered some properly prepared kobe, I’d be chowing down in no time.

Next Monday: Another author and another meal!

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