Writing pun-y food blog titles is fucking hard. Anyway! First food blog in a meellion years! Woot!
<ian> After Mr. Dufresne’s masterpiece, we needed a little time to recuperate, no? </ian>
Frankly I’m a little surprised that he decided his first food blog in the new house would actually be one that was not IN the new house. He’s got this ridiculous giant new kitchen, with a fancy-schmancy brand-new stove (all four burners work! how long has it been since all four of our burners worked!), but instead, he decided to go all old-school caveman Luddite-style, and grill me a hunk-a-meat. Damn. Finally. Girl needs a steak.
So. How to Grill a Steak, a la Ian:
Step 1: Apparently it involves…this stuff? Anchovy paste? Oh, Ian. You gastrosexual, you. [Quick Feminist Rage intermission: this reminds me of when black second-wavers got mad at white second-wavers for whining about wanting to work outside the home, because? Some women always HAD to work outside the house, you know, you whiny white bitches? I'm just sayin'. Carry on, gastrosexuals!]
<ian> Eh… so, I feel that I have to defend myself here. The thing is… I am just not that wild about the taste of pure meat in general. It’s the whole fajitas vs. fillet mignon thing: I will essentially always choose the crappy cut of meat, hyper-seasoned and beat to hell, over the $75 cut of still-kinda-chewy-and-only-beef-flavored cow butt. Seriously. I will order tofu over beef/chicken in a restaurant because the tofu absorbs the sauce’s flavor better. When I was ~15 years old, I ceased partaking in steak grill-outs at my grandparents’ house (my grandpa was renowned for his ability to grill a steak before the emphysema crippled him [FUCK YOU, BIG TOBACCO]) in favor of eating the accoutrement: corn, potatoes, salad, fresh bread, jello with delightful fruit additions (shut up; it tastes better when your grandma makes it), etc. Since then, I’ve really not had any steak. Plenty of beef, for sure, but essentially no steak except on the rare occasion when Jessica complained enough for me to make one pan-fried in butter on the stove. So, anyway, when it came time to utilize my new first-floor-plus-access-to-backyardish-grilling-area status, I decided to go for steak + delicious sauce accompaniment. Besides, MBG has regaled me with stories of delicious steak toppings in the past. I can’t be outdone! </ian>
My only argument in the “meat-flavored-meat vs. curry-flavored-goat” argument is this one: WD-50’s hamachi. Take that!
Step 2: Set a fire!
Step 3: Re-set it: why not? It was fun the first time!
Step 4: You know what? Fuck that! Set that motherfucker AGAIN!
<ian> Let’s totally go to Burning Man next year! Also, as you may know from previous posts, my primary method of conveyance now is my (freaking awesome) bicycle. Hence me forgetting to unroll my right pants cuff after making a quick run to the store to pick up garlic and onion. </ian>
Holy shit, yo. Step 5: Beat out fire that has started against the outside wall of your 150-year old tinder-dry new house.
Step 6: Contemplate the idea that there is no meaning to be found in the world beyond what meaning we give to it. Indeed, there is no such thing as a good person or a bad thing; what happens happens, and it may just as well happen to a good person as to a bad person.
Step 7: Hungry! Eat steak!
Step 8: Cook it first. More contemplation. Perhaps you were previously hasty. In fact, are we here trying to understand the meaning of the word “nothing” (the negation of existence) by presuming it must refer to something? For existence is in fact not a property.
<ian> Hey! I hear a sizzle! </ian>
Step 9: Shit! Forgot side-dish! Create hot beets! Beets! Beet-beets!
Step 10: Call your father for help and advice. Three-and-a-half minutes per side, or four? Are we projecting anxiety and meaninglessness (features of modern society) onto the very nature of existence itself? (Those are peaches in the background! For dessert!)
Time to eat!
Erwin would like some cow, plsthnx.
<ian> I guess it’s my turn for the embarrassing beets-on-face photo. *FROWN* </ian>
Delicious!
The parsley butter topping was quite literally unfairly delicious. I use this word in all sincerety, as a steak-lover and a person who really was craving just a bloody pink chunk of beef with maybe some salt on it. Like, this shit was so bloody good that we ended up sopping it up with cheap-ass toasted plain old sliced bread and THAT was fucking delicious, too. I wanted it on the grilled peaches. I wanted it on chocolate ice cream. I wanted it smeared glistening onto my creamy taut thighs. The steak was basically inconsequential. It might as well have been a tofu burger. I cared not. The beets were yummy. The peaches, drizzled with honey, were yummy. Both would have been improved with a little bit of parsley butter. Fuck. This post would be improved with a little bit of parsley butter. Just go on: I’ll wait while you make a batch up real quick. Then just go on and smear it all over your monitor. Just – just go on and get it all on there real good. Yeaahhhh. Just like that. And go on and just save a little for my glistening thighs, too, please. Thankssss.
<ian> Ehem. It’s garlic and anchovy butter, not parsley butter. Also, Ian 1, boring meat consumption 0. The butter rules and actually made me like eating the steak. I count this as a victory! </ian>
Well, fine, but in defense of calling it “parsley butter,” the parsley was the thing I tasted most. The anchovy was really really subtle, just giving it a nice saltiness and a sort of fishy meaty extra layer, and the garlic was recognizable but not the most prominent flavor. It tasted like parsley. So. You know. There.
Actually, also, a word on the beets, because I think Ian’s about to shit-talk them: they’re really good. We’ve been working to perfect the recipe for a couple tries now, and it’s still not there, but it’s such a yummy but totally unexpected combination – the beets with the mustard and the creamy – that it’s definitely, definitely worth trying again. So. Big up to beets and all. Plus, it makes your poop red the next day!
<ian> Nothing more to say, really… they’re great, but a work in progress. The primary problem in my mind is that we’re using the wrong mustard (keep forgetting to buy new good stuff from the store post-move), and there’s something a bit off (texture-wise) with the last step of the preparation, the second baking of the beets with the sauce added. It shouldn’t be too hard to fix. </ian>
Anyway, Ian has decided that he does not like to grill, and so has declared me the Official Grill Person from now on. So next food blog: extremely rare steak with nothing but salt. Challenge!!!!! (Shouted in French accent, while drawing sword!)
<ian> It’s true. Grilling is way less fun than I expected. I think I prefer working in the kitchen, but frankly, this is nothing new. When I was growing up, I always ended up inside in the kitchen with the ladies at family BBQs, rather than outside with the fellahs, staring at the grill. *shrug* I like my knife. Deal with it. Rock and roll. </ian>
(Also: all references to Existentialism blatantly plagiarized from Wikipedia. Sorry, tubez!!)
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