Sunday dinner was a weekly tradition in my house growing up. The menu: steak, baked potatoes, a salad or other veggie item, and garlic bread. Dinner was always early (around 4:00 or 5:00), so by 10:00 when we were watching Dr. Who (another family tradition), mom would heat up a frozen pizza.
Last week marked a year since my mother passed away, and I was having a hard time of it. Loss is not something that can be quantified. It cannot be planned, measured, carried out and completed in an orderly fashion--even by the most diehard "type A" gal. Believe you me (I have tried).
But sadness is tiring, and frankly, it can be exasperating. So, after quite a few days of the mopey boo-hoo's, I awoke on Friday with an idea: Sunday steak celebration... in honor of mom!
No matter that I had never cooked a steak in my life! I was armed with basic meat cooking knowledge after last week's Science of Meat class.
By Saturday morning I had a head count of five. I biked to the Greenmarket, and loaded up on Brussels sprouts, Russet potatoes, garlic, late-season scallions and fresh dill.
I pedaled home to drop the produce and then headed to Fleisher's Grassfed and Organic Meats, the butcher shop featured in the New York Times article I shared last Sunday.
I stared at the case for a few moments, in awe of all the raw, red slabs of potential goodness that were nearly shouting "Cook me!" from beneath the glass. Only the query posed by the hot and heavily tattooed man behind the counter could break that trance.
Indeed, you can help me I thought, and then I reminded myself that I was there for one thing only--grass-fed, organic steak from a local farm. And it would be best not to say anything embarrassing. Too many unknowns, but most importantly, a good local butcher is hard to find!
After a brief discussion about my lack of steak experience, my budget, how many people were coming, and their "meat-eater" status, the hot tattooed butcher loaded up the scale with 3.8 lbs of dry-aged sirloin steak (for 5 plus leftovers). He then gave me instructions that were unbelievably simple.
I carried the steaks home and emailed my dad excitedly about my plans. He knows me so well that he included in his reply: "Remember, don't overcook those great steaks!"
I was a little anxious, but the butcher had given me solid advice and had told me, "This will be the best steak you've ever had."
By golly, he was right. But the steaks were as big as my head. And, it turns out we weren't "meat-eaters" enough to put down more than one as a group.
It was great fun cooking them though, despite my anxiety. HA, the MEs, and LP talked me through it (and took photos). We salted them and waited 5 minutes and then seared them on each side for 2 minutes in separate oven-proof skillets. They then went into the oven at 325 for 8 minutes, after which, HA showed me how to test the steaks by poking at them with an index finger. It's all about the springiness!
We then dug out the meat thermometer. Although it read a solid 120, we weren't completely convinced they were done. We upped the temperature another 25 degrees and cooked them another 2 minutes.
And, they were deliciously just right in the meatiest parts! I did not overcook those great steaks!
We had a wonderful meal. (See below for the full menu.) We did not, however, leave enough room or time for pizza (which was a shame because HA came over that afternoon and made fresh sausage for a topping).
We did, however, squeeze in a few episodes of Dr. Who from the late 70s. It was a Sunday evening of which mom would have been proud. Steak, baked potatoes, garlic bread and family!
Sunday Dinner for Mom
(with a few things added by me)
Starters
Deviled Eggs (with dill and scallions)
Hubbard Squash Soup with Thyme Sour Cream (by HA)
Roasted Almonds (with jerk seasoning and soy sauce)
Blue Cheese with Fig Butter and Truffle Honey
Main and Sides
Steak!
Baked Potatoes (with basil pesto sour cream)
Garlic Bread
Brussels Sprouts with Mushrooms
Dessert
Pumpkin Cookies with Vanilla Ice Cream and Maple Spice Gelato
Last week marked a year since my mother passed away, and I was having a hard time of it. Loss is not something that can be quantified. It cannot be planned, measured, carried out and completed in an orderly fashion--even by the most diehard "type A" gal. Believe you me (I have tried).
But sadness is tiring, and frankly, it can be exasperating. So, after quite a few days of the mopey boo-hoo's, I awoke on Friday with an idea: Sunday steak celebration... in honor of mom!
No matter that I had never cooked a steak in my life! I was armed with basic meat cooking knowledge after last week's Science of Meat class.
By Saturday morning I had a head count of five. I biked to the Greenmarket, and loaded up on Brussels sprouts, Russet potatoes, garlic, late-season scallions and fresh dill.
I pedaled home to drop the produce and then headed to Fleisher's Grassfed and Organic Meats, the butcher shop featured in the New York Times article I shared last Sunday.
I stared at the case for a few moments, in awe of all the raw, red slabs of potential goodness that were nearly shouting "Cook me!" from beneath the glass. Only the query posed by the hot and heavily tattooed man behind the counter could break that trance.
Indeed, you can help me I thought, and then I reminded myself that I was there for one thing only--grass-fed, organic steak from a local farm. And it would be best not to say anything embarrassing. Too many unknowns, but most importantly, a good local butcher is hard to find!
After a brief discussion about my lack of steak experience, my budget, how many people were coming, and their "meat-eater" status, the hot tattooed butcher loaded up the scale with 3.8 lbs of dry-aged sirloin steak (for 5 plus leftovers). He then gave me instructions that were unbelievably simple.
I carried the steaks home and emailed my dad excitedly about my plans. He knows me so well that he included in his reply: "Remember, don't overcook those great steaks!"
I was a little anxious, but the butcher had given me solid advice and had told me, "This will be the best steak you've ever had."
It was great fun cooking them though, despite my anxiety. HA, the MEs, and LP talked me through it (and took photos). We salted them and waited 5 minutes and then seared them on each side for 2 minutes in separate oven-proof skillets. They then went into the oven at 325 for 8 minutes, after which, HA showed me how to test the steaks by poking at them with an index finger. It's all about the springiness!
We then dug out the meat thermometer. Although it read a solid 120, we weren't completely convinced they were done. We upped the temperature another 25 degrees and cooked them another 2 minutes.
And, they were deliciously just right in the meatiest parts! I did not overcook those great steaks!
We had a wonderful meal. (See below for the full menu.) We did not, however, leave enough room or time for pizza (which was a shame because HA came over that afternoon and made fresh sausage for a topping).
We did, however, squeeze in a few episodes of Dr. Who from the late 70s. It was a Sunday evening of which mom would have been proud. Steak, baked potatoes, garlic bread and family!
Sunday Dinner for Mom
(with a few things added by me)
Starters
Deviled Eggs (with dill and scallions)
Hubbard Squash Soup with Thyme Sour Cream (by HA)
Roasted Almonds (with jerk seasoning and soy sauce)
Blue Cheese with Fig Butter and Truffle Honey
Main and Sides
Steak!
Baked Potatoes (with basil pesto sour cream)
Garlic Bread
Brussels Sprouts with Mushrooms
Dessert
Pumpkin Cookies with Vanilla Ice Cream and Maple Spice Gelato
Comments
Post a Comment