Give us an outdoor fire and a couple of cast iron kettles, and Siobhan and I become the Julia Child And Martha Stewart Of The Woods. Hand us a chunk of meat and point us toward the kitchen, and chaos and mayhem too often follow...
Take yesterday. Totally burnt out on healthy eating, Siobhan and I voted to fix steak for dinner. (This was a bold act of rebellion--normally we eat red meat only on Christmas Day.) Liam practically shouted "Thank the good Lord--meat at last!"
While the steaks were marinating, dark clouds were rolling in. Soon the window panes rattled with the ominous rumble of thunder, and angry bolts of lightning flashed all around us. What choice did we have but to cook the steaks inside?
Siobhan and I are devoted disciples of fire pits and grills; the idea of cooking meat on a stove was more than a little daunting. How were we going to do this? Should we try broiling them on a rack, or baking them in a roasting pan? With husbandly patience and understanding, Liam loudly sighed and rolled his eyes to heaven. After rattling and clanging around in the cupboard, he emerged with three brand-new Lodge oval cast iron skillets, complete with cute handle potholders and wood boards to sit them on. (Oh yeah-- I remember now--I bought them at a yard sale last year...So THAT'S where they went!)
Siobhan recognized them at once, as her boyfriend is avid meat eater--"That's how they cook steaks at the steakhouse!" She jumped online and found a recipe for Easy Fail-Proof Pan Seared Best Steak You Ever Ate. It sounded simple enough...
So with a glass of wine and a cheerful attitude, we followed the instructions to a tee:
1. Place clean dry cast iron skillet on stove burner--NO oil, butter, or grease--and turn burner on high.
2. Heat skillet to Smoking Hot--when drop of water will hop around in pan before evaporating.
3. Place steak in middle of skillet; cook for 2 minutes.
** IT IS NORMAL FOR PAN TO SMOKE, CRACKLE, AND SIZZLE. DO NOT PANIC. IGNORE SMOKE-- DO NOT MOVE STEAK FROM BURNER OR REDUCE HEAT. **
4. When 2 minutes are up, turn steak over, taking care to place it exactly where first side lay. Cook this side on high heat for 2 minutes. (Again, see warning above.)
5. Remove skillet from burner and place in a pre-heated oven. Cook at 325 deg. until meat thermometer reaches desired temperature for rare/medium/well done.
Piece of cake. Or at least, it should've been. ( Maybe it would have been, if we hadn't been cooking 3 at a time.)
The first 2 minutes were uneventful; the pan-side of all three browned beautifully. I suppose Siobhan and I were too focused on timing each pan to even notice the smoke. But then we turned all the steaks...
Thirty seconds later, the first smoke alarm went off: beep... BEEP... BEEP... BEEP...Our 3-legged dog hid under the desk. Liam remained in the study.
Coughing, Siobhan looked over her shoulder and said "Christ on a cracker! Look at all the smoke!" From the kitchen ceiling all the way down to our knees was filled with meat-scented smoke. And we still had a whole minute to go. We resisted the urge to crawl on our bellies to safety; instead, Siobhan ran around opening windows while I guarded the pans and the clock. On went the coughing and beeping...
Twenty seconds to go, and the 2nd smoke alarm went off: fire! FIRE! FIRE! FIRE! .....Siobhan and I laughed heartily; we had no idea our smoke alarm could talk. Meanwhile, our 3-legged dog flung herself through the pet door and hid in the garden. Liam still remained in the study.
Finally our 2nd two minutes were up, and we shoved all three skillets in the oven. By now, our other two dogs were barking, adding to the coughing/beeping/laughing/fire-yelling cacophony. Still no Liam. With thoughts of smoke inhalation looming in our heads, we burst into his study...Calmly he sat in front of his computer screen, telephone in hand. Siobhan exclaimed "Thank goodness you're okay! We thought you'd died in the fire!" Without even blinking, Liam replied "What fire?!" And so we try to explain...and explain...and explain...Then--
Oh dear. We forgot the steaks. In dread, we ran back to the kitchen, yanked open the oven door, and ... damnation! Three new skillets, all filled with crispy black leathery unidentifiable remnants of meat. Bummer.( I would love to get my hands on the lunatic that wrote that fail-proof crap.) Sighing, we throw the smoldering remains in the trash bin, retrieve our traumatized dog from under the patio chair, and sent Liam out for burgers. We've decided that steak is over-rated anyway. But the next time we have a fire, I intend to slap Liam silly before I run outside. Just to save his life. (Hopefully he'll follow.)
Until next time--
Grainne
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