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Rare

by VM Brasseur on October 22nd, 2007

I don’t eat much red meat and when I do it’s usually in the presence of the Albertellis (cannot…resist…the…BBQ…).

Today, however, was different. I’d left work feeling uncharacteristically on top of everything. Not one but two projects got finished off and removed from the whiteboard today. A third project (which has vexed me for months) shows signs of imminent completeness. I left on time and got to go to the gym. I found out that I get the apartment I wanted and I get it for a $150/month discount because my credit doesn’t suck. It’s beef time!

Bless Trader Joe’s. Bless them and their frozen Australian grass-fed ribeye steaks. The 10″ cast iron frypan came down, got heated up nicely, then was filled with half a thinly sliced onion. After that started getting nice and crispy the onion was pushed to the sides while a pre-salted ribeye was slapped down the middle of the pan.

When in a restaurant I typically will order my meat (when I do order it at all) cooked medium-rare. I don’t often cook beef at home and even less often cook it in a non-braised fashion. This means I’m still learning how to do this “cook steak” thing correctly.

I removed my ribeye from the heat a bit early tonight, resulting in a well-seared but still rare hunk o’meat. In my defense, when I removed the meat from the pan I didn’t know it was early. The onions (very well done, salted, and approaching crispy by this point) were piled on top while the meat rested and I nuked some leftover veggies.

Reading blogs, I dove into my pile of meat and onions. That’s when I noticed that the pink I was expecting was actually a crimson. “Ah, screw it,” I thought. “I’m hungry and don’t feel like cooking more.” And thus I ate the rare (mostly raw) meat.

Did I die? Did I retch and convulse, clutching my throat as my eyes bugged out? Hardly. Instead I found myself enjoying my meal immensely. The onions were perfect. The beef, seasoned only with kosher salt, was very flavorful, tender and (most importantly) tasty. Sure, being rare it was a little harder to chew than I was used to but it was still good. Tasty beefy goodness…

I can almost hear my red blood cells raising their tiny voices for a round of Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus for all the readily-accessible iron I just sent their way this evening. Let’s not even discuss the fantastic protein. Oy! It makes me wish I’d lifted a lot more weight at the gym this evening!

If you’ve never tried it I suggest under-cooking your beef, just once. Come on, live a little. It’s beef. People eat it raw, so rare ain’t gonna kill ya. Mmm…meat.

From → Food

3 Comments
  1. mmmmm…. raw beef.

    When I was a kid, I used to sneak chunks of barely cooked ground beef out of the pan my mom was using to make spaghetti sauce.
    I also love a good carpaccio with just a little basalmic and shaved parmesan.
    My love for raw beef knows no class boundaries.

  2. Mom & Dad B permalink

    I assume that the apartment is the 1200 sq.ft.,top floor of the house that you liked.
    oh,I prefer my beef cooked a bit more.Although Rosemary’s mom used to eat raw hamburger when she cooked with it.I guess that way you could see how well you flavored it before cooking.

  3. It’s not usually my thing but for some reason it was really working for me yesterday. I don’t think I’m going to make it a habit but from time to time I’m likely to do it again.

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