I'm not a big-time steak guy. There are too many wonderful permutations of pork to distract me. But Margy and I do like a good steak, and since we rarely have one, we tend to go for broke and get a porterhouse.
This one looked so great as I seasoned it up -- all thick and red and sturdy
"Is that cooked enough?" Margy asked.
"Yes," I said. In my heart, I wasn't sure.
I took a bite. Man, it was good.
"YES," I repeated, more firmly. "Don't worry. Eat it."
It was medium rare, more rare than we usually eat steak -- it was more like the way I usually cook lamb -- and it was a revelation. I had a good piece of meat on my hands, sure, but cooking it correctly made it that much better. I served it with a crispy-creamy potato gratin and broccoli rabe with garlic. With a big glass of red wine, it was a good way to end Margy's workweek. I bet we'll get another steak soon.