Poor dude. Cranky. Gots to have some animal protein every so often, so I agreed to a ribeye steak. Two.
The reason I was interested in the steak was that we had some leftover Andante herbed goat cheese, and I thought I'd love that melted over a slab of beef.
The cheese was a little too herby for my enjoyment on mere bread and crackers, but a hunk of charred meat likes some vegetation. And: Remember those anachronistic "upscale" hamburgers from the '70s with a wad of bleu cheese in the center? So this made sense, in a goofy way.
It was really too much meat for me, but... that's just me.
The best part is that Cranky allowed me to say when the steaks were done cooking. I've learned the trick about pinching the meat to see how resistant it is. Soft: raw. Firm: overdone.
This time I just used the tongs to press into them, and made a snap decision. At the right moment.
To my liking.
The steaks were beautifully, unimaginably mahoganized on the outside. And completely pink, throughout, on the inside.
OK, a little tough. But it's grass-fed beef and I'm a fan of the producer.
So there are leftovers.