Unglamorous Steak Recipe

These photos are the dream. Open fire. Big smoky flavours. The comforting crackle of wood burning. Fat dripping and hissing on the flames. The pine-scented air of the great outdoors. A whiskey flask. A soulful harmonica. And something like this 👇

“The fire at camp is burning bright,
Cook’s got more wood than he needs.
They’ll be telling some windy tales tonight
Of races and big stampedes.
I’m gettin’ too old fer that line of talk.
The desperaders they’ve knowed,
Their wonderful methods of handling stock,
And the fellers they’ve seen get throwed.”

-Bruce Kiskaddon (Cowboy poet, 1878-1950) excerpt from “The Old Night Hawk”

Unfortunately, I’m not a cowboy (surprise!). And this steak recipe is decidedly unglamorous 😂.

For most of the year, I pan-sear our steaks for one, or two, or four, in the kitchen in a frypan. Not even a grill pan. Plain old frying pan. It’s close to hand and easiest to clean. Yes, the steaks look lonely (below) without all the outdoorsy accruements. And yes, they don’t have that outdoors smoky deliciousness, but the right spice marinade can go an awful long way in an unglamorous steak recipe.

Re cooking, for me, I do four minutes a side for a one inch steak, and then rest for five. Three minutes a side for a thinner steak or for medium-rare. I MUCH prefer medium, and find most accept that level of doneness. Rare and overdone are the party-killers.

Here’s a nice visual guide to steak doneness.

As for cut, well, I can’t eat fatty or chewy, much as many people say the marbling is the best. So, I’ve conditioned my family to enjoy trimmed, leaner cuts. My favourite beef cuts are eye fillet, which can be eye-wateringly expensive, and rump, which is eye fillet’s lesser cousin, but also less expensive (less thick so more a three-to-three-and-a-half minute job).

For the last words, and a final shot of whiskey, before we extinguish our campfire, back to the cowboy poet.

“I used to shrink when I thought of the past
And some of the things I have known.
I took to drink, but now at last,
I’d far rather be alone.
It’s strange how quick that a night goes by,
Fir I live in the days of old.
Up here where there’s only the hosses and I;
Up in the pinnacles bold.”

-Bruce Kiskaddon (Cowboy Poet, 1878-1950), excerpt from “the Old Night hawk” in Shorty’s Yarns, book in the public domain