© Marazem | Dreamstime.com
My Dad was not good in the kitchen. My Mother was a stay-at-home Mom (well until I was thirteen and they bought a Pharmacy, then she went to work there with him). She made absolutely everything from scratch. We didn’t buy a lot of processed foods.
There was one thing, however, that Dad was known for cooking, and that was steak! He did all the grilling, but his passion was steak. He used the 2-7-5 minute formula to achieve the perfect medium doneness; however, that was taking into consideration that the butcher cut all our steaks to the perfect thickness. LOL.
I remember steak nights were always a big deal. I would help make foil parcels of onions and mushrooms with butter, salt, and pepper, and sealed tight enough that they wouldn’t leak out when turned. They had to be separate because my Dad hated mushrooms. Potatoes were either done on the grill or baked in the oven.
I think if nothing else in the world, my Dad would be proud of me in how I can cook a steak. I don’t eat a lot of meat; however, I cook it every day for my hubby. He likes his steaks medium rare, and while he does them on the BBQ when weather permits, I do them on my indoor grill the rest of the time. I have it down to a precise science…. actually no, I don’t. I heat the grill, season the meat, place it on the grill, shut the top plate over the meat and insert a thermometer and watch for the proper temp. When it gets there, I try the touch test and if the meat has just the right amount of “bounce” I take it off the heat, tent or cover it and start plating.
When I do eat a bite or two, I have to admit that I have picked up my father’s knack for grilling. I just hope he isn’t watching when I stick a metal probe in rather than timing the turns – with a double grill I don’t flip them at all!
Lydia!
Being Lydia! 