The Hollow Leg Diner: Rare meat

I don't know about you, but I like a nice, juicy, rare to medium-rare steak. There is nothing quite so delightful as a tender bit of meat that is moist and flavorful, with just the right char and grill marks on the surface and a luscious pink center. I live for a perfectly grilled steak. Hell, I even like rare burgers. I can't stand meat that has been over-cooked. No amount of sauce, gravy or fancy foo-foo reduction will disguise the crime of overdone meat. So now we have established my thoughts on this subject. With that as background, I'll tell you a little about marriage. Marriage is all about compromise; give and take. Two individuals forsake their selfish desires and come together as a couple. The whole being greater than the sum of the two parts. It is a beautiful thing. There is only one problem......my wife was raised in a family where well done is the rule. I'm down with the whole marriage concept; loving, sharing, compromise, yada, yada, yada; but I cannot stand to see a good piece of meat cooked into shoe leather. As much as I'm willing to compromise on other issues, I cannot, in good conscience, allow a good steak to be cooked well done. Not on my watch and definitely not at my hands on my grill. Even if it is Wifey-poo who wants said meat immolated until void of all flavor; I can't do it. This issue never really came up while we were dating. We ate out most of the time and I didn't have to do any of the cooking. Once we got married, I realized that something was amiss. Lupe would only eat around the edges of a steak; saving the center for leftovers. She knew that I would either eat it as is, or she would nuke it to an overall gray in the microwave. I didn't catch on at first, but the pattern soon became apparent. She was too polite to tell me that she didn't think it was cooked enough. Eventually I caught on and we had numerous discussions over dinner concerning doneness (yeah, it's a word). This is where I question my being a good husband. Rather than just accepting that Lupe likes meat well done, I launched a crusade to 'educate her palate' and get her to accept that meat is better rare-medium than well done. Yeah, I know; a little arrogant. I just thought that, since she never had properly cooked meat before, she would would learn to like rare/medium meat once she tried it a few times. So began my campaign to teach Lupe to like rare. I'll be the first to admit that starting with a roasted leg of lamb might have been the wrong move. Lupe had never eaten roasted lamb before, and the medium-rare juicy goodness was a little too much for her. I like a little juice running down my chin. Lupe wasn't convinced. It wasn't even back to square one. Now she was afraid to try anything rare. I tried a few other dishes, but didn't make much progress. She just wasn't buying the whole concept. We just agreed to disagree. Eventually, her birthday rolled around and I suggested that we do something different to celebrate. I took her down to Kellog Park at La Jolla for a BBQ'd dinner. I had found some monster ribeye steaks at the store that I just couldn't resist. Along with the steaks, I made sourdough garlic bread and sliced sweet potato, Vidalia onions and squash for the grill. By the time we got everything unloaded from the car and managed to get the fire going it was already getting dark. The only available grill in the park was tucked away in a corner, under some trees. It was nearly pitch black at the grill by the time the coals were ready. I had to do all the cooking by the glow of the charcoals. I flipped the veggies constantly to keep them from getting too charred. I had to go strictly by feel to check the doneness of the steaks. Once I was satisfied that all was perfectly (or at least adequately) cooked, I brought everything back to the picnic table. We ate her birthday meal in the dark, listening to the sound of the surf. Maybe I should have brought a lantern. Live and learn. We still had a great time. We took pictures of each other, sitting in the dark with our dinner. Throughout the evening, Lupe kept remarking that it was the best steak she ever had. I just put it down to the setting, the BBQ and the awesome ribeyes. I didn't even think about the doneness issue. It wasn't until we got home and I downloaded the pictures that I realized. Before showing the pictures to Lupe, I asked her again what she thought of the steaks. "Best steak I've ever had," she said. (OK-I was also fishing for compliments). Once it was on the record, I showed her the pictures. PROOF.

From The Hollow Leg Diner - images

Without the visual reminder that she was eating a rare steak, Lupe was able to appreciate the flavor and the texture. I think we had a breakthrough.
Back to the marriage angle. Just so you don't think I'm an absolute wanker, I try to reach a compromise on the doneness issue. I leave Lupe's food on the grill a little longer so she won't have to deal with really rare meat. She now understands that meat doesn't have to be charred to a crisp to be safe. We have struck a mutually agreeable balance. Compromise, if you will. Ahhh, marriage. It is a beautiful thing.