Pan Grilled Steak

seigfredtristan — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 13:05:13 +0000

And so you go to your mom’s house furiously hungry for a lot of reasons, either you don’t want to spend your own money to eat, you are too lazy to do anything, or you just want to let your mom see that it’s her fault that you are famished. You kick the door open because it is still your house. Nobody is home. You rustle towards the kitchen and rip everything in sight. You try overturning the kitchen table but suddenly your eyes light up like halogen when you see a piece of meat dying. You claw it with your untrimmed nails and immediately recognize it as a steak-able meat. You don’t exactly care what kind of meat it is as you jump on to the stove, grab a pan, turn on the fire to high heat and your memories of reading this article, yes this exact article, produce a film of light from the back of your head as if you were given an aura by the Iron Chefs, so you start cooking. Like your first kiss that you want to erase from your memory, the instructions from this article on how to cook a pan grilled steak is as clear as crystal. You rub salt and pepper on your pet meat with your left hand while your right hand scoops a tablespoon of butter from the fridge and tosses it on the pan. How did that happen? You don’t know. When the foam on the butter disappeared like a good idea forgotten, you lay the meat with criminality on the pan. It sizzles, it burns, it cries for help but you tell it, “Shhhh, I will eat you… so keep quiet.” After a couple of minutes you turn it over. You don’t hear anything anymore. You wait for another two minutes, and then you take the pan off the heat and transfer the meat inside the oven in a roasting pan. You can’t remember who turned the oven on but it’s been heating at 190 degrees for quite a while now. You look around. No one’s there… except for a can of mushrooms. You hate your mom for buying canned stuff but you use it to your advantage. You open the can, drain the water and shoot all the mushrooms in the pan where you cooked your meat. You put the pan back on the fiery stove, toss it for a bit, right hand scooping and dunking a spoonful of butter on the pan again, left hand reaching for a bowl, turning on the faucet for half a cup of water, drowning 2 teaspoons of cornstarch in it and doodling your finger while pouring the mixture on the pan. You remember your ex so you scrape the pan until your veins pop out of your forehead. You take the pan off the fire and within 5 minutes you’ve made your first gravy. You look at your meat inside the oven it’s been there for 8 minutes. It’s done. You fork it out, place it on the plate, pour your gravy on it and you realize there are no potatoes. Only steamed rice in a gleaming pot. You are baffled why you have steamed rice. You aren’t even Asian. You think, you wouldn’t die if you eat steamed rice and steak. And so you do… with your bare hands…

myfilipinokitchen » grilled

Pan Grilled Steak