I Cooked a Steak and I Liked It! - It's Easier Than the Guys Ever Say!

When I was a young woman in college, just like the Katy Perry song, I thought that kissing a girl sounded like quite the act of liberation. Now that I’m in my forties, I've learned that there are some practical things that offer far greater independence; like knowing how to hang a picture or check the oil in the car. Like not having to wait for anyone else to give you what you need or want.

One day last week, I was standing in front of the meat counter at Schnucks in a state of doubtful hesitation. I had a dilemma. New York strip steak was on sale. It was a great deal, and sitting right in front of me was an inch thick slice of prime beef, silently begging to go home with me. It was bright jewel-red color, beautifully marbled and the perfect size for one person.

The problem was that I had no idea how to cook it. For the last seven years at least, I’d always had a man to do it for me. I don’t even remember what I did before that. My common sense side told me to avoid it. It told me to pick up ground lean beef as I always do, to go home and make tacos or spaghetti Bolognese, two of my old standards.

But there’s another side to me. A secret side that quite frankly, likes luxury and the finer things in life. The beef called out to me again, reminding me that I might not see a deal this good in a while, and this time I could not resist. Into the cart it went, and consequences be damned.

Seven years ago we didn't have the internet and Google, to gently guide us through life’s big and small moments, to tell us what to look for in the perfect life partner, or how to braid our hair seven different ways, but now we do. So when I went onto About.com and read the instructions there, I was shocked. Surely it couldn't be this simple?

http://bbq.about.com/od/steaks/ss/aa101606a_3.htm

Like any true steak lover, I eat my steak medium rare and flinch at the prospect of overcooked meat, so I had to do it right.  Make sure the grill is super-hot? I could do that. Two to three minutes on either side? I could do that. It didn't say anything about seasoning, but I added salt and pepper anyway. I made a salad first and then set to grilling. It’s the resting that’s the important part of cooking steak. If you cut it too soon, all the juices will spill out, leaving you with an unhappy, dry hunk of beef. Nobody wants that. So I let mine rest for a full ten minutes.

I separated from my husband over three months ago. I've learned a lot in a very short time, such as exactly how much is in my bank account, that the lawn doesn't mow itself, and that sometimes, despite all your best intentions you cannot always live up to society’s expectations of how you should conduct your life. Sometimes you can’t meet your own. Sometimes, even though the last thing you want to do is hurt others, you cannot withstand the damage caused to yourself by not staying true to your own heart. 

When I finally sat down to eat, I cut my New York strip open in trepidation, to find that was exactly the color it was supposed to be, still nicely pink on the inside and completely tender. How did men manage (astonishingly!) to maintain the myth that cooking steak is difficult or complicated? I cooked a steak and I liked it. The meat melted in my mouth. It was delicious and I savored it like my freedom.