I made My Captain a Rib Eye steak in a Whiskey Cream Sauce today. I found it in Ree Drummond’s cookbook “The Pioneer Woman Cooks”.
Usually I like her recipes, but I have a small beef (ahem) with her about her use of the term “generously” as a definable amount.
You see, I was supposed to ‘generously’ salt the meat before I seared it. And I was also to ‘generously’ season the whiskey sauce with salt and pepper as I reduced and thickened it.
But see, if nothing else, I’m a generous person. I may be fat, I may be stupid, I may even, on occasion, be dorky, but miserly I most emphatically am not. I am one of the most generous-hearted persons you will ever meet.
I have to be to make up for all the rest of those deficits above.
So when I sprinkled the salt on generously, man, I SPRINKLED IT ON. I mean, I turned that Rib-Eye steak into salt-pork steak. And my whiskey cream sauce was so salty, I made the dead sea look diluted. (Exaggeration is like a bizillion times more interesting than understatement, don’t you agree?)
It was horrific. I could barely eat it, and I can eat just about anything.
And My Captain, the man who puts up with so much crap from me already, didn’t complain. I apologized profusely as we sat down to our quiet candle-lit meal. But you know what he said?
“It’s ok. I needed to replace my electrolytes anyways.”
I guess if I’m not famously known for my smoke-producing casseroles, maybe I’ll get known far and wide for my electrolyte-replacing steak dinners. Like a new meat-flavored Gatorade.
I’ll find my own little niche in life yet, just you wait.
Mama Boe 