To contradict everything vegetarian that I wrote in my previous post I absolutely love steak. For me there is nothing better than a great rare steak, a dollop of English mustard, a glass of red wine, some triple cooked chips and a big pot of hollandaise or pepper sauce for dunking.
When I lived in Melbourne I was absolutely spoilt for choice with venues serving up fantastic steak, I frequented two hatted Rockpool on not one, not two but three occasions (ah so that's where my money went). I also enjoyed beautiful dining at Steer with handsome housemate PW and Euro ladies man LM on more than one occasion and I reguarly visited the Napier for great value kangaroo with Melbourne foodie RF.
So moving back to the UK was a bit of a steak anti-climax. The problem is that despite watching a hundred videos educating me on how to cook the perfect steak I absolutely suck at it. I do everything by the book, I season the meat, leave it to get to room temperature, smear it with oil before putting it in the scorching hot pan as oppose to pouring the oil directly in. I leave it sizzle for one side for the appropriate amount of time for medium-rare NOT turning it (for fear of all hell breaking loose) until agonisingly eventually turning it to reveal a blackened bleeding mess rather than the beautiful scorched perfectly done meat ala Heston or Jamie.
I didn't know what I was doing wrong, well actually I did. I firmly decided that steak is a dish best served in a restaurant. From then on I vowed never to attempt to cook it but to jump at the opportunity to eat it whenever i'm in decent restaurant. With that in mind when I first moved to Nottingham I took my mum to a 'gastropub' in the Lace Market. Now I'm no snobby food critic but it was bloody awful, and by bloody I mean literally...bloody awful.
With the taste of failure and badly cooked pepper sauce in my mouth I vowed not only not to cook steak again but never to mention it's name in Nottingham. Steak was dead to me, that was until I went to The Library.
The Library (http://www.thelibrarybarkitchen.co.uk/) is a great little spot in Beeston, looking a little worn around the edges now and forgiving it's somewhat crazy menu and bizarre outdated website it's a great place for some candlelit treats and a damn good glass of Australian Shiraz. I eyed the steak nervously, could I do it? Could I dare risk £13 of my hard earned academic cash to run through the gauntlet of chewy meat and bitter disappointment? Feeling in a ballsy mood I decided to go for it, and for once, my steak gamble paid off. The meat was beautiful, the chips were perfection, I could have happily drank my pepper sauce neat, even the salad was brilliant.
I'm raving now, but seriously, if like me your are jaded by steak and apparently incapable of achieving anything remotely edible at home go to the Library. Just go, book a train, do it.
Actually i'm going to do it, right now. I'd better get moo-ving
Now THAT was bloody awful.
When I lived in Melbourne I was absolutely spoilt for choice with venues serving up fantastic steak, I frequented two hatted Rockpool on not one, not two but three occasions (ah so that's where my money went). I also enjoyed beautiful dining at Steer with handsome housemate PW and Euro ladies man LM on more than one occasion and I reguarly visited the Napier for great value kangaroo with Melbourne foodie RF.
So moving back to the UK was a bit of a steak anti-climax. The problem is that despite watching a hundred videos educating me on how to cook the perfect steak I absolutely suck at it. I do everything by the book, I season the meat, leave it to get to room temperature, smear it with oil before putting it in the scorching hot pan as oppose to pouring the oil directly in. I leave it sizzle for one side for the appropriate amount of time for medium-rare NOT turning it (for fear of all hell breaking loose) until agonisingly eventually turning it to reveal a blackened bleeding mess rather than the beautiful scorched perfectly done meat ala Heston or Jamie.
I didn't know what I was doing wrong, well actually I did. I firmly decided that steak is a dish best served in a restaurant. From then on I vowed never to attempt to cook it but to jump at the opportunity to eat it whenever i'm in decent restaurant. With that in mind when I first moved to Nottingham I took my mum to a 'gastropub' in the Lace Market. Now I'm no snobby food critic but it was bloody awful, and by bloody I mean literally...bloody awful.
With the taste of failure and badly cooked pepper sauce in my mouth I vowed not only not to cook steak again but never to mention it's name in Nottingham. Steak was dead to me, that was until I went to The Library.
The Library (http://www.thelibrarybarkitchen.co.uk/) is a great little spot in Beeston, looking a little worn around the edges now and forgiving it's somewhat crazy menu and bizarre outdated website it's a great place for some candlelit treats and a damn good glass of Australian Shiraz. I eyed the steak nervously, could I do it? Could I dare risk £13 of my hard earned academic cash to run through the gauntlet of chewy meat and bitter disappointment? Feeling in a ballsy mood I decided to go for it, and for once, my steak gamble paid off. The meat was beautiful, the chips were perfection, I could have happily drank my pepper sauce neat, even the salad was brilliant.
I'm raving now, but seriously, if like me your are jaded by steak and apparently incapable of achieving anything remotely edible at home go to the Library. Just go, book a train, do it.
Actually i'm going to do it, right now. I'd better get moo-ving
Now THAT was bloody awful.
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