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Steak

The best steaks are dependent on the quality and how they are cooked. We get ours from our local butcher. They go to the slaughterhouse each week and will only take animals that are completely calm when stunned as adrenaline ruins the meat.
The meat is hung for a while for the flavours to develop.
We sometimes have a nice piece of rump steak with a bit of fat around the edge (really enhances the flavour). Put on a plate, coat with oil and sprinkle cajun over and rub in. Leave for a while and then fry on a hot griddle. Medium rare for me.
 
mick cooper said:
Best steak I have ever tasted, anywhere in the world, is in South Africa

the quality of the meat is beyond awesome, and boy do they know how to cook it

Ribe eye for me

(followed by a bottle of statins)
Click to expand...

I have been told the is a good south African restaurant in Camden that does good steaks.
 
Love barbecuing cap off sirloin that's been marinated all day in red wine - a nice, affordable, fibre-shredding Montepulciano if I'm being particular. Like to use the reverse-searing technique. Pre-cook them on high indirect heat until the core has begun to cook slightly, then let them rest briefly while the grill is turned up high. Then, back on the grill to sear and seal before serving.

Most memorable serving was in an Argentinian steak house in Mexico City during the '86 World Cup. Rolled in there with a group of fellow media members after an afternoon of Margaritas and snacks at the Adidas mansion. We were seated next to a cordoned off section of seats. While we were enjoying pre-meal glasses of wine and appetizers, in rolls the Argentina football team. I have Diego Maradona seated just behind and beside my left shoulder.

Since we'd been enjoying earlier hospitality at the Adidas mansion, I had a swag bag filled with shirts and mini-Azteca balls. Pulled out two mini-balls and Diego graciously autographs both of them.

The steak was amazing. Tender and cooked to perfection.

The balls came home with me to Canada and stayed on a shelf in my home office until a decade or more later when my son and daughter were old enough to start kicking balls about in our back yard. Both autographed balls of the now-drug-disgraced Maradona were rolled out and used to help the kids get the early fundamentals of kicking a ball. Before long, the signatures were worn off and, eventually, the balls chucked out after being worn into a state of disrepair.

But I still remember that restaurant and the fabulous steaks.
 
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