I am obsessive about cooking and serving meat at the optimal temperature for juiciness and flavor, and I've learned to just stop serving meat (unless it's braised) to a crowd. There's always somebody who's not comfortable eating meat with any trace of color in it, no matter the internal temperature, no matter the science.
These are no doubt people who "learned" somewhere that pink means unsafe, and that meat juices are "bloody."
(And some who love a rare steak get positively grossed out by a trace of pink in pork or turkey or chicken. It's cultural training.)
For what it's worth, modern precision cookers (aka sous vide) can help produce a well done steak that is devoid of color but still retains some juiciness. Unfortunately people accustomed to chewng on rawhide would probably still send it back.
A bad experience with sashimi led me to avoid anything rare for years, fearing another night on the toilet. Was surprised when I tried blackened rare tuna and had no effects.
My mother learned as a home ec major to appreciate medium- rare steak. Her oldest sister never outgrew that midwestern thought that steak had to be cooked until it was grey because she didn’t eat blood.
Thank goodness I'm not the only one who thought the Edinburgh jokes were bad especially the winner. Alexandria Petri had the top few on her chat today and I commented that the winner wasn't very good.
So when I’m grilling steak and want to check its doneness a second time, do I need to make a fresh cut into the meat, or can I use the cut I made the first time?
The first time I ate steak as a kid, I found the meat almost impossible to swallow until I had chewed each bite for about five minutes until there was almost nothing left of it. Not being the most patient or understanding of people, my parents made me sit at the table until I had finished. More than half an hour later I was still there, sitting in the dark by myself and masticating each bite into oblivion.
It's of absolute use! 115 is rare. 125 medium rare, 135 medium. After that you've destroyed it. And meat continues to cook after you've taken it off the heat if you cover it with foil. But most grill meats you let rest for 5 minutes so that the juices soak back in. There are many helpful recipes online depending on the cut you have. Happy grilling!
About this steak business... Quick quiz (disclaimer: not an official Gene Pool poll): Do those of you who like your steaks well-done, eat sushi or sashimi ? Tartares ? I'll take that as a "no." With the exception of possibly high-end eating establishments with name chefs, you should have the choice of having your dry-aged, carefully handled, at least 100% marked-up ribeye incinerated, if that's what floats your boat. In the usually chef-owned culinary salons however (assuming you can get something as mundane as a steak), you will probably have no such luck, whatever you're willing to pay. What you will likely hear from your server is a terse, take-it-or leave it statement similar to: "Chef cooks that medium rare," with a sneering, gratuitous "Okay ?" at its end. If you are not sufficiently intimidated by that, it is not unheard of for the chef to come to your table and personally shame you --- graciously, of course, because you're obviously a pitiable, uneducated boob with the palate of an armadillo --- and suggest something else. If, on the other hand, they approach you with an assistant holding your party's coats, you may assume your evening there is well, done.
My dad, a crusty old Greek guy who made it to the age of 99 liked his steak well done. Medium was the equivalent of raw. He also didn't much like vegetables. Preferred feta cheese with Italian bread. His diet did not affected his life span or his cognition.
Back in the olden days, girls didn’t drive on dates. But we could fit more kids in the Fury than my friend’s Duster, so I drove on a lot of group outings.
I don’t remember going to a drive-in as a teenager. My mom loves movies, so my sister and I went the drive-in in pajamas with my parents when we were little. I remember one movie called Boy’s Night Out that I am sure was dumb. But it had a song I kept singing “Hey there mister put a fence around your sister it’s the (pause for percussion) boy’s night out.
It is always a good idea to always look before opening a car door - what if a car is mightly close and takes off your door (or leg) because they are too close to your lane?
I was in DC a few months ago catering a conference at the Ronald Reagan Building and on the way home, I was in a traffic jam where the bike lanes are well marked and separated from the rest of the lanes by those orange sticks that look like long plungers when out of nowhere an idiot swerved into the bike lane, hitting those separator sticks, almost hitting the two bike riders using the lane, as well as the poor Uber driver who was getting out of his car (but who had the reactions of a cat - the Uber driver barely averted being what would have been a fatal accident by jumping across his front seats), at which point the idiot used the space between me and the car behind me to drive into the oncoming lane, through the red light, and back to our side of the road, where he came within inches of a parked car. It all took seconds. I hope he at least made it alone to the chop shop where he was bringing the car without killing anyone.
This is about steak, but not how it is cooked. My Grammaw made it through the Depression and WWII and was diehard about saving money. Even when things got fiscally better, she never, ever splurged. So when she served "steak," it was pan-fried round steak, the cheapest cut. Your jaw would get a work out eating this stuff. So my dad grew up thinking that this was what "steak" was.
Fast forward to young adult hood. My dad's uncle was arriving from California and my Grammaw sent him to Friendship Airport to pick him up. As they left the airport, Uncle Pete says he's hungry and he knew a good place for a steak nearby. Let's go, he says, my treat. (I wish to this day my dad could have remembered the name of the place!) My uncle orders and tells my dad to get any steak he wants. He, of course, does not want a steak when he can eat out. Why would he order THAT? So he tries to order something else, but my uncle won't hear of it. This place is famous for their steaks. Get a goddamn steak! Not wanting to upset his uncle, my dad gives in and my uncle orders him a steak. My dad never even remembered what kind of steak he got or how it was cooked. He just remembers his mind being blown. He had no idea steak could taste so delicious. From there on out, it was one of his favorite things to order, no matter where we went out to eat.
I can only assume it was cooked medium rare, because anything else is just CRAZY. :)
I rarely order steak when dining out, only because places famous for their steaks are out of my price range. My budget is more like Texas Roadhouse or Outback and I never go there. I rarely order spaghetti at restaurants as well, but for a different reason - my spouse makes a world-class sauce with ground beef and hot Italian sausage.
Fringe jokes: Obviously, none of them is a potentially laughable joke. Numbers 2 and 8 are, in my view, decent as witticisms. Putting it kindly, the winner is pathetic. I misremembered this as a previous memorable winner: “Jokes about white sugar are rare, but jokes about brown sugar? Demerara." Research shows, though, that was a comment by the 2019 winner rather than his entry. That prompted me to look up the 2019 top ten. I think them all superior to any of the current top ten. Has the pandemic dulled the collective sense of humor?
Meat: My father, mother, and sister ate their meat well-done, at home or in restaurants. My sister in ordering steak would specify "very well done, all black." I did not know until I went to college that meat had any taste. In college in the late 60s/early 70s, my dad would visit every few weeks, when he had business in the Harrisburg, Pa. area, and take me for a steak dinner at Culhane's Steak House, an out-of-the-way local treasure. I remember one time when the owner came to our table and said that they had just received strip steaks flown in from Kansas City and would cook one for me, medium rare, and would look for something in the kitchen to overcook for dad. I stopped eating red meat at the turn of the century (health and mammalian solidarity), but still remember that steak. In the poll, I voted that people should be able to have their steak cooked however they prefer.
Re: your dad’s last words — my dad, otherwise a healthy 70-year-old, contracted a severe virus that took him in 48 hours from mild cold-like symptoms to a raging fever and a racing heartbeat. Concerned about brain damage, the doctor held up a ballpoint pen in front of my dad and asked him if he could identify it. Dad struggled and he glanced at me for a hint. He couldn’t come up with the word “pen.” The doctor left the room. Dad was worried but unable to express his thoughts, any thoughts. In an effort to restore his confidence and calm his nerves, I took his hand and said to him, “Daddy, you went to Alabama, so who do you most want to beat?” Dad replied without hesitation: “That’d be Auburn.” Those would be Dad’s last words.
By the time I returned early the next morning, his temperature was over 104. Doctors and nurses were scrambling about, barking orders and applying ice to his body. Dad’s big barrel chest was heaving and panting. His deep blue eyes were glassy, darting around the hospital room, as if to ask (because he could not speak), “What’s happening to me?” Our eyes met and then he suffered a seizure. He spent the next five weeks in a “permanent vegetative state,” before he called it a day. Roll Tide.
The Dutch Reach is for saving bicyclists by forcing the occupants of a vehicle to look over their shoulder as they open the roadside door.
"As the name indicates, the ‘Dutch Reach’ originates from the Netherlands. It is a safety method encouraging vehicle drivers or passengers to open the door using their hand on the opposite side to the door they are opening. For example, using your left hand to open a door on your right-hand side."
Based on my experience in the Netherlands, the bike lanes are so well separated from the traffic lanes that I did not know that the Dutch Reach would be necessary. I must have seen too small a sample of the bike lanes (Leiden, Delft, The Hague and Amsterdam) to form an accurate impression.
Pet peeve - Please stop referring to the “Edinburgh Fringe Festival”! It isn’t called that and never has been. What does it even mean? A festival of fringes? There’s the main festival (Opera, military marches up and down and round and about etc.), and the one that grew up on the fringe of of it. Hence the “Edinburgh Festival fringe” - OK rant over, I feel better now. Thanks.
Re the Meat Poll. The fourth choice should have been, "Sure, as long as the one ordering is under 10 years old." (So emotionally, the Former Guy can order his steak that way.)
Congratulations to Molly. I see no sin in pride for the accomplishments of others. I once worked at the Uniformed Services University (Bethesda) and we offered a masters degree in public health. Good luck to her.
Let us consider (for the sake of conversation) that some trend setter gets a well done steak (not with katsup) and likes it. And it is a work of art. But takes more time and work.
It might look like this. But what will the chef do?
Who would want to sell that steak when they can toss a half raw one on a plate in five minutes. And they already charge a good price.
I usually go for medium. My wife likes closer to well done, but eats what I cook which is closer to rare. And the flavor is good.
But to say well done is burned is a bit far to go. No black burns on my meals. Just what the George Foreman grill produces. With some soy sauce on it and sometimes a bit of olive oil
We ought to line up support and have a go at it. It may keep the pot busy.
I am obsessive about cooking and serving meat at the optimal temperature for juiciness and flavor, and I've learned to just stop serving meat (unless it's braised) to a crowd. There's always somebody who's not comfortable eating meat with any trace of color in it, no matter the internal temperature, no matter the science.
These are no doubt people who "learned" somewhere that pink means unsafe, and that meat juices are "bloody."
(And some who love a rare steak get positively grossed out by a trace of pink in pork or turkey or chicken. It's cultural training.)
For what it's worth, modern precision cookers (aka sous vide) can help produce a well done steak that is devoid of color but still retains some juiciness. Unfortunately people accustomed to chewng on rawhide would probably still send it back.
A bad experience with sashimi led me to avoid anything rare for years, fearing another night on the toilet. Was surprised when I tried blackened rare tuna and had no effects.
My mother learned as a home ec major to appreciate medium- rare steak. Her oldest sister never outgrew that midwestern thought that steak had to be cooked until it was grey because she didn’t eat blood.
Thank goodness I'm not the only one who thought the Edinburgh jokes were bad especially the winner. Alexandria Petri had the top few on her chat today and I commented that the winner wasn't very good.
So when I’m grilling steak and want to check its doneness a second time, do I need to make a fresh cut into the meat, or can I use the cut I made the first time?
The first time I ate steak as a kid, I found the meat almost impossible to swallow until I had chewed each bite for about five minutes until there was almost nothing left of it. Not being the most patient or understanding of people, my parents made me sit at the table until I had finished. More than half an hour later I was still there, sitting in the dark by myself and masticating each bite into oblivion.
My tip is to buy a meat thermometer. It'll make your grilling so much easier and precise. I praise it every time I grill meat inside and out.
I own one but I had understood that it’s of no use for steak or burgers, just poultry and pork and roast beef.
It's of absolute use! 115 is rare. 125 medium rare, 135 medium. After that you've destroyed it. And meat continues to cook after you've taken it off the heat if you cover it with foil. But most grill meats you let rest for 5 minutes so that the juices soak back in. There are many helpful recipes online depending on the cut you have. Happy grilling!
About this steak business... Quick quiz (disclaimer: not an official Gene Pool poll): Do those of you who like your steaks well-done, eat sushi or sashimi ? Tartares ? I'll take that as a "no." With the exception of possibly high-end eating establishments with name chefs, you should have the choice of having your dry-aged, carefully handled, at least 100% marked-up ribeye incinerated, if that's what floats your boat. In the usually chef-owned culinary salons however (assuming you can get something as mundane as a steak), you will probably have no such luck, whatever you're willing to pay. What you will likely hear from your server is a terse, take-it-or leave it statement similar to: "Chef cooks that medium rare," with a sneering, gratuitous "Okay ?" at its end. If you are not sufficiently intimidated by that, it is not unheard of for the chef to come to your table and personally shame you --- graciously, of course, because you're obviously a pitiable, uneducated boob with the palate of an armadillo --- and suggest something else. If, on the other hand, they approach you with an assistant holding your party's coats, you may assume your evening there is well, done.
Now I want beef carpaccio.
My dad, a crusty old Greek guy who made it to the age of 99 liked his steak well done. Medium was the equivalent of raw. He also didn't much like vegetables. Preferred feta cheese with Italian bread. His diet did not affected his life span or his cognition.
Or his demeanor, either?
Back in the olden days, girls didn’t drive on dates. But we could fit more kids in the Fury than my friend’s Duster, so I drove on a lot of group outings.
How many people could you fit in the trunk to sneak into a drive-in?
I don’t remember going to a drive-in as a teenager. My mom loves movies, so my sister and I went the drive-in in pajamas with my parents when we were little. I remember one movie called Boy’s Night Out that I am sure was dumb. But it had a song I kept singing “Hey there mister put a fence around your sister it’s the (pause for percussion) boy’s night out.
It is always a good idea to always look before opening a car door - what if a car is mightly close and takes off your door (or leg) because they are too close to your lane?
I was in DC a few months ago catering a conference at the Ronald Reagan Building and on the way home, I was in a traffic jam where the bike lanes are well marked and separated from the rest of the lanes by those orange sticks that look like long plungers when out of nowhere an idiot swerved into the bike lane, hitting those separator sticks, almost hitting the two bike riders using the lane, as well as the poor Uber driver who was getting out of his car (but who had the reactions of a cat - the Uber driver barely averted being what would have been a fatal accident by jumping across his front seats), at which point the idiot used the space between me and the car behind me to drive into the oncoming lane, through the red light, and back to our side of the road, where he came within inches of a parked car. It all took seconds. I hope he at least made it alone to the chop shop where he was bringing the car without killing anyone.
This is about steak, but not how it is cooked. My Grammaw made it through the Depression and WWII and was diehard about saving money. Even when things got fiscally better, she never, ever splurged. So when she served "steak," it was pan-fried round steak, the cheapest cut. Your jaw would get a work out eating this stuff. So my dad grew up thinking that this was what "steak" was.
Fast forward to young adult hood. My dad's uncle was arriving from California and my Grammaw sent him to Friendship Airport to pick him up. As they left the airport, Uncle Pete says he's hungry and he knew a good place for a steak nearby. Let's go, he says, my treat. (I wish to this day my dad could have remembered the name of the place!) My uncle orders and tells my dad to get any steak he wants. He, of course, does not want a steak when he can eat out. Why would he order THAT? So he tries to order something else, but my uncle won't hear of it. This place is famous for their steaks. Get a goddamn steak! Not wanting to upset his uncle, my dad gives in and my uncle orders him a steak. My dad never even remembered what kind of steak he got or how it was cooked. He just remembers his mind being blown. He had no idea steak could taste so delicious. From there on out, it was one of his favorite things to order, no matter where we went out to eat.
I can only assume it was cooked medium rare, because anything else is just CRAZY. :)
I rarely order steak when dining out, only because places famous for their steaks are out of my price range. My budget is more like Texas Roadhouse or Outback and I never go there. I rarely order spaghetti at restaurants as well, but for a different reason - my spouse makes a world-class sauce with ground beef and hot Italian sausage.
Fringe jokes: Obviously, none of them is a potentially laughable joke. Numbers 2 and 8 are, in my view, decent as witticisms. Putting it kindly, the winner is pathetic. I misremembered this as a previous memorable winner: “Jokes about white sugar are rare, but jokes about brown sugar? Demerara." Research shows, though, that was a comment by the 2019 winner rather than his entry. That prompted me to look up the 2019 top ten. I think them all superior to any of the current top ten. Has the pandemic dulled the collective sense of humor?
Meat: My father, mother, and sister ate their meat well-done, at home or in restaurants. My sister in ordering steak would specify "very well done, all black." I did not know until I went to college that meat had any taste. In college in the late 60s/early 70s, my dad would visit every few weeks, when he had business in the Harrisburg, Pa. area, and take me for a steak dinner at Culhane's Steak House, an out-of-the-way local treasure. I remember one time when the owner came to our table and said that they had just received strip steaks flown in from Kansas City and would cook one for me, medium rare, and would look for something in the kitchen to overcook for dad. I stopped eating red meat at the turn of the century (health and mammalian solidarity), but still remember that steak. In the poll, I voted that people should be able to have their steak cooked however they prefer.
OMG. I love that you know and have been to Culhane's. It's still there. Still great. (At least it was 4 years ago.)
Re: your dad’s last words — my dad, otherwise a healthy 70-year-old, contracted a severe virus that took him in 48 hours from mild cold-like symptoms to a raging fever and a racing heartbeat. Concerned about brain damage, the doctor held up a ballpoint pen in front of my dad and asked him if he could identify it. Dad struggled and he glanced at me for a hint. He couldn’t come up with the word “pen.” The doctor left the room. Dad was worried but unable to express his thoughts, any thoughts. In an effort to restore his confidence and calm his nerves, I took his hand and said to him, “Daddy, you went to Alabama, so who do you most want to beat?” Dad replied without hesitation: “That’d be Auburn.” Those would be Dad’s last words.
By the time I returned early the next morning, his temperature was over 104. Doctors and nurses were scrambling about, barking orders and applying ice to his body. Dad’s big barrel chest was heaving and panting. His deep blue eyes were glassy, darting around the hospital room, as if to ask (because he could not speak), “What’s happening to me?” Our eyes met and then he suffered a seizure. He spent the next five weeks in a “permanent vegetative state,” before he called it a day. Roll Tide.
The Dutch Reach is for saving bicyclists by forcing the occupants of a vehicle to look over their shoulder as they open the roadside door.
"As the name indicates, the ‘Dutch Reach’ originates from the Netherlands. It is a safety method encouraging vehicle drivers or passengers to open the door using their hand on the opposite side to the door they are opening. For example, using your left hand to open a door on your right-hand side."
Based on my experience in the Netherlands, the bike lanes are so well separated from the traffic lanes that I did not know that the Dutch Reach would be necessary. I must have seen too small a sample of the bike lanes (Leiden, Delft, The Hague and Amsterdam) to form an accurate impression.
Pet peeve - Please stop referring to the “Edinburgh Fringe Festival”! It isn’t called that and never has been. What does it even mean? A festival of fringes? There’s the main festival (Opera, military marches up and down and round and about etc.), and the one that grew up on the fringe of of it. Hence the “Edinburgh Festival fringe” - OK rant over, I feel better now. Thanks.
Re the Meat Poll. The fourth choice should have been, "Sure, as long as the one ordering is under 10 years old." (So emotionally, the Former Guy can order his steak that way.)
Congratulations to Molly. I see no sin in pride for the accomplishments of others. I once worked at the Uniformed Services University (Bethesda) and we offered a masters degree in public health. Good luck to her.
I guess it isn’t surprising that your friends who urinated in the Vatican weren’t shamed by their peers.
Let us consider (for the sake of conversation) that some trend setter gets a well done steak (not with katsup) and likes it. And it is a work of art. But takes more time and work.
It might look like this. But what will the chef do?
https://images.app.goo.gl/64DwcmFtocyySvDh8
Who would want to sell that steak when they can toss a half raw one on a plate in five minutes. And they already charge a good price.
I usually go for medium. My wife likes closer to well done, but eats what I cook which is closer to rare. And the flavor is good.
But to say well done is burned is a bit far to go. No black burns on my meals. Just what the George Foreman grill produces. With some soy sauce on it and sometimes a bit of olive oil
We ought to line up support and have a go at it. It may keep the pot busy.
Do I see a cook-off in the Gene Pool's future?
Not now. Perhaps in the past.