Pre-Dinner Snack Goes Well

I feel glorious. Why? Because I just ate a prime dry-aged, two-and-a-quarter-inch, two-plus-pound, bone-in ribeye steak. With garlic butter and a huge baked potato soaked in butter and sour cream.

God help me. That was better than sex. Even the sex people who are actually good in bed have.

I know that was a great piece of meat, because for once I wanted the steak more than the potato.

It had been so long since I had eaten aged beef, I had forgotten what the point was. NOW I remember.

Here is the story. I aged it 3 days at 37 degrees, as you know if you've been paying attention. The meat didn't get rotten enough to require trimming. There was no discoloration or mold. But I noticed it had a faint off smell when I took it out of the freezer.

After half an hour on the propane griddle (you try cooking a steak that thick some day), the funk turned into perfume. I felt like standing by the griddle and turning with my arms up, to get the scent into my shirt so I would smell great for the rest of the day.

JimK says he now hates me because he can't find a decent butcher. Neither can I, Jim! Take heart! The butcher didn't work this miracle. The germs did. All the butcher did was give me a prime-beef rib roast. The aging is what made it divine.

I don't recommend that any of you try this. For all I know, I may be having my stomach pumped later on. Of course, that would be okay, because it would make room for more steak.

That was unquestionably the best steak I have ever had. And I've been to Morton's, Gallagher's, Ruth's Chris, Smith & Wollensky, Peter Luger, and the steakhouse at Circus Circus. I've also been to local hotspots like Shula's and Christy's and the Capitol Grille. Nobody comes close. I've had prime rib that was as good. But never a steak.

I don't know why people age meat for three weeks. Three days were plenty.

Here's something else. I finally figured out how to beat the doneness problem. I've had a hell of a time guessing when my steaks were done. I found a Food Network page that listed internal temperatures for "medium," "well," and so on. And I got out my digital thermometer and tried it.

After a while, I got nervous and pulled the steak off the griddle. The chart said 130 was medium-rare, but the steak was looking scary at 122. And wouldn't you know it? I was right. At 122, it was a pretty standard medium.

What does that tell me? It tells me the guys at the Food Network are pussies who are afraid of being sued. Don't trust them. But DO get your own digital and find the temperature that makes you happy and stick with it. Put the tip of the probe in the exact center of the steak. That will surely be much better than those ridiculous LED idiot-light probes.

Oh, God. I am in ecstasy.

You have to try this. With the understanding that you may die the same day from food poisoning. It's worth it. After all, what's the name of my book?

How I love my propane griddle. I will never ruin a steak over gas or charcoal or an electric element again.

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Oh, hey. Here's another thing. I realized tonight why the beef fat I render from supermarket scraps smells and tastes like prime rib. It's because it's rancid. Not totally, but enough to age it. So if you use beef fat to fry stuff, make sure it has started to get slightly high.

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I paid $12.50 per pound for this stuff, which is really cheap for prime. The alternative was to go to Pastacheese.com, which ships dry-aged beef for excellent prices. Not $12.50 a pound, but still.

I haven't tried their beef, but they get good feedback on Amazon.