Ugh. I know. It looks like a cholesterol nightmare. Good thing I'd just been to the doctor the week before, and she gave me a clean bill of health. I suppose this made my arteries feel a little daring? Perhaps my cholesterol levels were feeling a bit invincible? Truth be told, it's neither the fault of my arteries or my cholesterol. It was utterly and completely the fault of Minetta Tavern. Delicious bastards.
See, what had happened was, I was minding my own business one night, when a friend and I innocently sauntered up the bar at Minetta, with every intention of ordering and finishing the cote de beouf for two, along with a bottle of red wine, and the forearm-sized piece of bone marrow that came with it. Unfortunately, we made the mistake of ordering an appetizer. This was a stupid idea. A very stupid idea. No one in their right mind needs an appetizer before they eat two pounds of meat. Unless that appetizer comes with a two for one coupon for an aortic flush.
Needless to say, we couldn't make it through the whole cote de beouf. Tender and juicy and melt in your mouth and make you say HELLS YEAH, as it was, we were utterly defeated by it's size and prowess. But I'm not a girl who easily accepts defeat. I'm also not a girl who's afraid to carry around a doggie bag while she finishes up her night.
And so it was that there was cote de beouf for breakfast the next day. That is also how I managed to have ribeye on the brain for quite some time. So much so, that on a nasty rainy night, I thought I'd try my hand at cooking that luscious, delicious, perfectly marbled goodness myself. I must say...I was nervous. And this is not an emotion I'm very familiar with.
Perfectly pink goodness. Mmmmmm. Is "butter it" a rule? Because it should be.
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