Full of Love... and Steak

I realize that it's fairly cliche for a young 20-something woman to hate Valentine's day.  Stupid Cupid pub crawls, anti-Valentine's day cards, and pledges to wear all black as a sign of solidarity to all those that share your sentiments are pretty common place.  But, nevertheless, I really dislike it.  I'm not bitter, or alone, I just don't like big, hyped up holidays that make you feel pressured into being sweet and romantic to the one that you're probably already being sweet and romantic to.  And if you're not, then you should be sweet and romantic every day, not just this day.  And another thing!  It's so expensive to go out in the city anyway, much less a night when they are charging triple the cost for the same meal that you would get on, say, February 15.  For this very reason, I told K not to get me anything, that this was not a trap or a test, and that we would stay in. 

And, because I was being sweet and romantic, and because the one I was being sweet and romantic to loves steak, I pledged to try my hand at a steak dinner.  We never really had steak growing up and my memories of steak at restaurants are rubbery, fatty, bleeding or burnt.  Not appetizing.  But I think I can't call myself a cook until I can make a steak, so I did it.  I made steak.  Beefy, decadent steak.

We bought two New York Strips because they were fairly priced and looked pretty good, and I did an inordinate amount of research on how to cook steaks, and then set myself to the task.  I made a Divine, delicious, would-eat-it-on-shoe-leather onion and blue cheese sauce that I found on http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/ to accompany the steak, and some very simple green beans dressed with olive oil, salt, and pepper.



I can't really say enough about the sauce.  Because I'm still speechless.  It was the best, most flavorful, rich, oh-my-gosh sauce ever and if you don't follow that link up there and make it immediately, I don't think we can be friends anymore.

To make the steaks I let them come to room temperature, a tip that my friend J.R. gave me.  Then I melted 1/2 a stick of butter in a large, hot skillet, seasoned each side of the steak with salt and pepper, and seared until both sides got a nice brown color.  Then, because my pan wasn't oven proof and therefore could not be broiled, I lowered the heat and cooked the steaks a little bit more, because I prefer my beef to not moo at me.  I took them off the heat way before my instincts told me to and let them rest for a couple of minutes. 

I served the steaks on a cloud of the-best-sauce-ever and served green beans on the side.  The beans were blanched, then sauteed in a little olive oil and salt and pepper.  They were simple and the perfect side for such a rich dish.

The point of this post is not to talk about steak.  Or Valentine's day even.  I guess my point is, friends, I was wrong.  And I hate, hate, HATE being wrong.  But we had a lovely dinner! We listened to some sappy music, drank some delicious Italian wine, and talked and talked.  The experience changed my mind not only on the merits of Valentine's Day, but now, I like steak!  I think the latter is the most impressive.  I really hated steak.

And look at my pretty white plates! 

For dessert I made a chocolate cake, but it was so delicious and so sinful that it deserves it's own dedicated post.  Stay tuned.

Happy Valentine's Day loves.  Go hug someone!