Rib Eye Steak Recipe AARP The Magazine
Rib Eye Steak Recipe - AARP The Magazine Cooking
Salt and pepper
Canola oil
1 shallot, minced
1 tablespoon rosemary, minced
1/4 cup red wine
2 tablespoons butter 1. Salt and pepper both sides of the steak. 2. Pour canola oil 1/8-inch deep into a heavy skillet. Heat on high until the oil begins smoking. 3. Sear the steak for about 2 minutes on each side. Reduce the heat to medium, then cook for another 3 minutes on each side. Remove the steak from the pan. 4. Add the shallot and rosemary to the pan. Once the shallot softens, add the red wine and, with a spatula, scrape up any browned bits. 5. Remove the pan from the heat and add the butter. Whisk until incorporated, pour over the steak, and serve warm. Nutrients per serving: 1,220 calories, 87g protein, 7g carbohydrates, 1g fiber, 87g fat (36g saturated fat), 469mg cholesterol, 2,699mg sodium Every calamity, they say, presents an opportunity. In my case, the catastrophe came on a winter's night, when my 68-year-old father let go of the handholds 25 feet up on an artificial rock-climbing wall. He'd taught me to climb as a teenager, and we had scaled sky-high summits together under a blue Sierra Nevada sky. But then we drifted apart: I got married, had kids, and took up cooking; my father kept climbing, spending days on Yosemite's El Capitan. Here's how the accident happened: My father tied the climbing rope not to his harness but to his leather pants belt. When he let go of the wall, the rope ripped through his belt and he fell, fracturing two vertebrae. And here's the opportunity it presented: first, to spend all those days at my father's bedside in the hospital; and then, more important, to cook his very first meal back home. My father needed to feel like a man again, not a sick, weak patient. So I made him a dish I thought might help — a giant rib-eye steak topped with a little maître d'hôtel butter. The hours we spent in the hospital, talking about all the good times gone by, may ultimately have been more significant in bringing us back together. Yet only by cooking that steak — and watching the look of satisfaction cross his face — could the man I'd become help the man my father had always been.
A Steak for Dad
A big ol' rib-eye bridges the gap between a father and son
Recipe Rib-Eye for Dad
Serves 1 1 rib-eye steak, (about 1 1/4 pounds)Salt and pepper
Canola oil
1 shallot, minced
1 tablespoon rosemary, minced
1/4 cup red wine
2 tablespoons butter 1. Salt and pepper both sides of the steak. 2. Pour canola oil 1/8-inch deep into a heavy skillet. Heat on high until the oil begins smoking. 3. Sear the steak for about 2 minutes on each side. Reduce the heat to medium, then cook for another 3 minutes on each side. Remove the steak from the pan. 4. Add the shallot and rosemary to the pan. Once the shallot softens, add the red wine and, with a spatula, scrape up any browned bits. 5. Remove the pan from the heat and add the butter. Whisk until incorporated, pour over the steak, and serve warm. Nutrients per serving: 1,220 calories, 87g protein, 7g carbohydrates, 1g fiber, 87g fat (36g saturated fat), 469mg cholesterol, 2,699mg sodium Every calamity, they say, presents an opportunity. In my case, the catastrophe came on a winter's night, when my 68-year-old father let go of the handholds 25 feet up on an artificial rock-climbing wall. He'd taught me to climb as a teenager, and we had scaled sky-high summits together under a blue Sierra Nevada sky. But then we drifted apart: I got married, had kids, and took up cooking; my father kept climbing, spending days on Yosemite's El Capitan. Here's how the accident happened: My father tied the climbing rope not to his harness but to his leather pants belt. When he let go of the wall, the rope ripped through his belt and he fell, fracturing two vertebrae. And here's the opportunity it presented: first, to spend all those days at my father's bedside in the hospital; and then, more important, to cook his very first meal back home. My father needed to feel like a man again, not a sick, weak patient. So I made him a dish I thought might help — a giant rib-eye steak topped with a little maître d'hôtel butter. The hours we spent in the hospital, talking about all the good times gone by, may ultimately have been more significant in bringing us back together. Yet only by cooking that steak — and watching the look of satisfaction cross his face — could the man I'd become help the man my father had always been.