Matt and I decided that this week we will cook all new recipes (with the exception of
Pioneer Woman's Cajun Chicken Pasta, which is on the menu for tonight). We have all of these cookbooks, see, and it is just too easy to make the same things over and over again (Even if they are delicious. I'm talking about you,
Red Pepper Chicken).
So while Matt did [one of] his fantasy football draft[s] this weekend, I sat in the Lagoon with him and thumbed through the pages of some of our cookbooks. We put together a little menu for ourselves, and headed to Publix (with every single slow and in-the-way person in Savannah--I thought I was going to start running people over with my cart).*
First up was last night's Guinness Steak.
You should know that Matt has a love/hate relationship with Guinness. Love, because, well, it's beer. Hate, because right after we left JMU, he and his family took a trip to Ireland. They were in Dublin visiting the Guinness brewery at St. James Gate. The brewery was on the way to the hotel, so instead of first going to the hotel to drop off their things, they went straight to the brewery. The neighborhood didn't seem so shifty, so they parked on the street. A fine young chap offered to watch their car, but they declined, opting instead to trust the good-natured Irishmen. That was a decision that they quickly came to regret, when they left the brewery armed only with their gift shop t-shirts and the clothes on their backs, and found their car--broken into, empty. Everything, gone. The police tried to help out by giving them even more Guinness apparel. Obviously, that ill-fated side trip ended up putting a damper on the family trip to Ireland. Now, though, Matt's family can dress a small country with the amount of Guinness clothing they own. **
Back to the steak. This is actually one I saw on another blog,
The Way the Cookie Crumbles, and emailed to Matt just a few days ago. It was easy to make, used common, easy-to-find ingredients, and was really, really good. We had it with Matt's famous grilled onions and parmesan polenta (also a first. . .mmmmmmm). We both agreed that Guinness Steak goes in the "make again" column.
(We didn't eat the dog; I just can't resist it when he, as Opal put it, "sits on the couch like a person.")
Guinness Steak (The Way the Cookie Crumbles)
Ingredients
2 1⅓-pound flank steaks
1 tablespoon dried oregano
2 teaspoons ground cumin
Coarse kosher salt
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
1¼ cups thinly sliced green onions (about 6)
1 12-ounce bottle Guinness (You'll only need six of those ounces. Drink the other six.)
½ cup Worcestershire sauce***
Directions
1. Using sharp knife, lightly score flank steak about ⅛ inch deep on both sides in a crisscross pattern at ½-inch intervals. Place steak in 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish. Sprinkle steak on both sides with oregano and cumin and generous amount of coarse salt and freshly ground pepper. Drizzle olive oil over both sides of steaks, rubbing oil and spices into meat. Add green onions, beer, and Worcestershire sauce, turning steak several times to coat both sides. Cover and chill at least 3 hours, turning occasionally. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Keep chilled.)
2. Prepare grill (medium-high heat). Brush grill rack lightly with oil. Grill steaks to desired doneness, 4-5 minutes total per side for medium-rare, turning steaks ¼ turn after 1½ minutes to form crisscross grill marks, if desired. Transfer steaks to cutting board; let rest 5 minutes. Thinly slice steaks across grain. Transfer to platter and serve.
*Also, F you, Georgia for not selling beer or wine on Sundays. Your silly rule forced me to make a trip to Kroger this afternoon just for ingredients for meals. While at Kroger, I somehow jammed my pinky toe against the wheel of the cart. Now I have a big blood blister on my toe (and probably rabies), and shoe-wearing is going to be a bitch come morning. I blame you, Georgia, and your asinine laws.
**When Matt returned from Ireland, he and I were talking on the phone. Like a moron, I asked, "Ooh, did everyone there have Irish accents?" Matt explained to me that they really didn't have Irish accents, since they watch so much American TV. He was lying (obviously now), and I bought it. . .completely.
***We used the last of our Worcestershire for this steak. I told Matt we needed Morcestershire. He shook his head, wondering perhaps why he married someone who believed that Irish people don't actually have Irish accents, and who makes such terrible jokes.
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