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More steak

It’s still steak.

Thanks to blog archives, I realize KK’s obsession with cow meat truly stands  the test of time. 

Five years later, he wants to up his steak game, and invests in more steak paraphernalia.

The girls very excitedly crowd around me when I came back from rehearsal one day: “Mama, Papa bought a XX which costs $Y!” To which KK cuts in, “No lah it was discounted”.

It doesn’t matter, really, he can spend his money however he wants. The reason I softly sigh is because I have to store these things.

And I know I won’t use them.

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What would I do with a sexy chopping board, heavy cast-iron pan which would strain my violin-playing wrist, and why the hell would I want to go through the hassle of carefully pouring olive oil from the glass bottle it already comes in, into another albeit prettier one?

I think the impetus was after we ate steak from a rather nice little coffeeshop restaurant out in the Pandan Gardens boondocks, right after trampolining. Part of a HDB block, its steaks, ribs and accompanying sides would inspire KK to drive 25km out, and I think he wanted to cook his own steaks again.

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* Ministry of Ribs

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* Its steak

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* Its ribs

When he does cook steak, by the way, there are no sides. No veg, no carbs. Dinner is just two thick slabs of beef, three if I'm around. (If I'm around, I also make sure there are sides)

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Anyway.

Besides the cast-iron pan (which I burn a salmon in so obviously I really cannot make it), what’s new this time around is that he wants to make sauces to dress up his steaks.

Yes, sauces.

Our steaks never had sauces. Just butter, maybe.

He’s now into manufacturing his own sauces from scratch. Eccentric blended concoctions of peppers and parsley and garlic, or cream and stock and crushed black peppers.

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* Green peppers, parsley, garlic, lemon, salt... I think. Nice but slightly too parsley-ish

I mutter: why can’t you be obsessed with steamed fish?

(which is about 10 times healthier, cleaner for the kitchen and cheaper. I don’t know how to steam fish)

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* KK's steaks, always medium and a bit bloody (the way we all like it)
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