Cows are great aren’t they? I mean, really great. A half-ton of walking buffet with a brain. And yet, so deliciously stupid that you can walk right up to one, kill it TO DEATH and then drag it away and the others won’t get suspicious when you return later on with a bolt gun and a wicked gleam in your eye.
I suppose I should mention at this point that I have never killed a cow. But I would punch a Dolphin. There’s something in their eyes, they’re not to be trusted.
Moving on (probably sensible), then, and the gorgeous bovine beast has been slaughtered, butchered, hung and purchased, and it’s time for it to get in my belly. I’ve got two lovely pieces of fillet but – shock of shocks – tonight, a steak pan fried just ain’t going to be enough. It’s a mad notion, and probably one that’s offensive to the cow that was until recently chewing the cud in a Herefordshire field (and if I should ever find myself in The Restaurant at the End of the Universe I’m sure the main course would regard me with baleful eyes before recommending a different cut of itself, trying to forget the faux pas I’d just made), but sometimes, some-bloody-times I want something to take my steak dinner and elevate it to a thing of ethereal beauty.
I want colour. I want sweet, crisp freshness. I want something salty. I want something that looks impressive but is actually damned easy. I want to feel, at once, like a culinary god and an ordinary Joe. And if you’ve ever wanted to feel like that, then I have three words for you:
Surf and Turf.
I know, I know what you’re thinking – you’re thinking “Now come on, Viking old boy, you’ve been banging on in your first few blogs about big tasty food and this, frankly, is a Beefeater special.” To which I say, yes, you have a point but – as with anything else – with the right ingredients this can be one hell of a tasty, rewarding and inspiring dish. I have a great affinity for it anyway (must be something to do with those Viking roots) – the combination of meat and shellfish is, for me, simply outstanding. The sharp sweetness of the prawn cuts right through the meatiness of the beef. The garlic (as they must be cooked in garlic, these prawns) adds another extra dimension of flavour – we have earthy beef and sweet prawn while marrying the two is a beautiful, rich and buttery garlic sauce. Throw in a big-arsed chunky chip and I swear your Friday nights will never be the same again.
Enough of the titillation then, let’s get cooking. You are going to need STUFF. This week’s stuff is:
Fillet Steak - the turf part, if for some reason you though cows were marine animals. Cut from the tenderloin, which runs along both sides of the spine just under the sirloin, the fillet is the tenderest cut of beef. As a muscle, it isn’t weight bearing, so you get less contractive tissue and therefore the meat is tenderer (thanks, Wikipedia!) While I love a rib-eye or a sirloin, fillet is just melt-in-the-mouth beautiful. It may be a tad more expensive but it’s so, so worth it. Then you'll need:
Prawns – the surf! For this recipe, I used tiger prawns. I wandered up to Borough market and found a fishmonger who charged me £15 for 4. That was a real swallowing of my pride moment, I can tell you. There was a real fight on the fishmonger’s hands to remove the notes from my clenched fist – but he won the day and in the end I’m sort of glad he did. Still, if your budget doesn’t stretch to silly proportions (trust me, mine didn’t), then replace tiger prawns with king prawns and that’ll be a-ok. Again, choose how many you want depending on how many mouths you’re feeding and how hungry you are.
You’ll also need butter. Proper butter, that is. Not margarine, butter. Nice, yellow, artery clogging butter. Yes, fine, if you eat butter in large amounts every day you will have a heart attack. That said, a little once in a while isn’t going to kill you, so get some butter. I chose Lurpak because I’m half Danish and I insist on patriotism when buying dairy produce. Add to your grocery bag 3 cloves of garlic (more or less depending on how garlicky you like things), parsley and as many good, white fluffy potatoes as you need - for these chunky chips, one potato will make four chips.
You’ll also need a pan of water, a griddle pan, a roasting tray, oil, sea salt and cling film.
Firstly, cut a good lump of butter and place in to a bowl. Crush the garlic in there, and throw in a pinch of parsley. Using the backside of a spoon, whip the butter, garlic and parsley together until you have a malleable ball of buttery garlicky goodness. Take most of the mixture and place on to some cling film. Cover, and then using your hands roll the butter in to a sausage shape and put in the fridge. Save the remaining mixture for later on.
For the chips, I basically made roast potatoes. Cut your potatoes in to chunky chips, put them in a pan of water and rinse. Cover with water again and put over a high heat and bring them to the boil. Pre-heat your oven to gas mark 7 (220c), making sure you’ve got a roasting tin in there with a good slug of olive oil to get nice and hot. Once the potatoes have been boiling for five minutes, drain them and sling them around gently in the pan to beat them up a bit. Remove the roasting tin from the oven, add the potatoes (they’ll give good sizzle – give them a good turn so they get a covering of oil) and a generous pinch of sea salt, and then put them back in the oven for 45 minutes, turning once.
Now, prepare the prawns. Release your inner beast and grip the head of the prawn between your thumb and forefinger. It’s a bit gross, but twist the head all the way off. Turn the prawn on to its back and using your thumbs break the shell off, removing the legs and the outer shell. If you like, you can leave the tail on for decoration. Now, turn the prawn right side up again, and you’ll see a little black line running the length of the back. That’s the intestinal tract. It is edible – but it’ll taste gritty and let’s not forget that it’s prawn poo in there. So, using the tip of a small sharp knife, pull it free. The next bit is down to personal preference, but I like to butterfly my prawns. Using a sharp pair of kitchen scissors, cut half way down the prawn from top to tail and then press out using your fingers.
I actually cut the body of the prawn in to two. This is a) because I like the way the two sides curl outwards when they cook and b) because I got carried away and accidentally cut the first prawn in half so, in the interests of continuity, I had to carry on with my ‘vision’. Once you’re done, rinse the prawns in cold water and pat dry with a tea towel. Arrange on a grill pan (I wrapped mine in foil to strop drippage), and then get the remainder of your butter mixture. Spoon on to the prawns, and then set aside – don’t start cooking them yet!
Now, time for the steaks. We all have our little steak secrets, but here’s mine. If you’re using a pan, get it hot. Really hot. Shimmering hot. Don’t put oil in it. In the meantime, give your steak a good grind of pepper (beef loves pepper), and then put the oil on the meat. If you want salt, add at this point – if you put it on the meat directly it will dry it out and that’s not what you want. Then, add the steaks to the pan, and cook at high heat for one minute on each side. Then, turn the heat right down to medium, and cook for a further minute on each side for rare, two for medium rare, three for medium and four for well done. You can check how your steak is cooking without cutting it open by doing the hand test.
This time, however, I used a heavy cast iron griddle. Instead of cooking over a high heat, I started and stayed on medium. For that reason, it takes a little longer to cook the steaks, but also, I find, keeps them lovely, tender and juicy despite not sealing the outside in a hot pan. Also, the griddle gives your meat wonderful steak house lines, which I think look great.
Resting is the key for steak. Rare steaks should be rested for 6-8 minutes, medium-rare for 5, medium for 4 and well done for 1.
Depending on the cooking and resting time of your steak, you need to time when to put your prawns on. So, turn on your grill and be ready. Prawns will take a maximum (if using tiger prawn like I did) of 6-8 minutes. So, if you’re having a rare steak, don’t put your prawns on until you’ve removed your steaks from the pan. You’re intelligent people, you can work it out, I’m sure! A prawn is cooked when the flesh is white and the outside has turned a nice pink colour.
You’ll know when they’re cooked – they look like you expect them to look, if you see what I mean – and they’re entirely different from how they look when they’re raw.
To serve:
Then, on a heated plate, arrange your chips in a stack of six, two by two. Place the steak to one side and garnish with your lovely pink prawns. Top your steak with the round of garlic butter, and serve. You don’t need any other condiments with this, unless you want to add a garlic mayonnaise to dip your chips in. And why not, eh?
It’s amazing how just adding a couple of prawns to such a simple thing as steak n’ chips can elevate it to being something very special indeed. Eat with a long, cold lager in front of your favourite movie with the people that you love. If there’s anything that is as soulful, replenishing and fun as eating non fussy food with friends, then I don’t know what it is.
So get on the phone, get your friends over, and make them a Surf and Turf as prescribed by The Viking. Let me know how you get on!
Right, I’m definitely going this time. I’ll be back next week, and until then, happy eating!
look at those chips man!
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