Cooking with Alton
It all began when Stephanie got a hankering for steak. We contemplated for about 30 seconds going out, then I remembered that I had a huge beef tenderloin in my fridge that my mom had given me. She said it was easy, I told her. Just cut it into three portions, and you end up with a few little filets, a small roast, and flank-like steaks for sandwiches. I called my mom to make sure: yep, easy, and I could even go online and watch Alton Brown from Good Eats cut it apart.
So, Steph and I took out the meat, drained and rinsed it (the red juice, Alton assured us, was not blood, but some type of protein enzyme...but of course, it looked like blood to our gag reflexes), and were ready to cut our steaks. We pulled open the computer and propped it on the counter, so we could join Alton in what he disguistingly refers to as "surgery."
Little did we know what we had gotten ourselves into. The process began with pulling off the outer membrane. Yes, that's right. A thin, slippery membrane that actually didn't want to pulled off at all, but instead wanted to stay right where it was. After some tugging and pulling, I got most of it off.
The next step was slicing off the silver skin. Silver what? At this point, we're thinking my mom must have been playing a joke on us. Perhaps having a better knife would have helped, but once again, the silver skin wanted to stay attached! After more cutting, tugging, and pulling, we got that off, as well.
One hour into the ordeal, and we finally had the piece of meat we thought we were going to have to begin with. We cut the three portions, made our four little steaks, and put the rest aside for later cooking. After a quick trip to the grocery store, we busied ourselves for the next couple of hours making sides. Three hours later (we thought this was going to be a quick meal), we sat down to a tasty dinner, feeling quite proud of our butchering accomplishments. It's always good to know of other careers we could pursue in case our current ones don't work out.
So, Steph and I took out the meat, drained and rinsed it (the red juice, Alton assured us, was not blood, but some type of protein enzyme...but of course, it looked like blood to our gag reflexes), and were ready to cut our steaks. We pulled open the computer and propped it on the counter, so we could join Alton in what he disguistingly refers to as "surgery."
Little did we know what we had gotten ourselves into. The process began with pulling off the outer membrane. Yes, that's right. A thin, slippery membrane that actually didn't want to pulled off at all, but instead wanted to stay right where it was. After some tugging and pulling, I got most of it off.
The next step was slicing off the silver skin. Silver what? At this point, we're thinking my mom must have been playing a joke on us. Perhaps having a better knife would have helped, but once again, the silver skin wanted to stay attached! After more cutting, tugging, and pulling, we got that off, as well. 
One hour into the ordeal, and we finally had the piece of meat we thought we were going to have to begin with. We cut the three portions, made our four little steaks, and put the rest aside for later cooking. After a quick trip to the grocery store, we busied ourselves for the next couple of hours making sides. Three hours later (we thought this was going to be a quick meal), we sat down to a tasty dinner, feeling quite proud of our butchering accomplishments. It's always good to know of other careers we could pursue in case our current ones don't work out.
Eww... I gag just thinking about silver skin! Thanks for letting me supervise :)
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