How to cook the perfect steak at home

Consensus is difficult because ‘perfection’ is subjective, but food critic John Lethlean has some secrets to share.

Want to know how to cook the perfect steak at home? You’ve come to the right place. Read on below... Picture: Tony Gough

I’ve been trying to lose weight. Again. Some would describe the past few months as a historically futile juncture in which to attempt dieting but, like greatness, the challenge was thrust upon me: I asked my doctor why I was gaining weight on only one side of my lower torso (groin) and he said, “Don’t be stupid, you have an inguinal hernia. You’ll need to lose weight; elective surgery is on hold.” Damn virus.

There have been a lot of 8/16 days – that is, 16 hours’ fasting in every 24 – which means I’m more unpleasant than usual until the first bite of the day, at noon. There’s been a lot of protein/veg. And look, it’s worked, to an extent. But I’m sick of dreaming about carbonara and pizza and potatoes, and pizza with potatoes, or that wonderful buckwheat pasta dish they do in Alpine Italy with taleggio and potatoes.

And there have been a lot of steaks. Steaks with salad; steaks with roasted vegetables. Steaks with steaks. Cheap steaks and pricey ones. Good thing I like grilled beef: sirloin, porterhouse, T-bone, rib eye; rump, at a pinch. Which made me wonder: does a reformed smoker ever stop craving cigarettes? Does someone who’s been a drinker lose the desire for a gin and tonic? Does an omnivore who’s given up meat lose the lust, the carnal desire, for a great steak?

While my meat consumption, typically, is about half what it was 10 years ago – there is virtually no pork in my life, chicken either – I still regularly crave, and enjoy, beef steaks. It’s something a lot of people agree on.

Consensus is difficult on how to achieve the perfect steak at home, because “perfection” is subjective. The all-time great steaks of my life have all been cooked over wood coals, charcoal or a combination of the two – in restaurants. Having persisted for five years, I’ve reached the conclusion that charcoal grilling at home is just too hard unless you’re entertaining (I mean people are coming round, not that you’re amusing). It’s time-consuming, expensive, good charcoal is difficult to source and cleaning a charcoal grill/barbecue is a pain in the rump. Or is that top-side? Most gas barbecues can’t get hot enough to achieve a decent crust. Personal preference.

So I’m now a very-bloody-hot- cast-iron-skillet bloke; get the colour you want on the outside and use a meat thermometer for done-ness: 50C for rare, 55 medium rare and anything beyond is overcooked.

For what it’s worth, here is some advice. Buy good meat, aged if possible. One thick piece is much, much better than two less-so (you’ll get a great crust without overcooking the insides). A 500g steak for two is ideal (or a small, thick 250g steak for one).

John’s tip: buy good meat, aged if possible. One thick piece is much, much better than two less-so.

Age it in the fridge, uncovered, for a few days. Pat it very dry with kitchen paper and allow it to come to room temp. Salt heavily, but don’t pepper. Oil your wickedly hot pan, not the steak. Max out your extractor. Sear one side of the steak for at least two minutes, sear the fat cap edge for about 30 seconds and then the other side for another two minutes. Turn, add a knob of butter, some thyme, some black pepper and a crushed garlic clove and baste (for the aforementioned 500g steak, at least another two minutes). Turn and continue basting for another two minutes before checking the internal temp.

Keep the heat flat out; I doubt you’re there yet. Keep basting, keep turning and keep monitoring the thermometer: when you get to that subjective point between 50-55C, remove to a trivet/rack and rest for 10 minutes. Please.

Some like to slice a steak before serving; personally, I prefer a whole piece I can slice myself. Quality steak knives, like the Perceval 9.47, are ridiculously expensive and worth every cent: you should slice your meat like sashimi, not tear it with serrated blades.

So try it. Tell me I’m not right. If the kilos don’t fall off, at least you’ll have had a great dinner.

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