Go to the goddamn grocery and get steak. Yes, the grocery. A little
ammonia is not going to kill you, you pussy. You want to be all fancy
and grass-fed and environmentally conscious, go ahead, I don’t give a
shit, just get a fucking steak. Ribeye is good. And, yes, bone-in.
Schmuck. Take the steak home. Get a bigass frying pan and put the shit
on the stove, cranking the heat up as far as that fucker will go. Take
a shitload of salt—rocksalt, you dumb motherfucker, none of that
fine-grained crap here—and toss it around the bottom of the pan.
When the pan is hot as all fuck—it should scorch the shit out of your
finger if you’re stupid enough to touch it—put the fucking steak on
there. You can crack some pepper on the top of the steak as the bottom
is searing, but don’t even talk to me about garlic or onion powder or
COMPOUND FUCKING BUTTER, asshole. This is steak, all you fucking need
is salt and pepper. After a bit (3 minutes for pink, 5 for cooked
good), flip that shit over and do the same fucking thing you just did
with the other side, i.e. sit on your ass and wait for your
motherfucking steak to be ready, you useless assbag. When you’re done,
sling that shit on a plate. Beringer’s 1996 Cabernet Sauvignon Napa
Valley Private Reserve makes an absolutely delightful accompaniment,
particularly if you’ve taken care to let it breathe a bit before
quaffing. Also, make some fucking potatoes, because that’s what you eat
with a fucking steak. God, sometimes I just want to smack the shit out
I have to go get some of that wine now. Dad comes down for dinner every once in a while and he’s the reason I was raised on red meat at every meal.