First things first. Let me get something off my chest. Namely, the views I enjoyed the past week.
View #1, to the right from the condo where we stayed in Dana Point, CA.
View #4, to the left.
Whew. It was a rough couple of days.
Now - onto a favorite staple in our house during the warm summer months. Grilled steak. My favorite cut is the coveted tenderloin, primarily due to the tender, melt-in-your mouth, butter consistency of a good, prime, lean cut of beef, but a very close second has to be the beautifully marbled rib eye. Rib eyes are best when simply grilled over a very hot fire - as hot as you can get it - to char the outside with a deliberate crusty outer core, then cooked to medium rare perfection over indirect heat so as to not burn the outside.
My friend Carrie makes a killer gorgonzola cream sauce to top the delectably cooked rib eye, and my favorite campfire ribeye sauce is Bobby Flay's twist - top the rested cut of beef with a schmear of herbed goat cheese, then a simple Meyer lemon honey mustard sauce. Devour over a bed of greens while soaking in views of Echo Lake. I'm now officially ready for the ice to melt so we can start some cabin campfire dining!
Mr. Musky visited his parents several weeks ago to check out their new digs, and he fired up their shiny new outdoor grill. They asked for a repeat performance when we visited last week.
I cook a lot in the winter months, but Mr. Musky takes over all protein-laden preparation and execution once the weather warms up. He loves grilling, whether it's smoking on the Green Egg all day, roasting over charcoal, whipping up a weeknight meal on gas or experimenting over the firepit at the cabin. I usually prepare the side dishes indoors, but this time, my lovely mother-in-law mixed us up a fresh salad, some fruit and a potato dish to accompany our steaks. Meanwhile, I milked the last few days of vacation.
Can I just pause to say how lovely is it to dine alfresco in 80 degrees in March while watching your son practice chip shots, barefoot, on the fifth hole? I'd like to go back. Now.
It's just about as much fun as watching your husband and his father cook together. Or, at least, your father-in-law providing unsolicited advice to his son, but secretly loving that he does no work and he's passed it on to the next generation.