REST, FLUIDS, AND A HONKIN’ THICK STEAK

I was a bit under the weather today. I can usually tell when that ol’ Upper Respiratory Thing is coming on, and I’ve had ample warning over the last few days. Today it was bad enough for me to blow off both going to minyan and going to the office. At least this gave me a chance to spend a few minutes with the Mistress of Sarcasm, who had driven up from Savannah to catch a concert in town. She was planning to head back before noon, so if I had followed my usual routine, I’d have missed her.

When I get like this, there are a few preventative / palliative measures I can take. First, I’ll load up on ComaQuil™ before going to bed. That shit’s guaranteed to render me pleasantly unconscious, at least enough so I can sleep though the night. It has just enough decongestant effect to keep me from sending She Who Must Be Obeyed screaming out of the bedroom from my snoring. And I wake up with a little bit o’ buzz on.

Measure number two: drink plenty of fluids. I had about 3-4 cups of strong coffee, plus a glass of red wine with dinner. Does that count?

Measure number three: Ensure adequate nutrition. I did this by fixing myself a pleasant little meal this evening while She Who Must Be Obeyed attended her evening class across town.

No chicken soup for this boy. Not today, anyway.

I started with a nice handful of white asparagus. Hacked off the lower half-inch, then peeled each thick stalk. I steamed these bad boys in about four inches of boiling water in a slender vertical pot with a mesh basket. Five minutes is all they needed, then out. A little sweet butter (EVOO would have done just fine) and some fleur de sel and bingo: Veggies.

Meanwhile, I had chopped up a shallot and threw it in a small saucepan with a thumb-size chunk of butter. After about five minutes, the shallot was translucent. In went a tablespoon or two of flour. Stir, scrape, stir, scrape. Then, I dumped in a cup of beef stock (normally I have some of my own in the freezer, but I cheated this time and had bought one of those juice boxes of stock). Stirred it up good, then brought it to a gentle boil to reduce.

Meanwhile, I took a pan and shpritzed in a little olive oil spray. The meat, a thick-ass eight-ounce chunk of beef tenderloin, got a coating of fresh pepper on each side. Then, into the hot pan. Sizzle, sizzle, aaahhh.

By now, the stock-and-roux mixture had cooked down to a good, healthy sauce-like consistency. Turned the heat down to low. In went about a tablespoon of cracked peppercorns and a healthy splash of Cognac. Whoa, looks like the meat’s done. Brown, seared crust on the outside, nice and red in the center. Dead solid perfect.

Meat on plate. Sauce on meat. Asparagus on side. Red Merlot in glass. Ass in chair. Knife and fork in hand.

Me in heaven.

For a little while, anyway. Ah-choo! Where’s that freakin’ ComaQuil?