Finally, I was brave enough to get the perfect sear on our ribeye steaks. I heated my cast iron skillet until it was smoking hot, brushed the bottom with a sliver of butter, and slipped in our grassfed friends.
In two seconds the whole house looked like a Halloween haunted house--fog machines in full effect. And not one smoke alarm went off. Nice.
I opened all the windows. When I flipped the switch for the useless, loud kitchen fan, I thought to myself, "When I grow up I'm getting a hood in my kitchen."
I swatted away the smoke so I could actually see the steaks as I flipped them after two minutes. After another two minutes I popped them in a 400 degree oven for 6-8 minutes. They were restaurant quality, but it took me two hours to air out the house.
I was proud of the side too: potatoes, brussel sprouts, carrots, and turnip dressed with olive oil, basil, orgeano, thyme, rosemary, salt and pepper. I baked them for 25 minutes. They were amazing.
For a weeknight meal, I was really proud of myself. But now I'm obsessing over hoods. I thought I had expensive taste, but this is ridiculous. I'm learning quickly if I ever build a kitchen it will cost more than the actual house...