Why Cows Are Bastards

Steak: It's basically death on a plate

Serves one, but knowing you, you'll probably be hungry a couple of hours later and filling you face with biscuits.

Ingredients:

1 Lean Steak
½ large onion

2 or 3 really large mushrooms
1 tbsp oil
More salt that you think is healthy

Those of us who eat beef should definitely eat less before the cows fart us all to kingdom come with their methane. They'll cause a global catastrophe if we don't stop them, but the worst part is they don't even care. A cow once looked me in the eye on a country lane, really stared at me, then deliberately brushed off my wing mirror with its flank as it walked on. Make no mistake, cows are complete bastards.

Steak. Lovely, juicy steak, oozing with artery-blocking goodness. Eat too much and it'll give you a slow, lingering death. But let's just forget all that and get stuck in. Anything less and this animal died for nothing. Meat is murder, and we have part of a body to lose.

Start by putting a frying pan on a medium heat and add the oil. Use the old pan. The one that doesn't quite fit into the sink. Your irritation at awkwardly washing it later will be another step on your journey to finally throwing it away. You might also want to take a long look at your underwear drawer because that motley collection of ageing rags hasn't sparked joy in anyone for a very long time. 

But not now because before you start trying to get into that onion with a bread knife like a demented joiner, we need to talk about contraception.

There seem to be as many methods of clearing up when Mr Onion spews his stink everywhere as there are Google results addressing his perverted pleasures. These range from the scientific (“The smell is sulphur-based, so rubbing something stainless steel against your skin will shift it”) to the batshit (“Vigorously rub salt into your skin”). But what if you're picking your nose late at night and suddenly get a strong wiff of allium beastliness from under a fingernail?

Much like a drunken fumble on a coach trip to Margate leading to a course of antibiotics, the best  solution to the problem of onions is the barrier method. Get a box of cheap, disposable gloves from a DIY store, and you may pick you nose, or that of a loved one, in complete olfactory safety after handling onions.

When I say “really large mushrooms” I mean it. Get the ones they sell in the packet of three. Cut the mushrooms into strips then cut the strips in half. Add them to the pan and fry them. They'll soak up the oil and go dry, but this is a ruse to get you to add more oil. Wait a couple of minutes and the mushrooms will panic and begin to sweat. Fry until they go black with impotent rage at their failed subterfuge.

Cut the onion in half and show it you mean business by dropping one half directly into the bin. Chop the other into thin half rings and drop these into the pan to fry until they go golden and floppy. Realise too late that you were supposed to take the dry, brown outer layers off first. 

While waiting for the onions to stop screaming, salt the steak by rubbing several large pinches into both sides of the dead meat. Yes, salt. We're already through the looking glass health-wise with the streak, so a bit of salt won't matter. Besides, it's what brings out the flavour of the meat. Don't go daft with expensive sea salt from the Moon or somewhere, either. Unless you're an analytical chemist, table salt is the same as all the damned rest.

Once dead, tip the onions and mushrooms onto a small plate and turn the heat up to maximum under the pan.

Open and start the stopwatch on your £400 smartphone because you STILL haven't spent £2.50 on a digital kitchen timer off eBay.

Sear the steak on both sides for 1 minute. This means putting up with more screams and spitting than a neo-Nazi on a march, but it'll be worth it. 

Once seared, turn heat down to just under half, take the batteries out of your smoke alarm, and keep turning the steak every so often. When it starts smoking, pull the pan off the heat until it stops, but keep turning the meat all the time. 

How do you know the steak is done? After around 4 minutes, get a fork and a piece of kitchen roll. Who am I kidding? Get some toilet roll. Push the fork into the steak and soak up the resultant juices. Are they boody? Does it disturb you? No? Then it's done. Repeat this test until the colour makes you feel sufficiently confident that you're a good person. You are still a monster, though, and that's nothing to be proud of. 

Before smothering the steak in the mushrooms and onions, check to see if they're still hot. If not, microwave them for 20 seconds on full power.

If you feel the need for extra seasoning with this dish, might I suggest you've missed the point. It is all about the meat, not your jaded mouth. Just eat the damned steak.

A typical accompaniment to steak is a decent, heavy Cabernet Sauvignon, or if that's too heavy then try a Tempranillo or a Californian Zinfandel. Failing that, just go with the usual bottle of corner shop piss.

Where did those batteries come from? They don't spark joy, so throw them out.