Rib-Eye Steak with Sauce Béarnaise
A few months ago, when I first conceived of Sauce Week, I set out to make a dinner for myself that promised to be so outrageously decadent, I'd have to close my blinds before eating the first forkful. The premise was pretty basic--steak and potatoes--with one key difference. I was going to drench the whole thing in that most indulgent of French sauces, a sauce that contains more butter than most people eat in a month, yet a sauce so rich and sultry it's pretty much the height of sophistication and elegance: I'm talking, of course, about Sauce Béarnaise.
I knew how to handle the steak and potatoes. The potatoes, Yukon Golds, were sliced in half or quarters, tossed with olive oil, whole garlic cloves, salt, and pepper on a cookie sheet and then popped into a 425 oven. Every so often, I'd toss them around; until they were crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, for about an hour.
The steak--a rib-eye, purchased from McCall's--would be prepared the way I learned how to do it in this video. Pour a little vegetable oil into a cast iron skillet, crank the heat to high and when it's blazingly hot and the oil is just starting to smoke, take your room temperature steak--which you've coated with lots of salt and coarsely ground pepper--and carefully lay it in. You should hear a loud sizzle. Let it cook on that side for 2 minutes or so, then carefully flip it over (it should be golden brown and beautifully seared; if not, keep cooking), add a pat of butter, a few cloves of garlic (in their skin) and a few sprigs of thyme. Pop the whole thing into a 475 oven and allow the steak to finish, another minute or two, until pressing it in the center yields the same way your hand yields when you make a fist and press the area between your thumb and index finger. That's medium rare.
I make a really good steak but we're not here to talk about the steak. We're here to talk about the sauce. And to make my Sauce Béarnaise, I turned to the only place a sane person would turn to make anything French: Julia Child's Mastering The Art of French Cooking. Her version, the classical version, begins by boiling vinegar, wine, shallots, tarragon, salt and pepper together until reduced to 2 tablespoons.
You beat 3 egg yolks until they're thick:
Then you strain in the vinegar mixture and continue to beat:
Things get tricky here: over low heat (I used a double boiler) you add 1 tablespoon of cold butter, then another tablespoon of cold butter, then 1/2 to 2/3 cups of melted butter by droplets.
Things went swimmingly, at first. Look how gorgeous everything is just as I stirred in the tarragon:
I could've lied to you and stopped the post here and said, "I'm a champ at making Béarnaise!" But the truth is, right at this moment, the sauce broke. Ugly picture alert:
It's actually a pretty devastating thing, especially when you've spent all that time and energy bringing the sauce together. But Julia has a solution: first, try whisking in a tablespoon of cold water. If that doesn't work (and it didn't for me), rinse out a mixing bowl with hot water. Put in a teaspoon of lemon juice (I used vinegar) and a tablespoon of the sauce and whisk them together.
Now beat the rest of the sauce in half a tablespoon at a time, beating until each addition has thickened in the sauce before adding the next. Sayeth Julia: "This always works." And indeed it does:
Pretty magical, right? And this is what I spooned on top of my steak after slicing it against the grain:
That's last meal material, right there. In fact, after finishing, I was pretty sure it was my last meal, I was so full. But it was worth it.
Then, a few days ago, we had Valentine's Day and I decided to recreate this dinner for Craig. This time, I bought a heart-shaped rib-eye from Lindy and Grundy:
I did the potatoes just like before and was gearing up to do the Béarnaise just like before:
When someone turned me on to the technique on Michael Ruhlman's site. It's such a foolproof technique, and so much less stressful than the Julia version (sorry, Julia), it'll now be my go-to technique for Béarnaise. Here's how it works: in a measuring glass? You add your lemon juice, shallots, salt, pepper and 2 egg yolks and give those a buzz with a hand blender. Meanwhile, you melt 6 ounces of salted butter:
When the butter is fully melted and hot, you add it--in a steady stream--to the measuring glass while making your hand blender buzz, adding tarragon halfway through. Look how amazing:
I mean, really. Béarnaise in a manner of seconds. Here it is, served in a ramekin, alongside Friday's steak and potatoes:
Craig was one happy customer, and who wouldn't be? Sauce Béarnaise is the king bee of rich, creamy, classical French sauces; capable of turning a humdrum steak dinner into a black-tie affair. That's the power of sauce.
[I'm going to type up Julia's recipe, but if you want to follow the easier Ruhlman technique, click here.]
Recipe: Julia Child's Sauce Béarnaise
Summary: From Mastering The Art of French Cooking.
Ingredients
- 1/4 cup wine vinegar
- 1/4 cup dry white wine or dry white vermouth
- 1 tablespoon minced shallots or green onions
- 1 tablespoon minced fresh tarragon PLUS 2 tablespoons minced tarragon to finish
- 1/8 teaspoon pepper
- Pinch of salt
- 3 egg yolks
- 2 tablespoons cold butter
- 1/2 to 2/3 cup melted butter
Instructions
- Boil the vinegar, wine, shallots, 1 tablespoon tarragon and seasonings over moderate heat until the liquid has reduced to 2 tablespoons. Let it cool.
- Then proceed as though making a hollandaise. Beat the egg yolks until thick. Strain in the vinegar mixture and beat. Add 1 tablespoon of cold butter and thicken the egg yolks over low heat (I recommend using a double boiler). Beat in the other tablespoon of cold butter, then the melted butter by droplets. Correct seasoning and beat in the tarragon or parsley. Serve immediately.
Preparation time: 10 minute(s)
Cooking time: 10 minute(s)
Number of servings (yield): 4
