There are two things that my Dad and I always used to make together when I was little: French dressing and gravy. We used to have a roast most Sundays and I would often stand on a chair next to the hob scraping away at the roasting tin adding a bit of water, wine, Lea and Perrins and redcurrant jelly; sometimes even a bit of Bisto, never flour. The tasting was always quite a ritual, it still is on high days and holidays when I’m back at home. Teaspoons out, a lot of umming and ahhing over the final squeeze of lemon. I know my gravy.
I also know my Bisto. I remember very clearly one occasion when I was helping my Aunt make gravy at my Granny’s house. I must have been pretty small as I was sitting on the edge of the Aga. As I shook the salt into the pan, the lid of the cellar fell off and the whole contents of it poured out into the gravy. My Aunt was very chilled, calmly took the Bisto, Marmite, redcurrant jelly and Lea and Perrins from the cupboard and made the gravy. The Bisto saved the day.
Last night, HB, a couple of friends and I went to Santa Maria del Sur on Queenstown Road. An Argentinean steak joint where everything is cooked over coals, they have a rather fabulous contraption where the chef can move the grill up and down over the burning embers to regulate the heat. My advice would be, if you don’t eat meat, don’t go. The whole place smells like barbecuing beef, it’s buzzy and atmospheric, lots of men eating beef and drinking Malbec. We all had very good cocktails to begin with. The Caipirinha was as lethal as it should be, as was the Pisco Sour; unfortunately HB’s masculine choice of a Cosmopolitan wasn’t strong enough. We had a slightly random little selection of Argentinean tapas alongside the drinks. Very thick salami was good and spicy chorizo delicious. There was also a bit of what seemed like chopped up veal Milanese and 3 chips on the plate which seemed slightly strange as if they were using up the leftovers from the night before. I’m a stickler for good bread as I will never understand why a place like that doesn’t get a delivery from a bakery each day. The bread rolls that came with some stilton butter (not my bag but others liked it) had obviously been taken out of the freezer 15 minutes before and shoved in the oven.
I’m not one to talk as HB can cook steak much better than I can but I do think when you go to a steak joint, they should be able to cook the steak in the way that you ask. In my book ‘medium rare’ means pink and juicy, ‘rare’ means bloody and ‘blue’ means seared and cold in the middle. The last time I went to Santa Maria Del Sur, I asked for my steak ‘medium rare’ and it was ‘blue’. This time I asked for it ‘medium’ and it was ‘very rare’. The meat was of really good quality and fillet so it didn’t really matter but on a cold plate (that drives me mad!) and at £25.00 before you’ve paid for the chips or sauce, it was a bit irritating. The garlic and herb chips were excellent as was the roasted pepper with pesto but it all would have been far superior on a warm plate. The mushroom sauce I ordered was Bisto or similar with a few button mushrooms floating around in it. Perhaps the chef had an accident with the salt cellar. As I said, I know my gravy.
This place has been raved about by many people including Gordon Ramsay and lots of my friends and it is a fun place to go. The steak is excellent quality, it’s just the cooking of it that lets them down and the cold plates! Perhaps I have just been unlucky both times I’ve been.
Milly Bag 