Monday 27th June 2011
One of the best steaks I’ve ever had #3.
I can’t resist buying steak when we go to France. They cost about 6 euros a pop, which is quite a slash out, but they are totally worth it.
Dad used to work in the print room of the Daily Telegraph newspaper in Fleet Street, London. It was based in a huge art deco building that has since been sold and turned into office space. When I was about 7 years old he took me to work with him. Newspapers are usually printed at night but for some reason he was on the early shift and so could take me with him. The printing room was noisy & hot. There was a slight fog of ink in the air. For a 7 year old everything was enormous, the machines, the wrenches, the rolls of paper and even the huge burly ink-covered men with hairy forearms were gigantic.
At break time Dad took me to the canteen. In my memory it was on the top floor but I’ll have to check that with Dad. Two ladies with hairnets served up hearty meals for growing men. Of course they made a big fuss of me as they loaded up my plate. Dad ordered me a T-bone steak. I remember one of the women asking;
“D’you want beans with that dear?”
I had no choice in the matter. My plate was already swimming in them. Dad & I walked to a formica table. Dad with his thumb in the bean juice dripping down the side of my plate and me with two hands wrapped around a bowl of spotted dick & custard.
I don’t remember eating the steak, just the size of the beast. It covered most of the plate. I guess, it ain’t always what you eat, it’s where you eat it.
Zephy’s verdict on our steaks;
“Good but more sauce next time.”
Ah, you gotta love him.