
I was reminded of this incident the other day when I was talking to my butcher (not to be confused with my pusher). (Not that I have a pusher.) (I don't.) They had the most beautiful top sirloin on sale at the Apple Market. Not having cooked that much steak in my life, I asked him the best way to prepare it. He said to season it and throw it under the broiler for about four minutes per side. I asked him if I needed to marinate it. He said I could, maybe some garlic and olive oil.
And then he got an odd look on his face. His eyes kind of turned down and to the side. He whispered out of the side of his mouth, "I've got some olive oil, garlic and rosemary marinade in here (pointing to the side of the cooler where they keep the deli meats). Do you want some?"
"Sure," I said. "That would be great." He grabbed a container and spooned in a heap of glop. He brought it over and showed it to me.

He charged me a nominal amount for the glop and I gleefully took it home. And I kept chuckling all the way, thinking of the look on his face when he offered me the marinade. And that's when I remembered that long ago trip to Mexico when we rode around looking for the "butcher man."
At last I found him. He's pushing marinade. Hey little girl, want some olive oil, a little garlic? It's even better with some rosemary laced in. The first batch is free. Go ahead, try some. Just a little won't hurt you!

I put it under the broiler for about four minutes per side. As you can see up top, it came out beautifully medium rare. It was delicious, like I knew it would be. Already I'm craving more. Damn that butcher man. I need another fix!