Everyone has their preference, of course. And one could say there is no WRONG way to have a steak prepared for you, but the person who said that would be very sadly mistaken.

However, in today’s day and age, it’s totally okay for people to like absolutely awful things. It’s 2018! You do you. But let’s not try to pretend that awful isn’t awful. If you enjoy spritzing a nice big paper cut with lemon juice and salt, that’s a-okay. But still… GAH!!

You see, [laces fingers behind head and leans back smugly] dads tend to know a thing or two about grilling meat. I know I’m childishly relying on a clichéd stereotype here, but it suits my purposes, so neener neener eat a peener! I’m writing sensationalized nonsense here for your amusement, not a well-founded and accurate thought-piece. So, in my self-proclaimed expert opinion, the IS a WRONG way to order a steak.

Let’s look at it in contrast.

My wife and I like our steak prepared differently. I like to enjoy the juicy, savory deliciousness of a well-marbled cut of beef, and she likes to gnaw on the scorched remains of what could have been found in the smoking aftermath of a massive forest fire.

I’m not one to tell her how she should have her steak prepared. I’m an empathetic man who also enjoys the prospect of ever having sex again, so I don’t push this with her.

Her aunt also likes any meat, poultry or fish cremated, so they’re like charcoal pals when we eat together, the cute little dragons.

If you want to put it to the test, the next time you’re at a nice restaurant and you decide to order some cooked cow, when the server asked how you’d like it prepared, say, “Ruin it.” I’d bet both my outdoor grills that server will know that means “well done to within a 1/16th of an inch of its once-succulent life.”

Sure, you can tell a struggling young student that it’s OKAY that they wrote 2+2 = Purple, but you can’t tell them that it’s CORRECT.

So when it comes to steak, we each have our own preference, but some of those preferences are WRONG.

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P.S. my wife has read this post and you’ll be pleased (or displeased) to know that I am still allowed to breathe air. The jury is still out on future marital relations, though.
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