I pulledinto Seraphina’s driveway at five, with the groceries in the back. Seraphina answered the door before I knocked, which meant she’d been watching for my truck. She was in jeans and a T-shirt, hair down, and her reading glasses pushed up on her head. She looked at the grocery bag, smiling.
“What did you bring?”
“I picked up some steaks. I can grill them for us, if that’s okay?”
“I never turn down a handsome man offering to cook for me. Come on in. Tyler’s showering but should be ready in a few.”
She held the door open and I followed her into the kitchen, where I set the bag on the island.
“The steaks we should leave out so they get to room temperature,” I said. “Also, do you have kosher salt? I want to rub some in before I go out with Tyler.”
“Yes, I think so. Is there a difference between kosher salt and regular salt?”
“Kosher salt has larger, courser flakes, which makes them easier to pinch and control while seasoning. Plus, the big flakes draw out the moisture in the meat effectively.”
She raised both eyebrows. “Okay, well then, I sure hope we have some.”
“We do. It’s in the pantry next to the brown sugar.”
We turned to see Tyler standing there, wearing a pair of jeans and tee, his hair damp from the shower.
“Hey, Tyler,” I said. “You ready for some open road?”
“Beyond ready.” Tyler’s young cheeks flushed pink. “Thanks for making time. And we’re having steaks?”
“I always make time for people I care about. And yes. Ribeyes.”
“My mouth’s watering just thinking about them,” Seraphina said.
“Yeah, that sounds really good.” Tyler stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. “You want to go out now?”
“Almost. I’m going to season the steaks first,” I said.
“How do you do it?” Tyler asked.
“I’ll show you. There’s nothing to it.” I unwrapped the steaks and laid them on the cutting board while Tyler watched from the other side of the island. “We want them to reach room temperature before we grill them.”
“I’ll grab the salt,” Tyler said, heading toward the pantry and returning with a box of coarse salt. “Is this good?”
“Perfect. See how coarse it is? You want this, not table salt. Table salt’s too fine—you’ll over-season before you know it.” I held the container out so he could look at it. “You season from high up. Like this.” I raised my hand a good ten inches above the steak and let the salt fall in an even shower across the surface. “The height gives you an even distribution. You’re not dumping it in one spot.”
Tyler watched with his chin slightly lifted. “Cool. I think I saw that on a Youtube video one time.”
“Do both sides,” I said, flipping the steak. “And don’t be timid about it. A thick cut like this can take more than you think.Under-seasoned steak is a waste of a good piece of meat.” I pushed the salt container toward him. “Do this one.”
He picked it up, held his hand at the right height, and let the salt fall evenly.
“Well done. Now the pepper.” I handed him the grinder. “Crack it fresh. Pre-ground pepper’s got no heat left in it.”
He did as I asked. “Will you show me how to grill them too?”
“You got it. I learned from Wes. He cooks a mean steak.”
“Cool.”
During all of this, Seraphina had watched from a stool at the island, sipping a glass of sparkling water.
“That’s it,” I said. “Want to drive?”
