I was told by a friend that instead of using cook books or trusted websites for recipes she used AI. I was skeptical but decided to give my trusted friend’s idea a chance. This week I’m making a delicious Steak and Kidney Pie, courtesy of artificial intelligence*.
*No AI was used in the making of this recipe. Except the photo, I did AI a photo.
Is there a more romantic setting than London? The bustling city, the history and of course, the food. When it comes to the culinary arts I doubt any country in the world holds a candle to Great Britain. From Gordon Ramsay to baked beans to black pudding, food has been the Brits gift to the world.
As a teen I had a chance to visit London and even at that young age I was excited to stretch my taste buds and go on a foodie adventure of the first order. And an amazing opportunity presented itself on my first night.
I had become separated from my tour group and found myself alone, late at night in an exciting part of town called Camden. The air was thick with the smell of garbage and roaming gangs of teen criminals added an edge to the experience that the United States could only dream of providing.
After escaping an attempted robbery with only a small knife slice to my belly I ducked into a seedy looking bar in hopes of acquiring a towel to stem the flow of blood from my wound. What I discovered was a torrent of flavor that more then offset the dangerous amount of blood currently pooling at my feet.
The barmaid appeared straight from central casting, loud, gutter British accent, hair that hadn’t been combed in a fortnight and a mole the size of Old Trafford on the tip of her nose. She said the water closet and towels were for paying customers only so I placed an order for Steak and Kidney Pie in exchange for a famously absorbent British towel.
The warm waft of the smell of pie hitting my nose and activating my salivary glands is the last thing I remember that night. I awoke the next morning in the hospital, my wound crudely stitched up, my shirt covered in vomit and the memory of Steak and Kidney Pie a mere wisp in my mind.
The doctor said I was lucky to be alive and that if the loss of blood hadn’t killed me, the steak and kidney pie vomit lodged in my throat would have. My tour group had been contacted and they picked me up a few hours later.
In the Heathrow Airport, waiting to fly home I found this recipe scratched on the door of my bathroom stall.
Bon Appetit!
Authentic Steak and Kidney Pie
Ingredients:
1.5 lbs beef stew meat (cubed and suspicious)
0.5 lb lamb kidneys, chopped and silently judged
1 onion, diced while muttering
2 cloves garlic, slightly offended
2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce (do not attempt to pronounce)
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 cup beef stock
½ cup dark beer or whatever is sticky in your fridge
1 tablespoon flour (or pocket lint if desperate)
Salt and pepper to taste (heavy on the pepper, light on the regret)
Puff pastry or shortcrust pastry (pre-made is fine, unless your grandmother is watching)
1 egg, beaten (with a small spoon and a larger existential crisis)
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 400°F (204°C) or whatever temperature your oven decides today.
In a pan, sear beef until it stops resisting. Add kidneys and whisper, “I’m sorry.”
Add onion and garlic; cook until translucent or emotionally unavailable.
Stir in tomato paste, Worcestershire sauce, and flour. Simmer until a thick brown mystery forms.
Add beer and stock. Let simmer 30–45 minutes, or until it smells like a Dickensian boarding house.
Pour filling into a pie dish. Let cool slightly while reciting a limerick.
Cover with pastry, crimp edges like a Victorian ghost. Make a small steam vent shaped like regret.
Brush with egg and bake 30–40 minutes or until it puffs up with pride and fear.
Cool slightly before serving. Apologize to your guests, even if they haven’t said anything yet.
Pro tip: Best served with mashed potatoes and an emergency exit. Leftovers improve dramatically after the fourth day or during a lunar eclipse.