Recipes

The steak-restaurant order you can make in one pan

There's a reason the green peppercorn sauce has never left the steak-restaurant menu: it's magnificent, and it takes about ten minutes. The little peppercorns come in a jar of brine, sitting near the capers at the supermarket, and they bring a gentle heat that cream rounds off beautifully. You'll sear the sirloin in a heavy pan, rest it, and build the whole sauce on the browned bits left behind. Two steaks, one pan, and a dinner that feels like a night out.

Two small steaks, three full plates

Here's a quiet bit of kitchen maths. Two 140g medallions doesn't sound like dinner for three — until you roast a tray of pumpkin, sear the fillet medium-rare, rest it properly and slice it thin across the grain. Suddenly every plate gets sweet golden pumpkin, creamy feta, toasted pepitas and a generous fan of the tenderest beef there is. It's the kind of dinner that feels abundant without being heavy, and it makes the smallest pack in the share go further than you'd believe.

Occasion cooking from a bottle of red and a bit of patience

This is occasion cooking, but be clear about what that means: the sauce is red wine, eschalots and stock reduced patiently in a small saucepan, finished with cold butter until it turns glossy. Half an hour, most of it unattended. Meanwhile the sirloin gets a proper sear and a proper rest, and the two meet on a warm plate over mash. It's the kind of dinner restaurants charge dearly for, made from one steak and the open half of a bottle you were drinking anyway.

The great Aussie celebration plate, done at home

There was a time when steak crowned with garlic prawns was the fanciest thing an Australian bistro could put in front of you. It still earns its keep — and it turns out the whole plate is a 25-minute, one-pan job. Sear the medallions, rest them under foil, and the prawns cook in garlic butter in the same pan while you set the table. The resting juices go back into the butter at the end, which is the part the bistros never told you about. Anniversary, birthday, or just a Tuesday that deserves better — this is the one.

The premium shortcut to a better stir-fry

Most stir-fry troubles start with the beef spending too long in the wok, toughening up while you wait for it to colour. Sirloin fixes that before you start. It's tender from the first slice, so the strips need only a minute over ferocious heat — which means the sugar snaps stay bright and snappy and the sauce goes glossy instead of stewed. Twenty-five minutes including the marinade, and one steak quietly stretches to feed four.

Salty fat, doing exactly what fillet needs

Eye fillet has one weakness — it's the leanest cut on the beast — and butchers worked out the fix generations ago: wrap it in something fatty and let the wrap do the basting. Prosciutto is the elegant version of that old trick. As the band crisps around each medallion, its salty fat renders into the meat, and a quick butter-and-sage baste at the end brings the whole thing together. Two medallions, one pan, thirty-five minutes — and a plate that looks like far more work than it was.

One steak, four plates, no oven

Here's a trick worth knowing: one good steak, rested properly and sliced thin, feeds the whole table when there's a proper salad underneath it. The sirloin in your share is made for the job — tender enough to slice like silk, with enough flavour that every forkful counts. The honey-mustard dressing is four pantry things shaken in a jar, and the salad is whatever's crisp in the crisper. Fifteen minutes of actual cooking, one pan, and dinner looks like you tried a lot harder than you did.

The grand project, cut down to exactly what's in the pack

A whole beef Wellington is a magnificent thing that needs a dinner party to justify it. Individual Wellingtons are the smarter play: your two 140g medallions are precisely the right size, everyone gets their own golden pastry parcel, and there's no nervous carving in front of an audience. This is a proper Saturday-afternoon project — duxelles, prosciutto, puff pastry, the works — but every stage is honest and none of it is hard. Give it ninety minutes and pour yourself something while the oven does the final act.

The bistro classic that's really just steak and chips, done properly

Every bistro in Paris built its name on this plate, and here's the quiet truth: it's steak and chips. What turns it into steak frites is care — chips cut thin and roasted properly crisp, a hard-seared steak rested as long as it takes, and a parsley-lemon butter that carries all the browned pan goodness over the top. The 420g sirloin halves neatly into two bistro-sized steaks, so this is dinner for two, done exactly right. Pour something red and don't answer the phone.