Heather was from Kansas. Her daddy was a beef man. He’d worked in various parts of the beef cattle industry his whole life and he was good at what he did. One year he decided he wanted to ship his daughter a ten pound prime rib as a Christmas present.
Heather was my roommate. The day that Fedex knocked on our door was a joyous one. We lived in a hooker and crack dealer infested area of East Austin so we knew we’d have to keep a weather eye peeled or we’d be minus our glorious prime rib.
I’ve studied meat for years. I decided I wanted to wet age the prime rib to see what effect it would have on the beef. A month passed. We built a big fire in the backyard, slit open the cryovac (it stunk to high heaven) and put a thick crust of kosher salt and cracked black pepper all over the flesh.
4 hours later, with a crowd of eaters gathered around, we pulled the rib roast off the fire and carried it inside to the kitchen table. You may have heard the term “beefy butter” to describe a particularly well cooked brisket? That phrase would be most appropriate to describe this meat.
It’s not particularly hard to make an outstanding meal when you start with such a prime hunk of flesh. I built a fire out of hickory wood on one side of a standard Weber Grill; after the fire went to embers I placed the heavily salted and peppered hunk of beef on the opposite side and opened the vent up half way. At the 4 hour mark the meat was a perfect medium rare.
Standard sides for such a feast are buttermilk mash potatoes, salad with bleu cheese dressing and big hunks of crusty French bread.