I've been in St. Louis for a week now with my mother being back in the hospital. She had a partial hip replacement yesterday. Totally unrelated, the St. Louis Cardinals had their first Spring Training game of the year this afternoon. Hopefully it was not a preview of what is to come, as they blew a 6-0 lead and lost 7-6.
The first game of the spring and being back in the old hometown reminds me of one thing, and one thing only. Pork steaks.
Like toasted ravioli, gooey butter cake, provel cheese, frozen custard, pork steaks ten to be a St. Louis thing. On warm, spring and summer evenings, especially on the weekend, to be outside, and no matter which way you the wind was blowing, you were overwhelmed by the smell of meat on the grill. More often than not, it was pork steaks on the grill.
In many places in this wonderful country of ours, they are ignorant to the ways of the pork steak. Mostly out west, the northeast and the very deep south.
M and I had been living in Tuscumbia, Ala., about six months when I went to my friendly neighborhood Publix. They have a great bakery and deli, surely their meat department is first rate as well. As I looked in the "pork" section, I was very disappointed, because nowhere did I see anything that even closely resembled a pork steak. Don't try and sell me pork chops, that is not even in the same ballpark.
Finally the butcher, who must have seen the look of concern on my face, came out.
"Can I help you," he asked politely.
"Yes you can," I answered just as politely, "I'm looking for some pork steaks and can't find any."
He looked at me like I was some alien from Mars. "I'm not sure what you mean."
I stared at him like he was an alien from Mars. "You know, (obviously he didn't), a pork steak. A steak cut from the shoulder/butt area."
A faint glimmer came to his eyes. "You know, about three weeks ago there was a guy came in asking for the same thing."
Good gracious man, I am thinking to myself, why aren't they in stock. "And," I finally said.
"I cut some for him," he said, still not sure if he was on Candid Camera or not.
"Well, think you can cut some for me?" At this point I am considering driving to St. Louis and getting some.
'Sure," he said with that Publix confidence, "now what cut is that again?"
I explained take the pork shoulder, cut it into about one-half inch steaks and I want three of them. And leave the bone in. He said give him 15 minutes
About 20 minutes later I went back to the meat department, and he must have seen me coming. He was waiting for me with a nice tidy package of three freshly cut pork steaks. I must admit, for not knowing what a pork steak was, he did a pretty good job cutting them.
So I tell you all of that to tell you this. It is a custom in the Sullivan family, yea verily, a state holiday, to grill pork steaks on the afternoon of the first baseball game of the year. Growing up in St. Louis, and spending part of my life there, the weather in the Gateway city in late February can be anything from single digits to high's in the 70's. Doesn't matter. First game you grill. No excuses.
Though it is a Sullivan tradition, it was my Grandpa Dalton who instilled in me a love of grilling meat (almost always pork steaks) on the grill. Some of my happiest memories growing up were sitting on metal yard chairs in the backyard with grandpa, stoking a charcoal grill, that is cooking half a dozen or so pork steaks. Frequently he let me make the barbecue sauce. Yes, we made our own.
My grandpa Dalton died in 1973; I was 15 years old. If I could have had one wish back then, it would have been God letting him live another 20-25 years. But he didn't, and that is ok. They must have needed good grillers in heaven.
Pork steaks, first game of the spring, my Grandpa Dalton. The perfect trifecta.
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