1. Set out your ingredients. Always take a picture of this step because... it's fun.
2. Replace 1/4 cup of whiskey with not quite a quarter cup of marsala cooking wine onaccounta you only needed a quarter cup of whiskey in the first place, and you don't keep whiskey on hand, and you weren't gonna go buy whiskey just for a little ol' quarter cup, and whiskey just generally leaves a bad taste in your mouth onaccounta your upbringin', and if you'd used whiskey, you wouldn't have been able to blog about it, onaccounta respect for all the folk in your life who hate whiskey. So just go with the marsala.
3. Replace the 5 tbs of butter with coagulated bacon grease left in the skillet from breakfast. Oh yeah, baby.
4. Replace the buttermilk with heavy whipping cream because the buttermilk is past due, which you're not sure matters but you don't want to chance, and heavy whipping cream is yummy. Like, WAY yummy.
5. Decide to take PW up on her suggestion of serving the steak with roasted potato wedges. But don't roast potato wedges. Quarter potatoes and fry them. In bacon grease. Oh yeah, baby.
6. Talk to your potato's eyes while you prepare the potatoes for frying. Alternate between compassion ("I'm sorry, little eyes, that I have to pluck you out... you were tryin' so hard to do your job!") and smack talk. ("Ha ha! Take that, suckas! You'll never rot my potatoes!!")
7. Forget Jeff's advice about using tongs, drop several potato quarters into sizzling bacon grease, splash grease out of the pan, and burn your pinky finger.
8. Rinse your finger under cold water and watch with fascination to see if it will turn red, like your foot did last time.
9. After this incident, get some tongs, but observe that they prove to be very unwieldy in the face of quartered potatoes. Give up on the tongs and live dangerously by scooping up handfuls of potato quarters, tossing them boldly into the skillet, and then withdrawing your hands out of harm's way very quickly like you're playing hot potato.
10. Chop up what may or may not be a quarter cup of onion, and fry it in bacon grease. Oh yeah, baby!
11. Whisk in the marsala and cream and stuff. Don't add bacon grease. Add a tbs of butter, like PW says, because you just can't see adding bacon grease on purpose like that. That'd be like... using whiskey.
12. Fry up your rib-eye steaks in bacon grease. Oh yeah, baby!
13. Be so bad because you know bacon-fried steaks will be so good.
14. Wait FOR. EH. VER. for the steaks to be done because your husband likes them well-done and you're not too far behind him with your preference of medium-well.
15. Discover that your long wait resulted in steaks that are jus' a li'l bit crisply on the outside and succulent on the inside.
16. Cut the excess fat off your steaks because you really care about eating healthy. (Shut up, bacon grease. Nobody asked you.) Know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you are using the right knife because it has the word "steak" on it.
17. Be ambivalent about your fried potatoes because they look sort of scorched. But do the test your mama taught you and stab them with a fork to see if they're done.
18. Do a sauce taste test, and be so excited about the results that you nearly forget to take a picture of the finished meal before you dig in.
19. Dig in. Be in steak heaven. And fried potato heaven, as it turns out.
20. Discover that, so far, this is your favorite meal from PW's cookbook, and nod in vigorous agreement when your husband's boisterous declaration turns out to be, "This one you could repeat!"