Here’s Exactly What I Use to Make Perfect Steaks at Home

My fondest summertime memories from growing up revolve around grilling—picking on guitars with my cousins on the porch, watching lightning bugs flicker in the Virginia dusk, and savoring the smell of charred steak while my sister set the table outside. Since relocating from the hills of Virginia to a shoebox in Brooklyn, I no longer have a grill, but I often make steaks in my cast-iron skillet. My pre-cooking ritual goes like this: I pick up a ribeye and fresh parsley on the way home from work, throw on an old country record when I walk in the door, and decant a good bottle of Argentinian Malbec like Colomé or Amalaya.

I’m known to whip up a mean steak, but I am by no means an expert. I sat down with Dominick Pepe, the head chef at Rocco’s, a storied New York steakhouse, to talk shop—an educational experience more or less like taking a guitar lesson from Slash. Chef Pepe emphasized simplicity in seasoning, letting the beef’s flavor speak for itself. “All you really need is salt, preferably Italian or fresh sea salt,” Pepe told me. “If you add black pepper, do it after the steak is finished cooking.” It’s crucial to let steaks rest, without covering them, after removing them from the heat. “Depending on the thickness, rest a steak on the cutting board for 5-10 minutes before slicing it. This settles the juices and keeps the meat succulent.”

Top-quality ingredients are as essential as technique when making mouth-watering steaks. Ditto for the right kitchen tools. Even if your “chops” are already solid, here’s what you need to take your steak game to the next level.

The meat at my local supermarket leaves much to be desired, but thankfully, reputable meat delivery services bring top-notch steaks right to my door. Steak keeps well in the freezer, and I usually buy a shipment large enough to last me several weeks.

I am an avid fan of the Phish from Vermont, and I’m pleased to report that the Green Mountain State’s beef is just as delightful. Raised in Shire-like dales, the cattle at Vermont Wagyu descend from coveted Japanese breeds like Tajima, Kedaka, and Shimane. Veins of snowy fat marble the ribeyes, hanger steaks, and porterhouses. The flavor is so rich that only a pinch of salt and a grind of black pepper are necessary for seasoning. I enjoy my Vermont Wagyu medium-rare with a light chimichurri sauce.

Run by a fifth-generation ranching family, Omaha Steaks raises grass-fed Angus and Hereford steers on the windswept plains of Nebraska. Grass-fed steaks are more flavorful and healthy than other varieties, packed with Omega-3 and Omega-6 fatty acids. For extra marbling and a buttery texture, Omaha Steaks are grain-finished. They also ship poultry, pork, and indulgent desserts like pecan pie and sticky toffee pudding cake.

When I was learning to grill as a kid, my Uncle Jack taught me a trick to gauge steaks’ doneness: make a relaxed “OK” sign by touching your pointer finger and thumb together. Then, feel the tautness of the muscle below your thumb—that’s the texture of a rare steak. To estimate well-done and medium meat, touch your thumb to your pinky and middle finger, respectively, and use the same technique.

I used this trick for years, fancying myself a primal cook roasting the spoils of the hunt while contemplating the mysteries of the campfire. But after overcooking expensive cuts a few too many times, I decided it was time to embrace modern technology and buy a meat thermometer. The Thermopro, under $20 on Amazon, has been a game-changer, removing the guesswork from my cooking. Using one is simple: just insert the pointed end into the center of the steak, wait a few seconds, and voilà—the steak’s internal temperature appears on the digital reader.

Cutluxe is known for its professional-quality knives and accessible prices. The blades are made from high-carbon German steel, prized for durability and edge retention, while the handles are pakkawood—a strong and resilient composite wood. The magnetic holder, a mounted board of polished acacia wood, looks handsome on my kitchen counter. You’ll want to hand-wash your knives to maintain the integrity of the blade.

My ardor for olive oil is such that I was probably a priest to Athena in a previous life. I use a combination of olive oil and butter when I fry steaks on my cast-iron skillet. I prefer a European-style butter like Danish Creamery, which aids the Maillard reaction for a perfect sear and crust.

Meanwhile, the olive oil imparts a delectable flavor, and my most prized bottles are from Heraclea, a Turkish brand that cold-presses Memecik olives into golden, briny ambrosia. Heraclea’s groves are in Milas, a coastal sliver of Turkey whose olive oil is under Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) status—the same designation the EU gives to Parmesan cheese or balsamic vinegar from Modena. Heraclea’s olive oil is floral and peppery—delicious drizzled over slices of steak or in a chimichurri sauce.

Metal tongs suffice for cooking a single steak on my cast-iron skillet, but I need a sturdy spatula when I cook for a group on an outdoor grill. With a knife that folds into the handle and removable spatula head attachments, the Opinel Spatula+ is like a grillmaster’s Swiss Army knife. I run a tight ship when I cook, and having several tools in one reduces clutter and misplaced utensils. The multi-tool design is also convenient for camping trips when packing space is tight.

Barring a spacious outdoor grill, my favorite method for cooking steak is on a cast-iron skillet. A good skillet infuses steaks with delectable smokiness and gets hot enough for a proper sear. When I sear thicker cuts like ribeyes or top sirloins, I transfer my skillet into a 400-degree oven for a couple of minutes if my meat thermometer indicates the center is too rare. The non-stick coating of Caraway’s cast-iron skillets makes clean-up a breeze—no need to scrub with steel wool like cheaper versions. The non-stick surface is oven-safe and free of nasty heavy metals like lead or cadmium.

My Uncle Jack used to say that the first step in cooking a steak was to take a shot of bourbon. Then, sear each side, sprinkle on kosher salt, and take another shot while resting the steak on the cutting board. I have yet to find a better recipe. For steak night libations, I am partial to luscious, sweet bourbons like Woodford Reserve Double Oaked, J Rieger & Co., or Great Jones Straight Bourbon. All three whiskeys accentuate the incomparable flavor of caramelized meat.