Unfortunately, the editor of this cookbook does not go in for little stories about the food. There are no sketches of Meg, the Oregon farm wife, presenting her flank steak to Hewitt after she (Hewitt) spent a long day bumping over dusty Oregon back roads in search of the authentic recipe. Meg remains a mystery.
Flank steak, too, I imagine, is a mystery to many people. It was to me. I guess it comes from the flank (?), which I guess would be the rear leg. Flank steaks are thin and have very long fibers. Truth be told, they'e tough. At least this one was.
You are supposed to unroll it, and stuff it with a combination of chopped onions, peppers, and garlic and two cups of breadcrumbs. I thought there were breadcrumbs in the closet. What there was in the closet was the remenants of a loaf of whole wheat French bread. Quick, into the blender with it. Fifteen minutes worth of grinding and whirring later, and I had my breadcrumbs. Add anchovies, capers and thyme.
Then spread it on the flank steak and wrap it up. I was supposed to tie it with string, but I didn't have any string, so I just folded it over. Drape it with slices of bacon and cook it for an hour and a half at 350 degrees.
This was okay. It was not haut cuisine.