The only place for a steak out

You get the picture; it was cold, dark and generally horrible.

The kind of night when you just want to curl up in front of Corrie with a hot water bottle, an open fire and a Lemsip for comfort.

And yet, we were venturing out.

"Have you booked?" enquired the rather ruffled girlfriend, nearly blown away in the five-yard dash to the car.

"Yes dear, ages ago," I replied, despite only ringing that morning. "Anyway, look at the weather, there'll be no-one there tonight."

A few minutes later, we pulled on to the car park at the Miller & Carter just outside Wolverhampton and were greeted by . . . gridlock. It was so busy, people seemed to be ditching their carriages elsewhere and making the last 100 yards or so on foot – in a hurricane.

Seemed like a good idea, but then I got The Look; apparently, parking a bit further on and walking the last bit wasn't an option amid the gathering storm.

Cramming a BMW estate into a space created for a Sinclair C5 was clearly a better call.

But what could have got so many people out of the warmth and comfort of their homes on such a bleak midwinter Thursday night?

Answer: Steak. And Chips. And lots of it.

First came the warm welcome inside the M&C. While it's partly understandable given the price of gas, far too many restaurants at this time of year are caught turning the heating down.

Not this place; warm air hit us like a blast from Fergie's hairdryer as we eyed the hustle and bustle at the bar.

"The waiting time is an hour-and-a-half for a table," groaned one disappointed customer as we held the door on her way out.

Poor dear. Not for us. We've booked (ha!) and it was time to check in. It's worth remembering, however, that you can't reserve a table on Friday or Saturday nights. At the weekend, it really is a case of hurry up and wait.

Anyway, the friendly waitress at the welcome desk confirmed our reservation in no time and promptly handed us a device with red flashing lights that looked like something from Knight Rider.

"Shouldn't be too long," she smiled, "When this vibrates, just come back and I'll take you to your table."

Perfect. Just time to grab a Long Island Ice Tea and a Diet Coke (I'm doing the January dryathlon for charity) and jack two seats on a table with a couple who looked like they were celebrating, until we arrived.

This gave us just long enough for some Grade A people watching and – hats off to the people of Wolverhampton – they'd made a bit of an effort with their Christmas gifts as a young glam crowd mingled with families to create a lively atmosphere.

Ten minutes later, we jumped out of our seats when the black box device went off. Vibrate? It nearly shook the legs off the table. We were led to a quiet booth for two, towards the back of the busy restaurant.

With its individual lamp and feeling of privacy, the spot was perfect for leaning back and checking out the M&C's delights.

And suddenly, a probable reason for the busy Thursday night became clear.

"We've launched a new menu today," smiled our busy, but helpful waitress, "Two courses for £15."

Having been regulars at this joint for a number of years, that sounded like great value.

The deal is running Sunday to Thursday all this month and includes a choice of dusted calamari, nachos and chargrilled chicken wings for starters.

The mains reel off like a food lover's delight; basil pesto salmon, four cheese mezzaluna pasta, handmade bacon and cheeseburger or, with a welcome nod to local ingredients, lemon and chilli roast Shropshire chicken.

And, of course, the famous M&C 8oz rump steak, with a choice of sauces and lettuce wedge dressings.

In short, we were very tempted. But also very hungry and I really fancied tackling a 12oz challenge on such a cold night, just to keep the chill out, you understand.

My girlfriend, only slightly less tiny after festive indulgence, decided her January health kick forbade a starter so she was happy with just a main. And another Long Island Ice Tea.

So we eschewed the joys of the generous set menu and opted for the traditional take instead.

First off, it's important to make clear, this place is not all about the steak. The menu contains enough of a variety to tempt anyone's tastebuds. There's maple-glazed lamb rump, orange and ginger duck (which I very nearly went for) and baked sea bass to name but three. But it's the steaks that most people seemed to be going for, from a wide selection of cuts and sizes; T-bone, porterhouse, ribeye, sirloin – up to the 16oz chateaubriand to share at £42.95.

For those unfamiliar with the M&C experience, steak orders come with a signature iceberg lettuce wedge smothered in a sauce of your choice.

I opted for the garlic and chive mayonnaise with parmesan, while my young(ish) lady went for Stilton and blue cheese.

Then it was on to the main event; she opted for a sensible 8oz medium rump, while I plumped (and that was the operative word) for the 12oz offering, well done of course. A manly meal if ever I saw it.

And that would have been that, apart from the fact that just as I handed the menus back I spotted the garlic bread to share at a bargain £3.50 and sneakily shouted it up while my other half wasn't looking.

It arrived minutes later, warm and with just the right amount of dressing to offer up flavour without the risk of a butter mountain on the plate.

Crisp, but not burnt, it was the perfect choice to tide us over until our steaks arrived roughly 20 minutes later.

I don't know if it's possible for a man to have feelings for his dinner, but for me and this 12oz beast it was love at first bite. Cooked to perfection and without an ounce of fat anywhere in sight, I was smitten.

All the steaks come with parsley butter, seasoned fries or jacket potato, a slice of onion loaf (very nice) lettuce slice and a sauce or butter of your choice. The peppercorn sauce I'd ordered was plentiful enough to cover the whole portion, as well as the generous serving of fries alongside.

In short, this was heaven on a plate.

Rich peppercorns added to the flavours with every bite so much that I almost forgot the signature lettuce side dish with its parmesan shavings and crisp exterior.

I tried not to mix the rich flavours too much but in the end, I reverted back to caveman and stirred the whole lot together on the plate in one big steak/peppercorn/lettuce/ parmesan medley.

And, yes, I'm thinking of copyrighting that.

After 10 minutes or so of food nirvana, I remembered I'd actually come with someone and looked up to check how she was getting on.

Sad brown eyes stared back at me and she looked . . . disappointed. Which, unlike her steak, is rare.

"It's too well done," she said in a voice last heard when Bambi's mum died.

Now, I should have been sympathetic. I could have ordered her another one. I could have asked if she wanted anything else off the menu.

But I didn't.

I just thought: "Bonuuuuus!"

And within seconds, I was offering to try it out, just a little bit. Then a bit more. Then, hell, just pass it over.

And so I became a one-man meat mountain, while helping her post-Christmas diet along the way. Caring and sharing all at once, that's me.

Of course, I hadn't thought this through; I'd been hypnotised by the steak and so much had been snaffled away that there was no room for pudding.

Or coffee. Or those little mints. Nothing in fact. But at least I had a Diet Coke, so my health kick continues.

As for the bill, it came to a very reasonable £50 including drinks, and the service – even on such a busy night – was excellent; not too much waiting around and top quality food brought promptly, with that all-important ingredient, a smile.

Just don't forget to book.