A I love the idea of beef Wellington. It makes me think of lords and castles. Surveying my estate in the countryside.

C Go easy, you’re having delusions of grandeur. Next you’ll be wearing tails!

A Fair call. Let’s bring it to the people, then. So, the most amazing baked beef dish is beef Wellington. But the price of beef can be crazy, so I’ve chosen the top end of the fillet – the chateaubriand – which is cheaper. That’s French, Wellington is English, then we have you.

C Hang on!

A Give you your own castle! Let’s do a beef Dublin.

C Right! You got to your point finally. The beef Dublin. If I’m going to make it right, I haven’t got time to make pancakes.

A Pancakes?

C You’re getting ahead. We’ll sweat out mushroom, onion, garlic and thyme, add in some verjuice and nutmeg, then blitz that up. That’s our duxelles, then we buy wraps. You know, like flour tortillas from the shops.

A So you’re at your 7-Eleven buying wraps?

C I buy puff pastry, too.

A It’s the ‘new’ version, alright.

C I spread the duxelles over the wraps, use that to wrap the beef, then wrap in pastry.

A I’m glad we’re not using expensive beef for this! It’s the Lord Dublin special.

C It’s a show-stopper! Bono beef Dublin! You too can make it! Get it?

Butcher’s cut: Chateaubriand

There are origin stories of a dish called chateaubriand, rich with layers and intrigue. But it’s best to avoid the tales of French counts or steaks so thick they were grilled between two cheaper steaks (which were then discarded!). Better to know the term now refers to a thick piece of beef fillet (filet de boeuf, as the French say) cut from the top end. It needs slower cooking, so sear and finish in the oven, wrap it in pastry, or sure, cook it between two steaks if you’re feeling particularly monstrous. Just know you’ll have to live with that.