I was invited to @theraredxb Brasserie & Bar, a restaurant that tries very hard not to be classified as a steakhouse. I was there to try some new, ahem, steak from the world-famous Bodega El Capricho – a place in Spain that has become near-mythical among meat aficionados worldwide.

One of the star dishes on the menu that night was the beef satay. The dish was made from the tender, highly marbled and flavourful meat that is found between the ribs, marinated in a rich tangy peanut sauce.

@thesahilanand explained that he had this same dish on the regular menu, and it never sold. The reason? Its name. He named it after the technical cut, so on the menu it read:

“Beef Intercostals, coconut satay, pickled shallots, crushed peanuts.”

The dish just wasn’t moving – and in fairness, I don’t think I would normally order beef intercostals without encouragement. So Sahil changed the name. Simply called it Beef Satay. Guess what? It flew off the grill. Same thing happened to another dish. Another well-marbled and tender beef cut. He named it:

“Oyster blade steak, Salsa pebre, Amarillo chilli”

Again, didn’t sell. “Nobody wanted ‘oysters’ with their steak,” Sahil explained. So again he used another name it is commonly known for – the Flat Iron steak. Bingo – people connected with it and started ordering it.

As he was telling me this, I was bouncing up and down, desperate for him to finish, so I could crowbar my favourite story into the conversation. When he paused for a sip of wine, I saw my chance.

“Patagonian Toothfish!” I blurted out enthusiastically, proud as punch and delirious with excitement that the conversation had led me to my favourite story. Sahil took another calm sip of wine, and nodded.

“Exactly,” he said, “Chilean Seabass.”

I said nothing and ate some more intercostal satay. Less