How-To Guides

How to Cook Sirloin Steak

What is sirloin Steak?

How to Cook Sirloin Steak: One of the most popular steaks, and for good reason, a sirloin steak is king when it comes to big beefy flavours. The reference to royalty doesn’t stop there, as legend has it that sirloin was given its name because it was knighted ‘Sir Loin’ by Henry VIII.

Taken from the sirloin section (mid-back) of the cow, the sirloin is regarded as one of the classic primal steaks alongside ribeye steak, fillet steak, and rump steak.

Swaledale’s sirloin steaks are aged in our Himalayan salt-ageing chamber to give them real character and depth of flavour. They are the perfect companion for strongly flavoured sides or sauces, especially a deliciously creamy green peppercorn sauce.

Sirloin steak cooking time

We at Swaledale think medium-rare is the perfect way to enjoy a sirloin steak. We advise around 4-6 minutes cooking time to achieve this stage of doneness, excluding the initial rendering.

How to cook sirloin steak medium-rare

  1. Take your sirloin steaks out of the refrigerator.
  2. Remove your meat from the vacuum packaging and pat dry any moisture. Allow it to come up to room temperature.
  3. Rub a little oil over both sides of the steaks — use an oil with a high smoking point and neutral flavor. Season with salt and pepper.
  4. Place your steaks in a pan over a low temperature, fat side down propped up against one another. Allow the fat to render slowly and crisp for about 5 minutes.
  5. Increase the heat of the pan until very hot and just starting to smoke. Flip the steaks over and proceed to sear in their own fat, turning every 90 seconds or so – a rich, golden crust should form.
  6. Reduce the heat of the pan slightly after the first sear on each side has been completed.
  7. Remove the steaks from the frying pan and leave them to rest in a warm place for a minimum of 6 minutes.

Top tips

To gauge how done your meat is while cooking, you can carry out a quick and reliable finger test to ensure it is medium-rare. Gently press the tip of your middle finger to the tip of your thumb. Feel the palm of your hand just below your thumb – this is medium-rare. It should feel like your cheek: tender and soft but still fleshy.

Sirloin steak recipe ideas

Why not make your work-from-home lunchtime extra special with a sirloin steak sandwich? For a delicious evening meal, try topping your sirloin with horseradish and chive butter for a creamy sauce that delivers a kick.

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  • Winter and its cold hands have us fully in a tight embrace right now. And so we find ourselves cooking more often than not, to warm our souls.

A ham at the weekend is one such thing that does the job. It can be used for all kinds of dishes and provide your weekdays with a plethora of fine sandwiches. But this fine cut also produces something else. An excellent, warming stock that should not be thrown away.

In fact, it should be used to make something just as special. A deep, hearty split pea and ham soup. And here is @grylos showing you how to do it. Like most things, if you cook with time and consideration, the by-product is often just as good as the main event.
  • Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop?

This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere.

These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
  • Fancy a bit of a butcher’s tip? Or a hack, if you will. Well look no further. 

Here, @grylos, gets creative with a joint of boned and rolled beef rump, creating three, totally different meals, from the one piece of meat. A great example of some leftfield thinking and the perfect way to add a little variety into your weekly meal planning. Along the spectrum from raw to medium, your week could go a little something like this; tartare and toast lightly rubbed with garlic for lunch on Wednesday; steak night on Friday night, with chips, good red wine and a bowl of bearnaise; a roast dinner on Sunday. Bob’s your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt and a carnivorous and hugely satisfying week of eating is complete. 

All that from a single rolled rump of beef! A life hack if I ever saw one…

Did you know that our rumps won 3 stars at the Great Taste Awards? 3-star rump, you can’t argue with that!
  • Do you love bacon?

Here’s our in house science and history teacher, @grylos, talking osmosis, salt, and the slow work of dry curing bacon.
  • Burns Night, 25 January.

Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns.
Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures.

A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork.
A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice.

Food for a cold night.
  • On many a recipe, the instruction ‘brown your mince’ is set out plainly enough. And yet, deep into January, when slow cooking is very much back on the table and recipes keep asking for the same thing, it feels worth saying that this is meant quite literally. Brown your mince. It does not say grey it.

Browning is a process, not a gesture. It takes time, heat, and a little patience, and what you are doing is building flavour, not simply warming meat through. When mince is rushed, crowded into the pan, stirred too soon, it stews. It turns grey. The moisture stays put and the flavour never quite arrives.

So here is @grylos , taking a moment to explain the difference, and to remind you that if you want the most from good produce, you have to let it work. Give it space. Leave it alone long enough to colour properly. Let it smell right before you move on.

Because this is slow food month, after all. There is no need to hurry. Take your time, do it properly, and you will taste the difference in the finished dish.
  • Winter. It felt strange being in Yorkshire, watching the news from the south where snow lay thick and sudden, while here January had arrived quietly, cold and wet, but not yet truly winter as we know it. Up here the season has always moved at a slower pace, and there is something steadying in remembering that. The idea that we should charge straight on after Christmas is a modern one, and it sits awkwardly with bodies and minds that are still tuned to pause, to take stock, to look back at the year just gone. 

Out on the farms, there is no rush but plenty to do. Some are already lambing, others preparing for it, working with the land rather than against it as the days begin, almost imperceptibly, to lengthen. The fields are still subdued, but there are signs, if you look closely, that life is beginning to stir again.

And so, it feels right, now and then, to slow everything down and simply notice Yorkshire in January, not as something to be endured, but as a quiet and beautiful part of the year in its own right.
  • Now the depths of winter descend. The excitement of Christmas has passed, but do not let that fool you. These months are still some of the best for eating roasted meats and leaning into deeper, newer flavour profiles.

Here is a traditional, and not so traditional, approach to our pork middle. We send a lot of our pork middles out to chefs, ready for them to stuff and roast in their own way, using both the loin and the belly. You will see plenty of porchetta on the market that uses just the belly. This is different. Using both cuts gives balance, structure, and allows the flavour of the pork itself to shine.

For our website, we also offer a less traditional version, stuffed simply with our fennel sausage meat. That brings seasoning right through the joint, and a little extra fat to help keep everything moist during a long, slow roast.

It is a brilliant cut to have, either as a roast or the following day, sliced cold for sandwiches.
Winter and its cold hands have us fully in a tight embrace right now. And so we find ourselves cooking more often than not, to warm our souls. A ham at the weekend is one such thing that does the job. It can be used for all kinds of dishes and provide your weekdays with a plethora of fine sandwiches. But this fine cut also produces something else. An excellent, warming stock that should not be thrown away. In fact, it should be used to make something just as special. A deep, hearty split pea and ham soup. And here is @grylos showing you how to do it. Like most things, if you cook with time and consideration, the by-product is often just as good as the main event.
3 days ago
12316
View on Instagram |
1/8
Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop?

This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere.

These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop?

This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere.

These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop? This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere. These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
1 week ago
462
View on Instagram |
2/8
Fancy a bit of a butcher’s tip? Or a hack, if you will. Well look no further. Here, @grylos, gets creative with a joint of boned and rolled beef rump, creating three, totally different meals, from the one piece of meat. A great example of some leftfield thinking and the perfect way to add a little variety into your weekly meal planning. Along the spectrum from raw to medium, your week could go a little something like this; tartare and toast lightly rubbed with garlic for lunch on Wednesday; steak night on Friday night, with chips, good red wine and a bowl of bearnaise; a roast dinner on Sunday. Bob’s your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt and a carnivorous and hugely satisfying week of eating is complete. All that from a single rolled rump of beef! A life hack if I ever saw one… Did you know that our rumps won 3 stars at the Great Taste Awards? 3-star rump, you can’t argue with that!
2 weeks ago
2505
View on Instagram |
3/8
Do you love bacon? Here’s our in house science and history teacher, @grylos, talking osmosis, salt, and the slow work of dry curing bacon.
2 weeks ago
3498
View on Instagram |
4/8
Burns Night, 25 January.

Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns.
Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures.

A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork.
A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice.

Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January.

Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns.
Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures.

A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork.
A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice.

Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January.

Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns.
Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures.

A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork.
A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice.

Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January.

Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns.
Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures.

A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork.
A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice.

Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January.

Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns.
Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures.

A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork.
A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice.

Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January.

Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns.
Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures.

A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork.
A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice.

Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
3 weeks ago
1166
View on Instagram |
5/8
On many a recipe, the instruction ‘brown your mince’ is set out plainly enough. And yet, deep into January, when slow cooking is very much back on the table and recipes keep asking for the same thing, it feels worth saying that this is meant quite literally. Brown your mince. It does not say grey it. Browning is a process, not a gesture. It takes time, heat, and a little patience, and what you are doing is building flavour, not simply warming meat through. When mince is rushed, crowded into the pan, stirred too soon, it stews. It turns grey. The moisture stays put and the flavour never quite arrives. So here is @grylos , taking a moment to explain the difference, and to remind you that if you want the most from good produce, you have to let it work. Give it space. Leave it alone long enough to colour properly. Let it smell right before you move on. Because this is slow food month, after all. There is no need to hurry. Take your time, do it properly, and you will taste the difference in the finished dish.
4 weeks ago
2777
View on Instagram |
6/8
Winter. It felt strange being in Yorkshire, watching the news from the south where snow lay thick and sudden, while here January had arrived quietly, cold and wet, but not yet truly winter as we know it. Up here the season has always moved at a slower pace, and there is something steadying in remembering that. The idea that we should charge straight on after Christmas is a modern one, and it sits awkwardly with bodies and minds that are still tuned to pause, to take stock, to look back at the year just gone. 

Out on the farms, there is no rush but plenty to do. Some are already lambing, others preparing for it, working with the land rather than against it as the days begin, almost imperceptibly, to lengthen. The fields are still subdued, but there are signs, if you look closely, that life is beginning to stir again.

And so, it feels right, now and then, to slow everything down and simply notice Yorkshire in January, not as something to be endured, but as a quiet and beautiful part of the year in its own right.
Winter. It felt strange being in Yorkshire, watching the news from the south where snow lay thick and sudden, while here January had arrived quietly, cold and wet, but not yet truly winter as we know it. Up here the season has always moved at a slower pace, and there is something steadying in remembering that. The idea that we should charge straight on after Christmas is a modern one, and it sits awkwardly with bodies and minds that are still tuned to pause, to take stock, to look back at the year just gone. 

Out on the farms, there is no rush but plenty to do. Some are already lambing, others preparing for it, working with the land rather than against it as the days begin, almost imperceptibly, to lengthen. The fields are still subdued, but there are signs, if you look closely, that life is beginning to stir again.

And so, it feels right, now and then, to slow everything down and simply notice Yorkshire in January, not as something to be endured, but as a quiet and beautiful part of the year in its own right.
Winter. It felt strange being in Yorkshire, watching the news from the south where snow lay thick and sudden, while here January had arrived quietly, cold and wet, but not yet truly winter as we know it. Up here the season has always moved at a slower pace, and there is something steadying in remembering that. The idea that we should charge straight on after Christmas is a modern one, and it sits awkwardly with bodies and minds that are still tuned to pause, to take stock, to look back at the year just gone. 

Out on the farms, there is no rush but plenty to do. Some are already lambing, others preparing for it, working with the land rather than against it as the days begin, almost imperceptibly, to lengthen. The fields are still subdued, but there are signs, if you look closely, that life is beginning to stir again.

And so, it feels right, now and then, to slow everything down and simply notice Yorkshire in January, not as something to be endured, but as a quiet and beautiful part of the year in its own right.
Winter. It felt strange being in Yorkshire, watching the news from the south where snow lay thick and sudden, while here January had arrived quietly, cold and wet, but not yet truly winter as we know it. Up here the season has always moved at a slower pace, and there is something steadying in remembering that. The idea that we should charge straight on after Christmas is a modern one, and it sits awkwardly with bodies and minds that are still tuned to pause, to take stock, to look back at the year just gone. Out on the farms, there is no rush but plenty to do. Some are already lambing, others preparing for it, working with the land rather than against it as the days begin, almost imperceptibly, to lengthen. The fields are still subdued, but there are signs, if you look closely, that life is beginning to stir again. And so, it feels right, now and then, to slow everything down and simply notice Yorkshire in January, not as something to be endured, but as a quiet and beautiful part of the year in its own right.
4 weeks ago
712
View on Instagram |
7/8
Now the depths of winter descend. The excitement of Christmas has passed, but do not let that fool you. These months are still some of the best for eating roasted meats and leaning into deeper, newer flavour profiles. Here is a traditional, and not so traditional, approach to our pork middle. We send a lot of our pork middles out to chefs, ready for them to stuff and roast in their own way, using both the loin and the belly. You will see plenty of porchetta on the market that uses just the belly. This is different. Using both cuts gives balance, structure, and allows the flavour of the pork itself to shine. For our website, we also offer a less traditional version, stuffed simply with our fennel sausage meat. That brings seasoning right through the joint, and a little extra fat to help keep everything moist during a long, slow roast. It is a brilliant cut to have, either as a roast or the following day, sliced cold for sandwiches.
1 month ago
1401
View on Instagram |
8/8