I draped some of this butterlicious sauce over a bourbon-marinated rib eye, mostly because Mr. Bittman said it was essentially béarnaise without the eggs. And I’m all for leaving those foul chicken droppings out whenever I can. This was just shallots, white wine, vinegar, butter — and a boatload of flavor. It was one of those evenings when my husband was grateful for this new-food experiment. But I’m not going to tell his doctor about the stick of butter I whisked into the sauce.