BWR Classic: Steak Tartare

In going back through my old posts, I smile at those that feature one or both of my dearly departed dogs. At the same time, I know that they would appreciate that I still crave things like steak tartare, and that they liked the fact that my "sloppy" knife skills would allow bits of tender delicious beef to hit the floor while they were nosing around in the kitchen.

* * *

I've said this before and I'll say it again: one of the joys of cooking is that you don't need to travel to a fancy restaurant to try a fabled dish if you've got access to the proper ingredients and have the requisite skills and determination. With that in mind, I recently attempted steak tartare. Naturally, I followed Bourdain's recipe from the Les Halles Cookbook.

My first introduction to the dish was actually on the playground in elementary school. Lest you assume that I attended an elite branch of the Lycée Français, this culinary lesson took the form of arguments over them damned Europeans eating raw beef, and eventually a library encyclopedia settled the issue. For years afterward I assumed that the French and Germans always ate raw meat. Fast forward to 2009, and I've become that which terrified me. And I like fresh mayonnaise on my fries. What happened to that all-American lad?

While we're talking about childhood, I'll also note that this dish will disappoint both of my parents. Mom has strict rules against raw meat and raw eggs, and Dad can't stand mayonnaise. (Family dinners are harmonious, fear not--Mom's steak just goes on the grill long before the rest of ours, and Dad just avoids cold salads that are bound together with mayo.)

But I did make the mayo from scratch, and divided the batch into two parts, one of which was seasoned with Sriracha. I left the diced shallots and cornichons on the side to allow for desired mixing at the table, but I loved the presentation of the egg yolk sitting in the pile o' meat.

Want to improve the flavor of your frozen fries? Add some garlic cloves and rosemary during the last few minutes of cooking and toss it all with some good sea salt. Not perfect, but quite nice. Serving them in a parchment paper cone is purely optional, but aesthetically pleasing.

Steak tartare is a lot of work, and I'm not sure that it's worth it for a casual dinner. Mincing the steak by hand, trying to keep everything cold... On top of that, you only need a little bit per person. For some reason, I can easily consume a properly roasted rare 16 oz. prime rib, but I was defeated after three ounces of tartare. It's so rich, so flavorful... think about the difference between eating a grilled filet of salmon and the equivalent amount in sashimi. It's delicious, but if you're not used to consuming a lot of raw flesh it tires you out quickly.

For the wine, I popped open the 2004 Dog House "Zeke's Zin" from the Central and North Coasts of California. $9, 14.4% abv. It's 76% Zinfandel, 11% Syrah, and 9% Petite Sirah. It's got a big blackberry jam profile with hints of coffee afterwards. Still pretty strong after five years, but with a couple of hours of breathing it smoothed out nicely. And proceeds from these wines go to Guide Dogs for the Blind.

I was initially attracted to this wine not because of the producer or the grape, but because it featured a little e-collar around the neck. Any dog owner has come to recognize this item with a mix of sympathy and humor. Even The Roommate, who eschews all forms of alcohol, thought it was adorable, and loved the printing on the collar that said "Two paws up!"

Both of my dogs are fine, but in honor of the pups out there that are recovering from various surgeries, I pulled out their old e-collars for a photo. (The collars were removed shortly after and both boys got treats.) That's Macbeth the fox-red Labrador on the left and Wolfgang the mutt on the right. Two good dogs who guard the wine stash when I'm away from home.

I picked up this wine at Whiskers Wine & Spirits in Cordova. The owners are animal lovers and are engaged in various fundraising activities for the local Humane Society and other related causes. In a gesture that might bring a tear to your eye, they've got an entire wall devoted to a memorial mural called the "Rainbow Bridge" where customers can post photos of deceased pets.

Dry-Aging Steak

Right off the bat I need to point out that this is not real dry aging. To do that properly you need a room that is at 50% humidity and is held just above freezing. Beef halves or primals are aged for weeks in such an environment, which promotes the growth of beneficial fungi, removes moisture from the meat, and intensifies the flavor. Then later on, the primals are trimmed and individual steaks are cut off and you buy them for $50-100 each at premium steakhouses.

There are ways to fake this at home with a single steak, though it works better with one steak that's big enough to feed two or three. You'll want to use a thick cut of meat, like a custom cut ribeye or sirloin. Or you can do what I did and pick up a clearance 1.5 lb. Porterhouse that's already beginning to brown a little. As soon as you get it home, dry it off with paper towels, place it on a rack over a plate or tray, and salt and pepper both sides. Chuck it in the fridge, uncovered, for an overnight rest. After only 18 hours you can already see that it is taking on the appearance of a dry-aged steak.

NOTE: If you have anything funky in your fridge, the steak will pick up those flavors. Likewise, your eggs, butter, and even ice cubes might take on a somewhat beefy aroma.

Before cooking, you'll want to put the rack/tray/steak combo in the freezer for about an hour. This is a tip from Cooks Illustrated, who suggest the technique for Argentine-style steak. This wicks away additional moisture, and keeping the center cold will help you produce a browned crust and a rare interior (i.e. maximum flavor).

Then let it warm up for another hour, heat up the oven to its lowest setting, and get a big skillet nice and hot. I used canola oil, but peanut oil or anything with a high smoke point will work. Once the skillet is hot, add a bit of oil, spread it around the pan, and toss in the steak. After a few minutes, remove the steak to the rack/tray and let the pan come back to temperature. Then sear the other side. You should get a rich brown crust, and you should start getting hungry. Slide the rack on top of the skillet, insert a probe thermometer, and then roast the steak as shown in the oven until it reaches an internal temperature of 50°C/125°F. When done, remove and allow to rest for ten minutes.

The joy of the Porterhouse is that you can carve off sections of filet or strip, and there are parts that are rare to medium depending on where you slice. Thus it's great for feeding a couple of people that have differing preferences. Here I've sliced off some portions of the strip--tender, buttery, unbelievably beefy, and oh so delicious. The previous photo shows the crust during resting, but this closeup of some slices shows how there's an even rare (not raw) consistency throughout the meat.

Is this method for everyone? Certainly not. There's a big difference between aged and rotten. You need the olfactory experience to tell the difference. Dry-aging beef or venison or even curing pork produces a range of savory, meaty aromas that can be off putting if you're used to the freshly butchered wet stuff. But there is a difference, and once you've come to enjoy it, it's hard to go back.

ADDENDUM: Paul ran a test for me with a ribeye and a digital scale. After patting it dry, the steak massed 215g. After 30 minutes in the freezer, it was 214g--practically no difference, except that he claimed a texture change from his normal method. I think the refrigerator helps, and Alton Brown has shown proof of that method in actual recorded moisture loss in his ribeye roast episode. I'll let America's Test Kitchen or Mythbusters hash this out in the future, but for now it's a fun new way for me to fix a steak, and I've been happy with the results. In a month I'll go back to the best method: spearing on a pitchfork and dipping in boiling oil.

Online Cava Tasting + A Great Dinner for Two

On Thursday, July 22 at 7:00 p.m. (CDT), I'll be hosting an online tasting at Whining & Dining, the food blog of my hometown newspaper The Commercial Appeal. Normally I don't post notes ahead of time, but I happened to pick up an extra bottle and decided to serve it for yet another entry in the Dinner with Lady A series.

For this particular tasting, I selected the NV Segura Viudas Aria Estate Brut from the Penedès region of northeast Spain. $12, 11.5% abv. 60% Macabeo, 20% Parellada, and 20% Xarel-lo. This Cava is crisp with firm lemony acidity and nice small bubbles. Not quite as creamy as a high end Champagne, but more in that direction rather than cheaper fizz with giant bubbles. Slightly nutty, with almost an almond flavor in the background. Excellent quality/price ratio, and a good sort of bottle to keep around for casual drinking.

As a twist, I'm also suggesting that people pick up a little 200mL bottle of Crème de Cassis to make a classic cocktail. Kir is just white wine with cassis liqueur, and most people know the bubbly version as a Kir Royale. Technically that's only made with Champagne--with any other sparkling wine it's merely a Kir Pétillant.

How much to add? Just pour a capful in the bottom of the glass, then pour in the sparkling wine. The strength of the kir is really up to personal preference; as long as you're between the color of cooked salmon and smoked salmon you're in the right range. Obviously more cassis will increase the sweetness and black currant flavor, and you can always add some more of either ingredient if you need to balance it to your liking. It's a lot of fun, it's a great use for leftover sparkling wine, and the liqueur will keep forever in the cabinet.

With the Cava, I served blackened barramundi. I've had this fish a few times in restaurants, and have recently discovered it in the frozen fillets section of the grocery store. It's always nice to buy fresh fish, but on the other hand I try to stock up the freezer with a variety of different fish, the kind simply vacuum-sealed in clear plastic with a small white label. Makes it easy to inspect the quality and proportions of the fillet. Here I just brushed it with a little butter, dusted on the blackening spices, and gave it a quick char on each side. This fish was fairly lean, and I went easy on the butter so it wasn't too heavy for a first course. Spicy food traditionally goes great with sparkling wine, and while I didn't pile on the heat here, it was still a harmonious pairing.

With the second course, another bottle of wine was needed. While getting the Cava at Kirby Wines (big thanks to Angela Moon for help selecting both!) I also picked up the 2007 Cupcake Petite Sirah from the Central Coast of California. $12, 13.5% abv. Smooth and relaxing, violets, blueberries, currants, touch of chocolate. Really great value and perfectly aged wine. This wine is so mellow that you'd never guess it came from a powerful grape like Petite Sirah.

I like to try different things with steak. Here I took a thick ribeye, cut it in half to form two smaller steaks, and trimmed them up a bit. Both were marinated in soy sauce and Worcestershire sauce, and then wrapped in bacon. I baked the steaks at low temperature until rare, and then let them rest. When it was time for serving, I threw them under the broiler to crisp up the bacon and produce a nice crust. Quick, simple, and perfect when you're entertaining someone.

I topped the steaks with onion marmalade. This is one of the most stupidly easy things to make, and you're liable to find all the necessary ingredients in any kitchen. Here I used white onions, red and white wine vinegar, and threw in a splash of the red wine for flavor. You really can't screw this up, and it's so delicious. Save the leftovers to spread on toast in the morning, where it makes a nice little onion tart. The carrots were just boiled for a bit, drained, and then pan fried with just a dab of butter and some dried thyme. A simple and elegant companion to the rich and savory steak. Lady A was particularly happy with the way the steak came out, and hadn't had the marmalade before.

Per the usual arrangement, I put her in charge of dessert. Almond croissants topped with a little powdered sugar. About an hour after dinner, I warmed them up in the oven and threw a little ice cream on the side. Oh, pure heaven. Flaky, buttery, rich and delicious.

Once again, a successful and interesting dinner for two with a pair of great yet inexpensive wines. Please feel free to pick up a bottle of the Aria and join us on the 22nd for the online tasting--no login or registration required, just go to the Whining & Dining site, pop open your wine, and join the online conversation about the wine and cocktail.

Breakfast With My Brother

My brother John works night shifts, and last year I decided to surprise him with an invite for a little wine dinner at 4 a.m. I hadn't had the opportunity to hang out with him for a few months, and decided to replicate the experience.

This time the wine isn't quite as fancy, but it turned out to be a great one. I've got a soft spot for Paso Robles red blends, and this one did not disappoint. The 2005 Bishop's Peak Rock Solid Red was a steal on clearance at $10 (down from $15). 14% abv. 46% Cabernet Sauvignon, 28% Syrah, 23% Cabernet Franc, and 3% Petite Sirah. You never know with those bottles that end up on the sale rack, but this one aged well and had the structure to last until 2010. Soft and low tannins, full fruit flavors of black cherry, plums, and stewed fruit. I'm not going to recommend it for a typical breakfast, but with the more dinner-oriented meal we had it was a great match.

Needless to say, the meal was somewhat above the freeze-dried mystery rations we had to eat during a mountain backpacking trip in New Mexico. As I was on the tail end of housesitting for Paul and with the commandment to clean out the cupboard and larder, I defrosted a 2 lb. ribeye. I thoroughly covered it with Penzey's Northwoods seasoning and slow roasted it for a few hours until medium rare, and sliced it down the middle for two thick portions. For sides, I fried up sliced fingerling potatoes in a cast iron skillet and braised some baby bok choy with soy sauce. To top the beef, homemade red onion marmalade and a fresh sour cream-horseradish sauce.

Despite all of that description, you can't really see any of the food in this picture. But you can see a hungry and happy brother that had spent eight hours toiling in the dark. He put up with my early days of cooking when the results were often unpredictable and occasionally inedible, so the least I can do is put a good meal in the boy once in a while.

2007 Montevina Merlot

Even though I rarely follow recipes precisely and have a cavalier attitude towards measuring ingredients, I think it's always a good idea to read recipes for new flavor combinations. Thus I discovered anchovy butter as a topping for steak. It's a great savory mix of butter, fish, and garlic, but I didn't like the recipe as written. I tripled the garlic, doubled the anchovies, and didn't rinse the little fishes. Why waste any of that great flavor?

Making the butter was easy, I just used a firm spoon and a bowl. Partway through the process it smells like the dumpster behind a cheap seafood joint, but keep mixing and it settles down. I broiled a couple of Delmonico steaks* and served a healthy knob of the anchovy butter on each one.

It tastes great, but of the various compound butters I've made and tried over the years, I think sage butter and red wine butter are better candidates. Yes, this had a salty/savory/umami quality to it, but it's harder to make than the other compound butters and I can't see it being a successful menu item anywhere. Plus you end up with a good bit of leftover anchovy butter, and it's difficult to find other uses before it goes south.

With the steak I served the 2007 Montevina Merlot from California, $12, 13.7% abv. Touches of coffee and spice on the nose, with flavors of black cherry, jam, medium tannins. A pretty basic and drinkable California red wine.

I've included a closeup here, because this is a gorgeous label that evokes old stock certificates, currency, and California fruit crate labeling. But it has a fatal flaw: the date (click the picture to enlarge). Many wineries use "shells": loads of label sheets printed and then later overstamped with the vintage as needed. You see this a lot in French wines, with the year in red. I'm not against the practice, but two things made it difficult here. For one, you're printing on top of other ink, which is always problematic, and two, the designer made an ornate but painfully small target for the printer to hit. Even under the best conditions this would be hard to pull off properly, and you can see the result here. The ink has bled, the registration is off, and the end result looks like the sloppy application of a hand stamp.

I'm not assessing blame to one specific group here, though having worked as both a designer and a press operator I'm going to say that the pressmen probably did the best they could under the circumstances. The design would have been unified if the year could have been printed in brown along with the rest of the label, perhaps with a few separate runs to cover the next few years. Or it would have been easy enough to fill up that corner with the script text or simply leave it blank, and save the vintage to go along with the grape name on the separate lower label. "2007 Merlot" would have been elegant and informative in reversed white text.

At some point a compromise was reached and the result is a flawed label.

It wouldn't have bothered me if this were just another mediocre label, but I really love this design. Someone obviously worked very hard to create this look and feel, with the kind of engraving that was more common a century ago. It is otherwise perfect... It pains me that the only people who will really appreciate the layout are likewise going to notice the scarred vintage.


*There are many definitions of the Delmonico steak, but this one was a ribeye from the portion near the chuck roast. My local Schnuck's carries them occasionally, and always at a dollar less per pound than the ribeyes. It's difficult to tell the difference just from looking. The shape on this one is a bit odd as I'd trimmed off a third for The Roommate, who just wanted a small steak without anchovy butter.

Benito vs. the Raw Beef: Steak Tartare

I've said this before and I'll say it again: one of the joys of cooking is that you don't need to travel to a fancy restaurant to try a fabled dish if you've got access to the proper ingredients and have the requisite skills and determination. With that in mind, I recently attempted steak tartare. Naturally, I followed Bourdain's recipe from the Les Halles Cookbook.

My first introduction to the dish was actually on the playground in elementary school. Lest you assume that I attended an elite branch of the Lycée Français, this culinary lesson took the form of arguments over them damned Europeans eating raw beef, and eventually a library encyclopedia settled the issue. For years afterward I assumed that the French and Germans always ate raw meat. Fast forward to 2009, and I've become that which terrified me. And I like fresh mayonnaise on my fries. What happened to that all-American lad?

While we're talking about childhood, I'll also note that this dish will disappoint both of my parents. Mom has strict rules against raw meat and raw eggs, and Dad can't stand mayonnaise. (Family dinners are harmonious, fear not--Mom's steak just goes on the grill long before the rest of ours, and Dad just avoids cold salads that are bound together with mayo.)

But I did make the mayo from scratch, and divided the batch into two parts, one of which was seasoned with Sriracha. I left the diced shallots and cornichons on the side to allow for desired mixing at the table, but I loved the presentation of the egg yolk sitting in the pile o' meat.

Want to improve the flavor of your frozen fries? Add some garlic cloves and rosemary during the last few minutes of cooking and toss it all with some good sea salt. Not perfect, but quite nice. Serving them in a parchment paper cone is purely optional, but aesthetically pleasing.

Steak tartare is a lot of work, and I'm not sure that it's worth it for a casual dinner. Mincing the steak by hand, trying to keep everything cold... On top of that, you only need a little bit per person. For some reason, I can easily consume a properly roasted rare 16 oz. prime rib, but I was defeated after three ounces of tartare. It's so rich, so flavorful... think about the difference between eating a grilled filet of salmon and the equivalent amount in sashimi. It's delicious, but if you're not used to consuming a lot of raw flesh it tires you out quickly.

For the wine, I popped open the 2004 Dog House "Zeke's Zin" from the Central and North Coasts of California. $9, 14.4% abv. It's 76% Zinfandel, 11% Syrah, and 9% Petite Sirah. It's got a big blackberry jam profile with hints of coffee afterwards. Still pretty strong after five years, but with a couple of hours of breathing it smoothed out nicely. And proceeds from these wines go to Guide Dogs for the Blind.

I was initially attracted to this wine not because of the producer or the grape, but because it featured a little e-collar around the neck. Any dog owner has come to recognize this item with a mix of sympathy and humor. Even The Roommate, who eschews all forms of alcohol, thought it was adorable, and loved the printing on the collar that said "Two paws up!"

Both of my dogs are fine, but in honor of the pups out there that are recovering from various surgeries, I pulled out their old e-collars for a photo. (The collars were removed shortly after and both boys got treats.) That's Macbeth the fox-red Labrador on the left and Wolfgang the mutt on the right. Two good dogs who guard the wine stash when I'm away from home.

I picked up this wine at Whiskers Wine & Spirits in Cordova. The owners are animal lovers and are engaged in various fundraising activities for the local Humane Society and other related causes. In a gesture that might bring a tear to your eye, they've got an entire wall devoted to a memorial mural called the "Rainbow Bridge" where customers can post photos of deceased pets.

Benito vs. the Porterhouse: Vertical Steak

One of the reasons why I've never been attracted to restaurant work is that I get tired of cooking the same ingredient the same way, over and over again. Even when I perfect a technique through practice, I'm generally ready to move on to the next challenge. In this case, I decided to cook the steak vertically. It wasn't thick enough to stand up on its own, so with the addition of a bamboo chopstick I was able to provide some stability. I slow cooked the 2½ lb. monster at the "Warm" setting of the oven (around 175°F) until the probe thermometer read a lovely rare 125°F internal temperature.

I was pleased with the final result. The major benefit of this method is that it slowly renders out some of the fat while providing even cooking all around. Downside? You can really only do it with a thick Porterhouse or T-Bone. I think a ribeye hung from a hook or string might just fall off due to tenderness. The steak carved up nicely, easily feeding three people with leftovers for salads the next day... and one diner gnawed on the bone for some of those hard-to-reach morsels. (No shame in that, I've done it myself many times.) For sides, I steamed broccolini with lemon wedges and roasted my dear golden beets for an hour before slicing them up and further cooking with olive oil and Chinese five-spice powder.

We tried a couple of wines that evening, but the others go along with future themed posts. However, the odd man out was the NV True Earth Red Blend $13, Mendocino, California. 52% Cabernet Sauvignon, 43% Merlot, 5% Petite Sirah. This is a 100% organic offering from the irreverent guys at Three Thieves. Black pepper, cherry, creamy finish, tart raspberry elements. On the old Venn diagram it falls smack dab in the center of bargain, organic, and mass-produced, what some call "corporate organic". But it's a fun little wine that will be great with burgers from the grill later this summer. Whether those burgers are made from cheap ground beef or free-range buffalo is your choice entirely.

Benito vs. the Plastic Bag: Sous Vide at Home

It's been a while since I did something crazy in the kitchen, so Friday night I decided to switch up the old steak routine and attempt sous vide at home. For those of you unfamiliar with the technique, it's basically poaching an ingredient sealed in plastic at a low temperature for a long period of time. A more refined version of "boil in the bag", popular at cafeterias worldwide.

I'm hardly breaking new ground here, as many bloggers have experimented with various ingredients and techniques. After a perusal of the literature, I took a pair of ribeyes and put them in Ziploc Freezer Bags with just a dash of sea salt and Worcestershire sauce. (These bags are rated to 170°F, but in general you're only supposed to do this with specially designed plastic. And there's chances of all sorts of bacterial horrors, so kids, don't try this at home.) I had three gallons of water sitting at 140°F for about an hour learning how to regulate the temperature--with the inset strainer, I was able to stand up the bags and prevent them from touching the hot bottom of the pot. I used a digital probe thermometer to monitor the water temperature, and through use of adjusting the knob and adding ice cubes, I was able to keep the temp pretty close to my target.

The steaks sat in the bath for about two hours, were allowed to rest, and then I seared them in a very hot skillet. Just long enough to brown the exterior, not to do any actual cooking. At right you can see a close-up after I cut into the steak: it's a nice medium rare, even throughout. The biggest surprise was that it had the soft texture and buttery fat of prime rib, which is difficult to achieve with a single steak. It was very tasty, but I wouldn't recommend the method for everyday use. While fun from a science project standpoint, it's a lot of work to keep the temperature right and it takes forever. Professional kitchens fond of sous vide have industrial water baths that circulate the water, use thermostats, and can tie in microprobes to get the internal temperature of the ingredients.

If you want to play with this yourself, just search Google and you'll find lots of home kitchen experiments. Again, there are some dangers, and you want to be careful with your plastic selections. I'm not suggesting you try it, and the FDA has been against it for years, only recently allowing it under certain very strict conditions.

For the wine I decanted a bottle of the 2004 Sawyer Cellars Estate Bradford Meritage from Napa Valley, California. 52% Cabernet Sauvignon 31% Merlot, 4% Cabernet Franc, 13% Petit Verdot. $44, less than 1000 cases made. Cherry and plum aromas with a touch of fennel. Medium tannins, and as the flavor opened up, it displayed notes of bell pepper and black tea. It's obviously delicious now, but could definitely hang around for a few more years.

Through a combination of luck and generosity I've had a good bit of Napa wine recently, and after trekking the tastebuds through every obscure corner of the wine world it's nice to step back and study some serious, well-made wines in the classical tradition.