There’s this poor old nag, who’s worked on a farm in deepest Romania all his life, but can’t work anymore. So he’s shipped off by lorry to a meat factory many hundreds of miles away in the South of France, along with a lot of his mates, where he’s slaughtered and cut into chunks. These chunks are boxed and labelled with the word BEEF and carted off to a food manufacturer in Luxembourg who minces the meat and adds it to lots of other ingredients, many of them with E-numbers and/or highly chemical-sounding names, and Lo! all this turns up as an attractively packed frozen ready-meal in the good old UK. Yummy.
A few weeks ago, before all this horsemeat fuss, I had occasion to buy a ready-meal for my lunch. Spaghetti Bolognese it called itself. It was a travesty of what should be a tasty and nourishing mince of beef and vegetables – gloppy flour-based gravy with fibrous bits of what the label announced was “beef” floating about which tasted like wood shavings. Pure laziness on my part to buy such a dish – I pride myself on my meat sauce, which being the poseur I am I call “Ragu”.
So perhaps this affair hasn’t come too soon. Maybe it will persuade shoppers to consider cooking rather than defrosting or warming up. What is certain is that ready meals like Bolognese and Lasagne will cost more, because the supermarkets will have to be sure they are buying properly sourced beef. And while we’re at it, perhaps we should look a little more closely into what we buy, and find local produce?
A lot of the fuss has been whipped up by the media, coupled with the strange feeling of British people that there is something terrible about eating horses. We may well be eating donkey if we buy Italian Salami. So what? If you are a carnivore, I see no difference in principle between eating calf, cow, pig, donkey or horse. When I were a lad, in London’s Soho there were a couple of horsemeat butchers and a horsemeat restaurant. From time to time I enjoyed a medium-rare horse steak, as they do in the present day in France and other countries.
This week’s Emails and post brought the same letter from a supermarket group, apologising for the fact that “up to 10% of pork” had been found in their own-brand beef meatballs. I laughed. I felt like replying that a proper meat ball is 40% pork, 40% beef and 20% veal. Usually, though, I make mine with 50-50 beef and pork – it’s a Swedish recipe and delicious.
Anyway, it’s 100% pure beef for me this week. A lovely piece of braising steak, reared just down the road – from my local butcher, Stannard & Sons in Saxmundham, and costing exactly the same per kilo as a pack of supermarket stewing steak. You pays your money and you takes your choice.
A smile on the face of the guv’nor, butcher Kevin Stannard as he tells you about his meat – all local.
I have to disclose that I adore onions – fried, boiled, baked; whole, halved or sliced; hot or cold – and that combined with beef you have the basis of some simply wonderful dishes. Even an indifferent Chinese restaurant finds it difficult to spoil stir-fried beef and onions, whilst a grilled slice of fillet or rump steak can’t fail to be enhanced by a pile of sliced and gently fried onions. And, then, together they make a “fine fat stew”, and cou ntries all over the world have their special recipes. One way I like is how they do it in Belgium, where they stew or casserole beef and onions in the local brown beer. It’s an easy dish to cook (allow a couple of hours in the oven), and it is a very tolerant one. It will stay in fine condition for some hours if kept warm and can also be re-heated, gently but thoroughly, very well. So it’s good for when you have people in for a meal.
My personal preference is to cook my Carbonnade in the oven, I like the flavour of casseroling, but it is more expensive than cooking it slowly on the top of the stove at a low heat, when it will have a “stew” flavour. You decide! Either way it’s good grub
The Makings – what you need for your Carbonnade.
Ingredients for 4-6 portions (about 20 minutes to prepare)
1 k / 2 lb 4 oz lean stewing beef, cut in to cubes
500 g / 1 lb 2 oz medium onions, peeled and sliced
2 tbsp olive oil or 50 grams of dripping or rendered beef fat
60 cl / 20 fl oz brown ale or other slightly sweet brown beer
1 tsp sugar (if using a dry beer)
1 des-spn red wine vinegar
1 des-spn flour
1 bay leaf and a pinch of thyme
A few gratings of nutmeg (or a couple of pinches of powdered)
Salt and pepper
Method
1. Heat the oven to 170?C
2. Cut the meat into 2.5cm (1-inch) square cubes and sprinkle with a little pepper. I think this is a good size for the pieces of meat, but some people prefer larger chunks – the choice is yours.
3. Heat the fat or oil in a deep oven-proof saucepan with lid and fry the onions until they are going golden.
4. Remove from the pan and set aside.
5. On quite a high heat, stir-fry the meat cubes until they are browned all over.
6. Return the onions to the pan, stir and add the flour and sugar (if using), salt, nutmeg and herbs. Stir gently and well.
7. Add the beer.
8. Put the lid on the pan and cook in the oven for around two hours. Check and stir from time to time.
Depending on the cut of the meat you may need less or more time. If you are using a good frying steak, it will be cooked in a little more than an hour.
Plain boiled, or jacket potatoes will “sup up” the delicious gravy perfectly. I happen to like pasta, such as Tagliatelle.. Some small florets of quickly cooked crisp broccoli would complement the meat and your chosen starch very well.
Served with a nice baked spud………or… if you prefer with pasta: tagliatelle.
To drink with your beef?
The beer you cook the Carbonnade in will be a good match. If you prefer wine, there are plenty of reds that will match, so it depends on your pocket and personal taste. My own choice would be a reasonably priced Argentine Malbec (under £8.00). This is a rounded, interesting grape, “the” red of Argentina, you might say, good fruit, nice balance and body.
PLENTY TO BEEF ABOUT
There’s this poor old nag, who’s worked on a farm in deepest Romania all his life, but can’t work anymore. So he’s shipped off by lorry to a meat factory many hundreds of miles away in the South of France, along with a lot of his mates, where he’s slaughtered and cut into chunks. These chunks are boxed and labelled with the word BEEF and carted off to a food manufacturer in Luxembourg who minces the meat and adds it to lots of other ingredients, many of them with E-numbers and/or highly chemical-sounding names, and Lo! all this turns up as an attractively packed frozen ready-meal in the good old UK. Yummy.
A few weeks ago, before all this horsemeat fuss, I had occasion to buy a ready-meal for my lunch. Spaghetti Bolognese it called itself. It was a travesty of what should be a tasty and nourishing mince of beef and vegetables – gloppy flour-based gravy with fibrous bits of what the label announced was “beef” floating about which tasted like wood shavings. Pure laziness on my part to buy such a dish – I pride myself on my meat sauce, which being the poseur I am I call “Ragu”.
So perhaps this affair hasn’t come too soon. Maybe it will persuade shoppers to consider cooking rather than defrosting or warming up. What is certain is that ready meals like Bolognese and Lasagne will cost more, because the supermarkets will have to be sure they are buying properly sourced beef. And while we’re at it, perhaps we should look a little more closely into what we buy, and find local produce?
A lot of the fuss has been whipped up by the media, coupled with the strange feeling of British people that there is something terrible about eating horses. We may well be eating donkey if we buy Italian Salami. So what? If you are a carnivore, I see no difference in principle between eating calf, cow, pig, donkey or horse. When I were a lad, in London’s Soho there were a couple of horsemeat butchers and a horsemeat restaurant. From time to time I enjoyed a medium-rare horse steak, as they do in the present day in France and other countries.
This week’s Emails and post brought the same letter from a supermarket group, apologising for the fact that “up to 10% of pork” had been found in their own-brand beef meatballs. I laughed. I felt like replying that a proper meat ball is 40% pork, 40% beef and 20% veal. Usually, though, I make mine with 50-50 beef and pork – it’s a Swedish recipe and delicious.
Anyway, it’s 100% pure beef for me this week. A lovely piece of braising steak, reared just down the road – from my local butcher, Stannard & Sons in Saxmundham, and costing exactly the same per kilo as a pack of supermarket stewing steak. You pays your money and you takes your choice.
A smile on the face of the guv’nor, butcher Kevin Stannard as he tells you about his meat – all local.
I have to disclose that I adore onions – fried, boiled, baked; whole, halved or sliced; hot or cold – and that combined with beef you have the basis of some simply wonderful dishes. Even an indifferent Chinese restaurant finds it difficult to spoil stir-fried beef and onions, whilst a grilled slice of fillet or rump steak can’t fail to be enhanced by a pile of sliced and gently fried onions. And, then, together they make a “fine fat stew”, and cou ntries all over the world have their special recipes. One way I like is how they do it in Belgium, where they stew or casserole beef and onions in the local brown beer. It’s an easy dish to cook (allow a couple of hours in the oven), and it is a very tolerant one. It will stay in fine condition for some hours if kept warm and can also be re-heated, gently but thoroughly, very well. So it’s good for when you have people in for a meal.
My personal preference is to cook my Carbonnade in the oven, I like the flavour of casseroling, but it is more expensive than cooking it slowly on the top of the stove at a low heat, when it will have a “stew” flavour. You decide! Either way it’s good grub
The Makings – what you need for your Carbonnade.
Ingredients for 4-6 portions (about 20 minutes to prepare)
1 k / 2 lb 4 oz lean stewing beef, cut in to cubes
500 g / 1 lb 2 oz medium onions, peeled and sliced
2 tbsp olive oil or 50 grams of dripping or rendered beef fat
60 cl / 20 fl oz brown ale or other slightly sweet brown beer
1 tsp sugar (if using a dry beer)
1 des-spn red wine vinegar
1 des-spn flour
1 bay leaf and a pinch of thyme
A few gratings of nutmeg (or a couple of pinches of powdered)
Salt and pepper
Method
1. Heat the oven to 170?C
2. Cut the meat into 2.5cm (1-inch) square cubes and sprinkle with a little pepper. I think this is a good size for the pieces of meat, but some people prefer larger chunks – the choice is yours.
3. Heat the fat or oil in a deep oven-proof saucepan with lid and fry the onions until they are going golden.
4. Remove from the pan and set aside.
5. On quite a high heat, stir-fry the meat cubes until they are browned all over.
6. Return the onions to the pan, stir and add the flour and sugar (if using), salt, nutmeg and herbs. Stir gently and well.
7. Add the beer.
8. Put the lid on the pan and cook in the oven for around two hours. Check and stir from time to time.
Depending on the cut of the meat you may need less or more time. If you are using a good frying steak, it will be cooked in a little more than an hour.
Plain boiled, or jacket potatoes will “sup up” the delicious gravy perfectly. I happen to like pasta, such as Tagliatelle.. Some small florets of quickly cooked crisp broccoli would complement the meat and your chosen starch very well.
Served with a nice baked spud………or… if you prefer with pasta: tagliatelle.
To drink with your beef?
The beer you cook the Carbonnade in will be a good match. If you prefer wine, there are plenty of reds that will match, so it depends on your pocket and personal taste. My own choice would be a reasonably priced Argentine Malbec (under £8.00). This is a rounded, interesting grape, “the” red of Argentina, you might say, good fruit, nice balance and body.