The Goal: Silky, paper thin, marinated, air-dried beef from the river cottage meat book
Remember the huge crush I have on Paul Bertolli? And his tomatoes 12 ways project? And my idea to copy his idea using beef instead of tomatoes?
You thought I forgot about it didn’t you? Well, I admit I’ve been slow to come up with a new way, but not to worry; I’m on it now. And I’m especially excited about this one.
Everyone loves prosciutto, the paper-thin, silky, salty, air-cured ham from Italy. But prosciutto’s less known beef cousin bresaola can be just as amazing.
Of course, leave it to our Italian friends to turn thinly sliced air-cured beef drizzled with olive oil & lemon juice into an art form while our American version of dried beef is known by millions of GIs as the main ingredient in a dish called Shit on a Shingle. What can I say? It doesn’t have to be that way…
Since I’m out of everything but burger at the moment, my eye of round is from Ron Gargasz Organic Farms just outside Slippery Rock, PA. Now, don’t tell the Ladies I said this, and if you do I’ll never admit it, but the Angus cows at Ron Gargasz’s farm are pretty amazing too. They’ve never eaten anything but organic grass and hay grown right there at home and lead companionable, social lives. With plenty of doting too…
So, with a beautiful, grass-fed organic eye of round in my freezer, I’m not about to waste a chance to take an imaginary road trip to Italy.
The esteemed panel of experts on my bookshelf had much to say about making Bresaola. Sadly, just like he did when I made consommé, Paul Bertolli left me to fend for myself. But Darina Allen, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, Josh and Jessica Applestone and Michael Ruhlman; they all had lots of good advice.
All four books have great recipes and a slightly different take on making bresaola. I had a hard time making up my mind which one to follow, but ended up with Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. My super-close second was the Applestone’s recipe which was the only one to call for cold smoking the roast before air drying. Very intriguing and I will be trying it soon.
Why was I so taken with HFW’s recipe? The brine was a little more elaborate, without being ridiculous. I always hate to over season well-raised beef because I think it tastes so great as it is. But the small amount of lemon zest, orange zest, bay leaves, black pepper and red pepper flakes in the wine & salt brine seemed like just the right blend to really call attention to the beef. You may not agree, but I think there’s something magic about the combo of beef and orange zest… add red pepper flakes and oh, my.
So this week, I mixed up my brine and soaked that roast turning twice a day. Tomorrow begins the tricky air-drying process which will last three to four weeks. Then, if I don’t blow it, comes the best part of all, eating the bresaola!
Very exciting stuff for me. I know. I know. I SHOULD get out more.
If you missed my other beefy adventures, here they are:
Beef & Pork Belly Dan Barber’s Way
Corned Beef Tongue & Red Flannel Hash
Creamy Corned Beef (Tongue) Spread
Oxtail Consommé & My Very Favorite Ravioli Filling
THINKING THURSDAY: SOMETHING TO PONDER IN THE WORLD OF FOOD AND FARMING.
Have you heard? The New York Times is calling all carnivores to tell them why we believe it is ethical to eat meat.
Since this is a topic front and center in my mind nearly every day and I planned to discuss it with you anyway, how about right now?
The stingy 600 word limit was a real hardship for a chatty girl like myself; hopefully Word’s word count tool is accurate! I sent my blood, sweat and tears off into the electronic sunset, and from there, who knows?
Weigh in with your opinions in the comments below, but do play nice. I’m anxious to hear your thoughts on the matter.
So, here it is; my big New York Times minute:
This question of whether it is ethical to eat meat cannot be deeply understood by anyone with clean hands.
My point? A formal decree from above is not coming. Fancy panel of judges or no, there isn’t a single right answer to this dilemma. Like death itself, we each have to wrestle this contradiction alone. The real ethical question?
Will we humble ourselves by taking a ruthlessly honest look at the toll our lives extract from others? My guess is we’d rather shield ourselves from introspection with dueling data, finger-pointing and clever bumper-sticker retorts.
Nature has an uncomplicated relationship with death. Nobody, two-legged or four is spared. We try hard to find a loophole, and Nature humors us. But she never lets us hide from her truth for long.
To Nature, death is just part of life. Creatures are born, creatures die. The dead feed the living and the living eventually become the dead. Nature builds in harsh but perfect circles, not the logjams and cul-de-sacs we construct to avoid uncomfortable truths.
Remember the scene in the movie Cold Mountain where the old lady kills the goat? The loving kindness the Goat-lady gave that trusting goat as she pierced its heart is a stunning moment. Is it cruel betrayal or the heartfelt kindness of a true shepherd? That goat didn’t suffer one bit, but sweetly laid down its head in eternal sleep, feeling safe in the trusted shelter of the Goat-lady’s lap.
Somehow, the intentionality of the Goat-Lady’s act really jams our brains. The abrupt killing contradicts the peaceful mercy of that death. The dichotomy rocks our certainty. We’d rather cover our eyes.
I raise cattle with love and tenderness, and I admit I cry every time I deliver one to slaughter. I don’t like slick words like “harvested” or “processed”. I prefer the unvarnished facts. A cow was killed because I decided it would be so. I won’t shirk my sadness or culpability with a perky elevator speech selling the rightness of my decision.
My beautiful, one-and-a-half-inch thick piece of well-raised beef is carefully cooked: rare with a perfectly browned crust. I eat my steak mindfully with gratitude and pleasure. That steak is meaningful to me. I appreciate its full, bittersweet cost and I don’t waste a single scrap. It’s delicious.
Recently, I plowed a field so I could plant some Monsanto-free organic vegetables. A commendable act most Vegans would agree. In doing so, I disturbed nests of bunnies and a home some peace-loving groundhogs have enjoyed for some time. It was traumatic for those little creatures, and the hawks that trawl my pastures were elated. Thanks to my vegetables, there was a new all you can eat buffet in town. I didn’t kill anything myself, but I knew creatures would be living there. They live everywhere. Ethical?
We need to step away from our computers, books and chattering brains and deepen our understanding of Nature’s ways. Only by maintaining a distant, academic understanding of Nature can you believe in the moral superiority of tofu.
When someone comes up with a real, actionable plan to free the animals, not rely on industrial foods and feed the soil in a sustainable way, my mind is open. Today, the most ethical thing I can do is provide a joyful, carefree life for my meat.
In this way, and only this way, I say yes. It is ethical to eat meat. Life is grand, messy, confusing business. I accept my assignment of hands-on, eyes-open, deliberate participation.
That’s as ethical as it gets.
No worries about pink slime when you buy beef from small farms and trusted butchers.
I cannot help but be amazed by how many Google searches there have been for pink slime since Diane Sawyer’s report about this most charming of meat industry secrets. At first I was blushing with the new popularity my little blog had found until I realized it was all just a sad misunderstanding.
I had written this post about the marketing of meat by our local grocery store chain and the carefully crafted language used to head off growing interest in humanely raised grass-fed beef by the grocery store, The Cattlemen’s Beef Board and The National Cattlemen’s Beef Association.
Little did I know, but this week, my article contained all the right words to become an overnight Google sensation: Giant Eagle, pink slime, and beef. I don’t know why this is just today such big news; pink slime has been public knowledge as early as 2002. But, thanks to ABC, today it’s a big deal.
I don’t want to get too scientific here; I am not a scientist. I’ve read quite a few of the articles and I do suspect the indignant exposés are guilty of a little sensationalism of their own. Does pink slime contain the household cleaning agent we’re all envisioning? Or is it just a hazing of ammonia gas? Or maybe a different form of ammonia with a bark much worse than its bite?
This online article, published in 2009 by Food Insight, is a very level-headed explanation about the use of ammonium hydroxide in the food industry. Before you get too lathered up, I recommend you give it a read.
After you’re done getting mad about your ground beef, better check to see if you’ve got any baked goods, cheeses, chocolates, candies like caramel or puddings in your pantry because ammonium hydroxide is commonly used to manufacture those too.
“Ammonia in other forms (e.g., ammonium sulfate, ammonium alginate) is used in condiments, relishes, soy protein concentrates/isolates, snack foods, jams and jellies, and non-alcoholic beverages.
The World Health Organization has listed hundreds of food types that may be processed using ammonium hydroxide when used in accordance with good manufacturing practices. These include dairy products, confections, fruits and vegetables, baked goods, breakfast cereals, eggs, fish, beverages such as sports drinks and beer, and meats.”
Yawn. I’m of the opinion that it doesn’t really matter. Doesn’t matter, not because it’s unimportant, but because this is the sort of thing I expect from industrial food.
Do you really expect big packers to NOT be stretching to feed you every scrap they possibly can? And if they can’t feed it to you, you can be sure they’re feeding it to your pet.
I suspect that the pink slime enhanced beef isn’t all that much more dangerous than any of the other highly processed crap foods we’re eating. But what does bother me, and I think everyone else, is the breach of trust.
They have taken a processed product with massive ick factor, pink slime, and added it to a supposedly unprocessed product, beef. Without labeling it as processed. All government approved.
If you want to be big industry, be proud of your big industry. If your science adds value to your product by making it safer, then that’s great. Share it with pride. Inventing pink slime is no small feat – I
wouldn’t couldn’t have done it, could you?
But, big industry isn’t satisfied with targeting their segment of the market and serving it well. They want to squash and dominate everyone else’s market share too by claiming to be something they can never be; capable of providing the same degree of quality and attention to detail as small artisan craftsmen.
So, they manipulate labeling, crush marketing differentiation by small craft companies, and obscure practices they know don’t sound so friendly or farm-fresh. And they spend millions on media, lobbyists and campaign contributions helping enforce secrecy, silencing competition and buying government support.
Like the old Aesop’s fable about the frog and the scorpion, I suppose to a point I have to accept that’s just the world I live in. I don’t need to know any more about pink slime because I won’t be eating any of it. Or any more than absolutely unavoidable of any other processed foods either.
I buy meat, cheese, eggs & dairy only from farmers or butchers who can tell me all about the provenance of the animals and how they were processed. And I highly recommend you do too.
We’ve seen it again and again, and fortunately for corporations, we Americans have short memories. We’re about to see a circus of backpedaling, distancing, and holier than thou vowing to not serve beef with pink slime from a bunch of restaurants & grocery chains.
And The Cattlemen’s Beef Board and The National Cattlemen’s Beef Association? Well, I’m not sure how they’ll spin this one. I do expect to see plenty of the latest heartwarming Beef Checkoff campaign designed to focus our attention on family cattle farmers and away from the Big Industry hiding behind them.
OK people. Your mission? Go find some well raised meat asap!
If you’re in the Pittsburgh area, contact us for our summer beef offering.
Not from Pittsburgh? Visit www.localharvest.com, or www.eatwild.com to find your local farmer today.
Thinking Thursday: something to ponder in the world of food and farming.
Oh, the difference a well stocked larder makes…
I could not be more thrilled to see the new wave of cookbooks about buying meat directly from farmers and farmers markets and widening our horizons about using more parts of the animal.
I don’t like to focus on the negative, but I have one fairly big complaint.
Many of these books, while making a heart-felt plea for us to change our meat buying priorities towards less quantity and better, more humane quality, are offering proof to many that non-industrial food is elitist. Which is not exactly true.
For example, I recently made a stew from Deborah Krasner’s beautiful book, Good Meat. Yes, it is exactly what it claims to be: a complete guide to sourcing and cooking sustainable meat with more than 200 recipes. A very useful and enjoyable book in many ways. But, I’m a little disappointed about one thing. The recipe for stew called for a little used and affordable cut of beef, but then it also called for many expensive ingredients like capers, black olives, 1 anchovy fillet (which of course came with a few close friends – more ceasar salad anyone??), and red wine. And, it was laborious and time-consuming.
I could have bought a nice rib-eye and called it a day.
I get really frustrated by righteous, flippant comments on Facebook and blogs dismissing the idea of non-industrial food because it’s too expensive. People push back hard when their ways are criticized, and this topic is no exception. Now, don’t get all touchy about what I’m going to say next, but I think we’re firing off our defense before we’ve given the matter real consideration.
It is absolutely true; non-industrial food is more expensive, especially if your approach is to simply swap each item in your standard American diet with its equivalent in artisan, organic goods. Or when you choose recipes like Deborah Krasner’s as your source of everyday eating. Time and time again, people stubbornly trot out this argument in order to be right.
And if you insist on believing this is your only alternative to industrial food, then yes, you are correct. Game over, ding-ding-ding; you win all the Con-Agra foods you can eat.
But as Dr. Phil likes to say, “Do you want to be right, or do you want to get better?” There are other options. We’ve just not been taught to give the matter much thought beyond dutiful reliance on advertisements, talk shows and popular ad-driven magazines for ideas and solutions.
These days, I go to the grocery store less and less. Instead, I hit up farms and farm markets. I grow a kitchen garden. I have a freezer & I can. I found a great local source for grains, flour and organic bulk foods where I buy staples and dry goods in bulk.
And, this is important, I begin by stocking my pantry well with things I like. Then I cook what I have instead of approaching it backwards by wondering what I feel like, finding a recipe then buying a bunch of random and expensive ingredients to follow it.
By stretching the limits of my thinking, today it doesn’t take any longer for me to cook a meal from my pantry than it does for you to call for take out, drive wherever to pick it up and bring it back home.
I fully acknowledge that behind every quick and easy dinner was a project like gardening, canning, or freezing leftovers for future meals. Still and yet, the time investment averages out with fewer random errands here and there. And the quality for the price – well, there simply is no comparison. With a very few exceptions, your home version can always beat the industrial version.
I admit I’ll probably never make a better a twinkie, I’ll leave that one to Hostess. But pop-tarts? DE-lish. Most requested pastry I’ve ever made. Beats that foil-pouched frosted cardboard six ways ‘till Sunday.
A recent peek into my kitchen:
Polenta with tomato sauce: I buy Bob’s Red Mill polenta, make a big batch following the recipe on the bag, let it firm up in a bowl, cut it into quarters and freeze each quarter separately. Later, when I need a quick supper, I thaw what I need, slice into 3/4 inch slices and fry them up in oil in my cast iron skillet. Serve with tomato sauce & parmesan or maple syrup if you like yours sweet. Crispy crusted outside, creamy and comforting inside… good, quick food on the cheap. One quarter serves two, or dinner and breakfast for one.
Home made bread: Store bought bread is a big source of commercial yuk. I rarely eat bread unless I’ve made it myself. I’m not an exceptionally skilled baker and my bread is more everyday than special, but makes the best toast ever. I love the Buttermilk Bread recipe from Artisan Bread in 5 Minutes a Day, bake several loaves at once, freeze all but one and I can go for a week or more. It makes a hearty and filling breakfast. Didn’t eat it all? Easy. Repurpose the stale bread into ready-to-go breadcrumbs in the food processor.
Pickled Egg Sandwiches: I’m a little addicted to these at the moment. It does take some extra time to make a big batch of pickled eggs, but they last for weeks. I’m always trying new ways to eat my yummy eggs and have settled on this as a favorite. Lightly toasting a thick slice of my homemade bread, I slather it with mayonnaise, top with a sliced pickled egg and a generous grind of coarse black pepper or a drizzle of Indian pepper chutney. Yum. They’re good too sliced over a bowl of slaw when I’m suffering from winter fresh veggie blues. Check out Punk Domestics for a bunch of great pickled egg recipes.
Italian Cole Slaw: cabbage is a cheap and nutrient dense vegetable. About this time of year, I am dying for crispy, crunchy, salad-y things. Mayo-free slaw is so fresh, easy, lasts for days and is useful in so many ways. When I’m craving it, I can’t get enough. I eat it plain, slice pickled eggs and carrots on top or add some tart green crunch to a sandwich.
Apples & peanut butter: We’re lucky to have two large orchards nearby. The Ida Reds are still nice and fresh – I like mine small & crispy. One of our orchards also sells fresh ground peanut butter too – a perfect quickie meal. A good store of apples helps get through the lean winter months.
Cheese: Soft cheeses are like a blank canvas – this buttermilk cheese is one of my favorites. It requires no exotic equipment or ingredients. And no extraordinary skills. You can drizzle with honey or maple syrup and serve with fruit, use in baked goods, stuff ravioli or shells, smear with savory things. I like to top saucy dishes with a slice – the sauce and the cheese together make a pretty perfect bite. Or drizzle my cheese with some olive oil, a splash of vinegar & some freshly ground pepper. Have some pickles or preserved peppers & some crusty bread? Yum.
Meatballs: Who doesn’t love meatballs? Always good to have on hand, they freeze easily. Make sure you always have some good sauce, a box of your favorite pasta and some meatballs in the freezer & you’re never unprepared to put a meal on the table fast. Here’s my go-to recipe – Tyler Florence’s Ultimate Spaghetti & Meatballs. One thing I do differently: I prefer to use all ground beef. Taking care to brown the meatballs gently, then finishing in the oven is the secret to a tender, tender meatball. If I have it, a nice splurge is adding grated Parmesan to the meatballs. If I don’t, they’re still pretty awesome. You can also stretch your ground beef further with grains like bulgur or brown rice and I’ll bet nobody will know…
Stew: I happened to have beef so that’s the stew I made. All meats are good for stew and the long, slow braise allows you to use a less expensive piece of meat and still enjoy a top shelf meal. Stretching the meat by adding extra potatoes, carrots or other root vegetables makes it last longer. Use up leftovers from the fridge, make a big batch, eat half and freeze half for later. Stretch it further by serving over grits, rice, pasta, mashed potatoes, pearl barley or bulgur.
A Beef Stew Secret: Oranges are not grown locally in Pennsylvania. For me, they are hard to resist. When I do buy them, I make sure to use every part – peels & all. With a vegetable peeler, peel one continuous spiral of just the orange part of the peel. Toss it on top of your stew as it cooks, removing before serving.
I can go on and on, but you get the picture. As long as my pantry is reasonably well stocked with staples, I don’t even have to do much planning; I always have a fast meal available when I need one. And it costs less. Less in every way; less time, less gas, less indecision.
I’m sure you won’t even have to tax your brain to identify at least one habit you could easily change that would decrease cost, increase nutrition and support local farms. What are some of your favorite pantry standbys?
This post is part of Simple Lives Thursday. What’s that you ask? It’s an ambitious and enlightening collection of posts from bloggers all over about issues near and dear to my heart: real food and natural living. Check it out!
Can you tell I really liked this book? Entertaining, bright and funny...
Bacon, called by some “the gateway meat”, is often the animal flesh that rocks the strongest vegetarian resolve. Crazy as it sounds, my path to beef farming began with my attempts to be a vegetarian. Obviously, a not very good one.
For me, the irresistible wasn’t bacon. It was steak. A manly steak; New York Strip or rib eye, medium rare at most. A beautiful, one-and-a-half-inch thick piece of well-raised beef, sporting a perfectly browned crust and sitting well rested and alone on a generous plate…
I know, I’ve said this before, but it makes me sad that consistent has come to define good with regard to food in America. And that’s exactly and all commodity grain-fed beef has become: consistent. And now, being generations of Americans who have never tasted anything other, we believe tender = mushy, and flavor = rub, marinade and/or sauce when it comes to good beef. Steak as we know it has become the chef’s blank canvas rather than the farmer’s art.
I suppose that’s why a truly extraordinary steak is as rare, haunting and mythic as the Loch Ness Monster. It’s amazing how many people can tell you exactly where and when that nostalgic meal took place. And one man, Mark Schatzker, loves his steak so much, he took it on as a Quest. Capital Q, Quest, that is.
The book Steak: One Man’s Search for the World’s Tastiest Piece of Beef is exactly what it claims to be: Mark Schatzker’s search around the world for the tastiest piece of beef. I’m a bit jealous, I admit, but he writes about it in such an entertaining and conversational way, I almost feel like I got to tag along. He starts in Texas (wow), heads to France (super-wow) where he finds a herd of ancient auroch, then Scotland, home of the esteemed Aberdeen Angus. After that, it’s Italy where I find the words to describe the thoughts I’ve had about my farm.
“There is a term that describes this [a distinctive taste for each distinctive region] phenomenon. It is a foreign word—from France—and one that is often bandied about by pretentious people who stifle the atmosphere at dinner parties. It is, nevertheless, a good word: terroir.”
It is a good word and Mark’s description is the perfect illustration of why I rarely use it. It makes me feel like a pompous ass. But, it is an important word here, since it describes everything I do. Mark’s Italian friend Tilda uses the term “pure savor” which may be even more descriptive to me:
A pure savor is “any food where you can taste the nature that produced it.”
So, “ A Podolica [a breed of cattle indigenous to Italy] steak raised on Monte Tresino is a pure savor, but a feedlot steak from Texas, fed Nebraskan corn, coated with Montreal steak rub and swimming in a puddle of canned broth produced in some unknown factory, is not.”
Now, don’t let me get stuck in Italy. Mark moves on to Japan (fascinating), Argentina (nothing’s sacred), back home to Canada where he raises his own cow, then returns to the Heartland to wrap it up with his American team of grass & beef experts. Each location contributes something unique, insightful and remarkably consistent about what makes the best beef. And, can I share a secret? Not that I recommend it, but:
“Start with good meat and it will be good even if you boil it.”
“The secret to great steak isn’t the thickness, or ultra-low heat or ultra-high heat. It isn’t dry aging, either, which is commendable but overrated— any rib eye that needs to be aged for sixty days isn’t a good rib eye to begin with. The secret to great steak isn’t salting the day before, marinating in olive oil, or any other lost technique from the old country. The secret to great steak is great steak.”
And, the USDA grading system isn’t even close to being comprehensive about what makes meat good. Tip: it’s not all about marbling. Put all your steak buying decisions in the hands of the USDA grading system and you’re pretty much guaranteed to miss out on that elusive, mythic experience of a pure, beefy savor.
Time and time again, the flavor dial tilts in favor of grass-fed. But, some of the worst steaks were also the grass-fed. Grain-fed feedlot beef is easy to make consistent. Rations are mixed to be the same, all you have to do is dump the bucket full of grain into the trough and watch the cows get fat.
Grass-fed beef on the other hand is more complex – it requires the farmer to demonstrate some thoughtfulness and skill. You need to orchestrate your grasses, birth and slaughter times and even deeper, become a master of enriching your soil. Because, it is true that two cows of the same age and breed can consume the same types and quantities of grass but live on different farms. You may expect them to taste the same, but no. They will taste different. The minerals in the soil of their different farms make their contribution to final flavor as does the level of contentment/stress the cows experience.
It takes more than simplified labels to identify good beef. A grass-fed label does not say anything about flavor, quality & texture. It just tells you that cow did not eat grain.
I worry because some of the beef I see being sold as grass-fed has not been finished at all. I know that the farmer simply did not feed his cow grain which means that while it may be healthier, it will not be enjoyable. And you are likely to blame your disappointment on the fact the cow was grass-fed instead of the fact that it was the beef “equivalent of bad home-made wine.” Mark has much to say about this:
“Grass isn’t so easy. Williams likens finishing cattle to playing guitar. ‘Feeding grain,’ he explained to me, ‘is like knowing a few chords and playing an easy song. Finishing on grass is like being a virtuoso.’ ”
“One snowy winter day, I visited a farm where the farmer was letting the wrong kind of cows eat the wrong kind of grass. The farmer and his wife were salt-of-the-earth types-three dogs, five kids-and lived in a hundred-year-old farmhouse. Most of their cows were fed corn, but a few of them ate grass and only grass, because growing numbers of precious foodie types down in the city had been clamoring for healthy, earth-friendly grass-fed beef. I drove back to the city with a grass-fed sirloin and grilled it that night. …While chewing it, I debated whether the meat would make a better sandal or boot.”
So, someone who values well—raised beef and its healthful benefits is in danger of spending good money and getting a disappointing hunk of shoe leather. And, ever after, believe the experience is proof that while grass-fed beef may be better for you, it is more health food than treat. Which is completely false and leaves you in danger of missing out on the best steak experience of your life.
I was pretty excited also to see my belief that old—fashioned unimproved breeds of cattle produce the most memorable beef was confirmed by experts. In particular, the old, un-“improved” British breeds are recognized as being superior in both flavor and texture and science is now beginning to demonstrate why.
Great news for our herd of compact Devon cattle - exactly the type of breed grass-fed beef experts recommend
Our Devons are as close to their original, smaller, slower growing British ancestors as can be. And their milk is high in butterfat, which, surprise surprise, is a significant indicator of good beef.
There is a documented relationship between cows producing milk with high butterfat content and superior marbling. And, a scientific reason the flavor and texture of the meat from smaller breeds who are slower to mature is so much finer.
So, you see, this book means a lot to me, especially since it reassures me that my farming decisions, exploratory and intuitive as they’ve been, are supported with data and the experience of farmers, experts and scientists I don’t get to chat with here in my small town.
Here, I’m the eccentric lady with the herd of “exotics” even though my “exotics” pre-date Roman times and the locally popular and hefty grain-fed Angus Hummers are evolutionary babies. I could go on and on and actually paraphrase the entire book for you, but I won’t torture you that way. I want you to read the book—it’s a four hooves up.
I could have highlighted the whole thing - important steak-y stuff from all around the world. Tag along on Mark's road trip and find yourself really hungry for something not so easy to find...
If you love beef but have felt it is somehow mysteriously lacking, you’ll gobble it up and learn something in spite of yourself. Makes me excited to get back to my work preserving and sharing something we are in real danger of losing. And it should make you want to go out and find yourself a great steak.
If you decide to take up the Quest yourself, Mark has a website featuring contacts for some of the farms featured in the book. Also, be sure to check out eatwild.com and localharvest.org to find farmers in your area raising breeds you won’t find in the grocery store.
OK people, you have your mission….. readysetGO! And don’t forget to come back and share what you’ve found….