Chuck – Machaca

Good evening, campers, and Happy Monday.

First, a thank you to those of you who wrote in with your beef suggestions. It sounds like people want to see some offal. I’ll get on it.

But not yet. I got another request, this one from my wife. And since she knows where I sleep, I do what she asks. And she asked for machaca.

Actually, she asked for spicy shredded beef of some variety for use in tacos and enchiladas. That’s machaca. (Take away the H, and it’s a 2006 political gaffe. Different beast. But I digress.)

Historically, machaca is a dried and preserved meat, kinda like beef jerky. When a cook uses it, they rehydrate it somewhat, pound the hell out of it to tenderize, and shred it.

I’m not trying to preserve this meat, so I don’t have to dry it. I can achieve a similar effect by braising it.

And by “it,” I mean chuck. I’m using a chuck roast – a roast cut from the chuck primal, or shoulder, of the beast.

The chuck primal does a lot of work moving the animal around, and so it has a lot of connective tissue. Since I’m braising it, all the connective tissue in the meat will have plenty of time to convert to delicious gelatin throughout the long, slow, moist cooking process. The braise, therefore, favors cheaper, tougher cuts of meat with more connective tissue – like chuck. But “cheaper” does not mean “less delicious.” The last time I used chuck on this blog, I well and truly wrecked it. I’m interested to see how it turns out when I don’t flamboyantly destroy a quality piece of meat.

Friday, I zip home and whip up a quick marinade. Worstershire, lime juice, garlic, pepper, cumin and some canned Chipotle in Adobo Sauce. That stuff is magic.

I let it soak overnight. Saturday, I slip out with some friends to catch some waves. Surfing is one of those activities that remain fun, even if you suck at it. Needless to say, it remained fun.

Back at the house, I’m salty, sandy, and ready to cook. I promised my wife this dish for dinner.

The mise:

I pull the meat from the marinade and gently pat it dry. I don’t mind if the chunky garlic bits stick to the meat, but I don’t want the liquid. Messes up the maillard reaction. A quick sear on all sides, and out it comes.

A diced onion, a poblano chile, and a jalapeno chile go in over medium for a little sweat. Looking for soft onions, not brown onions.

That done, the meat goes back in, along with cumin, oregano, a little cayenne-based pepper sauce, and some diced tomatoes.  I realized too late my tomatoes had gone south, so I cheated and used canned. I’m a horrible person.

Alright. The recipe I’m basing this on doesn’t recommend adding any more liquid to the pot. I think this is crazypants. I just don’t trust the vegetation I’m using to give out enough liquid to braise properly. So I supplement with beef stock until the meat is about three-quarters fully covered.

I bring to a boil, then lower to a simmer. Nothing  left to do but wait.

Estimated cook time is two hours. It’s 6:40. That puts dinner at 8:40. Not as early as I’d hoped, but respectable.

I scamper off to YouTube.

You’re welcome.

Two hours later, I check the beef. It should be falling apart lovely. As yet, it is not.

I put it back on for another half hour.

Still no.

Another.

And another.

“Honey, is dinner ready yet?”
“Can’t rush genius, baby.”

Tick m’n'f’n tock.

Finally, as the french say: “le meat, she fall apart.”

What time is it?

Tomorrow o'clock.

I pull the meat and shred it. Back into the liquid, and reduce until it’s almost dry. Soon, it almost is.

Dinner’s ready.

Who's hungry?

Dinner has become lunch.

Everything goes into plastic and into the fridge. My wife made some lovely homemade tortillas, so at least when lunch does finally come, it should all be worth it.

Sleep.

The next day, we prepare for Sunday lunch the meal I began preparing Friday evening. Machaca on homemade tortillas. I opt for unadorned meat-on-tortilla, because I want to taste all the work I put in.

Verdict: Lovely. Smoky and rich, and quite frankly, well worth the time. This will likely become our default beef-for-Mexican-dishes… It really provides a depth of flavor that ground beef with dried spices doesn’t really match. And given that my chuck roast was two and a half pounds, I’ll have plenty of this on hand to dole out whenever.

The Wife Says: 8.99. It would have been a 9 if she could have had it when she smelled it cooking… you know, like around dinner time. She said she really sees a lot of potential in this one. This could be a ten. Encouraging.

Next up: disco flashbacks.

(Much love to Casey and Lolo for the YouTube link.)