Now we’re talking.
See? I told you this wasn’t just a dude-who-makes-steak-over-and-over blog. I’ve been busy. Cut me some slack.
While I was out cavorting on Whitney, my wife had designs of her own. She was prepping an outright feast.
Namely, a recipe out of the Grassfed Gourmet cookbook that Chaffin Orchards turned us on to when we brought home our beef.
In essence, it’s a chuck roast, roasted over very low heat for a very long time.
Chuck is the shoulder of the steer. It’s large, and it does a lot of work. As a result, it’s very flavorful, but can be very tough. It’s also one of the most economical cuts of beef at retail. Consumers see a little less of it now than they used to, because it’s one of the cuts most commonly turned into ground beef.
You generally have to cook chuck low and slow, which causes all the collagen (connective tissue) in this particular collagen-heavy cut to convert into gelatin, which is delicious. It creates an unmistakably unctuous mouthfeel. It’s a huge component of the richness we tend to associate with many comfort foods.
The roast. Three pounds o’ chucky goodness. Brought to room temp, liberally coated with a Garlic-Rosemary rub.
We slide it into a 250 degree oven for a few minutes. Then, we knock the temp down to 170, and let it go for four hours or until internal temp hits 125, but no higher, lest it be wrecked.
Hey, wait… Our oven thermostat doesn’t go down to 170! Eh, I’ll just guess.
Friends, do not just guess.
We check it at two and a half hours, out of an abundance of caution. And because it smelled really good.
Internal temp: 157.
Ladies and gentlemen, we wrecked it.
We pulled it, and laid out dinner. We had some other stuff, but I want to talk about the roast. So let’s say we had sides of fugu, durian, and an ‘88 Chateau Lafite.
The chuck, needless to say, was overcooked. And because it cooked so quickly, most of the connective tissue remained intact. There was a lot of slicing to separate meat from nonmeat.
Regardless, the chuck still tasted very… chucky. I found it fascinating, as I’m not sure I’ve ever had a piece of unadulterated chuck before. I’ve had it ground, primarily. Never whole.
This is the flavor that non-beef items try to emulate to taste beefy. It was far richer than the steaks we’d done previously, or even grain-fed pot roasts I’ve made. It was rich and robust. It had a certain piquant fullness at the top of my palate. This could be very, very good.
I need to try this again. And I think it’d be a hoot to do it without ruining dinner.
Moral of the story, kids: get an oven thermometer.
