Steak Revolution

CRUST, FAT, JUICE

THE THREE ELEMENTS OF PERFECT STEAK

That ahhhh moment of the first anticipated mouthful of magnificence that is a steak, done just right—what do you notice about it? It’s juicy, yes. Appropriately salty. Incomprehensibly savoury. Rich and satisfying. Your mouth and nostrils are lit up with a symphony of flavours that coalesce into something unmistakably wonderful: smokiness, tanginess, hints of caramel, and mouthfeel ranging from velvety to slippery to supple. All accompanied by the voluptuous textures of sweet fat, or the tawny bite of a perfect crust. I contend that only beef steak can deliver this much in one bite, and here you will learn how to create this same experience every time you light the fire, the gas grill, or the stovetop.

Your goal is to cook your steak so that it develops a dark brown crust, so that all the internal fat is melted enough to participate in the overall campaign, and so that the steak juices are released from the muscle fibres but not from the steak itself. There are exceptions, matters of taste, and extra flavours you can add to steak in wonderfully playful ways, but really, once you’ve mastered this essential goal, the rest takes care of itself. Expressed in just three words: crust, fat, juice.

CRUST

The delectable outer coating of a steak cooked well will pack enough flavour to completely change its character. Part of what gives the crust it’s awesome flavour power is the chemical transformation of sugars and proteins as they bond together while cooking. They can only do this fast enough at temperatures in excess of 280°F, which is why steak needs to be cooked, at least for some of its time on the heat, in a dry environment. Other-wise moisture will cool the surface down too much for the reaction to occur on time. The phenomenon is called the “Maillard reaction,” named after the French chemist Louis-Camille Maillard, who discovered it in the early 1900s. This reaction occurs with a great many foods: anything that is cooked at high temperatures in a dry environment for long enough (bread, roasted nuts, cookies, coffee beans) or at lower temperatures over very long periods (meat and vegetable stocks cooked for many hours). It is the source of complex networks of dozens of flavour compounds, some of which are fleeting, breaking down or combining to create still other flavour compounds. The reaction is particularly pronounced in steak because of its rather generous amino-acid profile (it has a lot of protein to work with). The sugar in this protein–sugar partnership is glycogen (sometimes called animal starch), a polysaccharide of glucose that is stored in muscle tissue to fuel the live beast.

THE SEARING MYTH

I often hear people talk about the importance of “searing in the juices” while cooking a steak. Simply put, searing does no such thing. Some juices will run from your steak no matter what, and searing a crust will not help. As a matter of course, steak will lose up to one-third of its moisture when cooked, even at medium-rare. A steak is 75% water when it’s raw. But you needn’t worry: the fat inside the steak will guard against a dry, unhappy result. Of some importance, though, is the grain. If the grain runs through the steak from top to bottom (like it does with a New York striploin), cooking will release moisture more quickly than a steak with a grain that runs across its length. It is worth checking doneness on steaks with a vertical grain a little earlier than steaks with horizontal grain.

The crust is also formed by caramelization, the chemical reaction that occurs when sugar is reduced in a dry environment at temperatures in excess of 230°F (or hotter for some sugars). Like the Maillard reaction, caramelization produces hundreds of flavour compounds, the ultimate stage of which is pyrolysis, or charring. Char, unwelcome most of the time in large quantities, can be part of the flavour profile and texture of nice crust. If a little char can be nice, the rule for crust should always be “brown, not black.” When you see the steak fats and juices bubbling on top of the dark brown exterior as you turn the steak, you know your crust has sufficiently developed. If your crust has developed but your steak is not cooked internally to the level you like, this may be the time to move it to a cooler spot until it is.

The Maillard reaction occurs more readily in an alkaline environment, so adding too much acidity to your steak (like a squeeze of lemon) as it cooks will limit browning. Salt is good, though. Regular table salt (sodium chloride) is pH-neutral, but will allow your steak to hold more moisture internally, if you add it early enough before you start cooking. Unrefined sea salts do contain water-reactive minerals, and will in fact raise pH, creating a somewhat more alkaline cooking surface. For this reason, I recommend using the greyish Celtic style of sea salt, or the Himalayan salts, which also contain water-reactive elements.

THE TAKEAWAY FOR GREAT CRUSTS: Ample heat, limited moisture, a low acid or neutral cooking environment, and meat salted well in advance of cooking (at least 30 minutes, preferably longer—even a day before).

FAT

Yes, you want it. Fat is important enough that beef is actually graded on how much intramuscular fat (marbling) and visceral fat (the larger, visible clusters) any given cut contains. In my view, beef grades should be a bit less fat-based, because real meat quality is much more nuanced than that. But grading has its merits. In Canada, beef grades range from Prime (contains the most marbling), AAA (somewhat less marbling), then AA and A, to four grades each of B, D, and E. In the United States, beef is similarly graded from Prime (very well marbled) to Choice, Select, Standard, Commercial, Utility, Cutter, and finally Canner.

The quantity and distribution of fat is measured along with the age of the cow, with the assumption that younger, fatter cows will yield a superior cooking and eating experience. Meat from younger cows is paler, and generally has a finer texture. The more and better distributed fat is in a younger cow, the higher the rating. Grading systems are similar around the world, with Japan leading the way in the degree of specification, though the age of the cow varies. In Australia and Argentina, beef cattle can be four or five years old. In Spain, Galician cows are raised to be slaughtered much closer to the end of the cow’s natural lifespan, approaching 15 years or more. The meat from these Spanish cows is much darker, and the fat much yellower.

THE TRUTH ABOUT FAT

There is so much health mythology about fat that it is hard to know where to begin. Fats are essential to the human diet, and animal fats have been a part of the human diet since humans were human. Saturated fats, which are found in the visceral (triglyceride) fat bodies in steak, remain stable at high temperatures, not only giving them a high smoke point but also preventing them from becoming toxic, as many polyunsaturated vegetable fats do when heated. Unsaturated (vegetable) fats have the molecular capacity to readily bond with other compounds when processed or heated, creating harmful free radicals. For an update on the benefits of this tragically vilified macronutrient, take a look at The Big Fat Surprise: Why Butter, Meat and Cheese Belong in a Healthy Diet by Nina Teicholz (Simon & Schuster, 2014).

Lower grades of beef are more likely to have other factors working against them, like inconsistent meat colour, cows that were too old when they were slaughtered, and low muscle density.

Suffice it to say that fat plays an important role. It adds richness to meat, protects it from moisture loss and evens out the heat while it cooks, and generally makes so many aspects of cooking and eating steak much better.

Since the goal is to make the fat in your steak deliciously melty, as opposed to stiff and fudgy, it’s important to know that different kinds of fat have different melting points. The more saturated the fat, the higher the melting point. Unsaturated fats have double carbon bonds, causing a bend in the fatty acid chain that makes it harder for them to pack together, and so they become looser and liquefy more quickly as the temperature rises.

Many steak cuts are blanketed in a significant fat layer or cap of hard fat (the fat cap). This mostly saturated fat takes the longest to melt, and will remain largely intact when your steak is done. Generally speaking, the fat cap is best left untrimmed, as it generally is with striploin and some sirloin steaks. This adds another tasty dimension to your steak, so why not take advantage of it? Some of it will darken and char a little on the grill because it is exposed directly to the heat. That just makes things delicious, and in my view more handsome on the plate. Steaks with fat caps are also great to pan-fry. You can use the steak’s own fat to coat the bottom of your pan.

As it turns out, the fat that holds moisture inside the meat is quite special. Unlike marbling and visceral fat like fat caps, it is invisible. Also unlike the visible fat, it is largely unsaturated and will melt at lower temperatures, starting around 85°F. These fats, called phospholipids, are an essential component of the cell walls of the live animal, and once they begin melting in earnest in your steak, they release fluids (juice) from the muscle tissue. The trick is to start this process—fracturing the layers between muscle fibres, making the steak juicy—but not overdo it. It’s important to leave enough tissue unaffected so as much juicy goodness as possible remains in your steak instead of on your carving board or plate. In my view, this means cooking the steak to an internal temperature of 120°F to 125°F, depending on your cut of meat. The French call this, appropriately, à point, signifying that the steak is perfectly cooked. It amounts to a little under medium-rare by North American standards.

This is not to undervalue the visible (triglyceride) fat. It also melts when cooked, trapping moisture, distributing heat more evenly, developing rich flavours, and lubricating your steak into a state of sumptuousness.

THE TAKEAWAY FOR OPTIMAL FATTY GOODNESS: Melt the fat, but not too much. With some exceptions, this generally means removing your steak from the heat as it approaches an internal temperature of 125°F.

JUICE

There is nothing like crushing a nice bite of steak between your molars, brightly flavourful juices gushing from its structure and over your tongue. All the water-soluble flavours, and some of the fat-soluble ones, are contained here in the tangy liquid essence of steak. A steak cooked above medium (135°F), without the mitigation of a brine, will lose so much juice that, it seems to me, one should simply never go there. Less juice means not only less juiciness, but less flavour.

As mentioned earlier, juice will start forming in the steak as soon as the intracellular (cell-wall, phospholipid) fat starts to melt in earnest. It will accumulate and remain in the steak at an optimal volume just before the muscle fibres have separated enough to release it completely.

Another very important factor in preserving the heavenly juices in your steak is resting time. Most steaks will constrict as they cook. More than just shrinking from moisture loss, the muscle fibres tighten under the assault of heat, increasing the internal turgidity of the meat. Cutting into your steak at this point will release meat juices at pressure, leaving much less inside the steak where you want it. The appropriate length of resting time depends on the strength of the muscle, as well as the size of the steak. Thick sirloin, tri-tip, and bavette—all part of muscle groups that do a fair amount of work in the live animal—need ample resting time. Striploin and rib eye need less resting time, pound for pound. The goal is to allow enough time for your steak to relax after cooking, effectively depressurizing it, allowing its juices to take up residence in the greater space afforded to them. Sometimes this takes 10 minutes, sometimes longer.

A steak, especially a large one, should rest on aluminum foil, and be very loosely wrapped in order to gather the juices that flow out. It’s important to keep the foil loose enough to allow the steak to cool, as the inertia from cooking will propel the temperature of the steak higher even after it’s removed from the heat.

TASTES LIKE CHICKEN?

You may hear that fats in meat give it flavour. That’s true, but maybe not in the way you think. The fat you can see does indeed lend a nice texture and moisture to meats, but it’s the fat you can’t see that allows us to distinguish the taste of different species. An animal’s diet can certainly change the taste of visible fat and meat, but all things being equal, the different tastes of lamb, chicken, beef, and pork are signalled by the fat that makes up the cell walls of these animals. This invisible fat is a phospholipid, is unsaturated, and has a rather different omega-6 to omega-3 profile. Without it, all meats would taste virtually the same.

Tear off a sheet of foil larger than you would need to wrap the steak. Lay the sheet down on a flat surface and place the steak on top. Loosely gather up the foil around the steak so heat can escape while the juices are captured in the foil. Some juice will actually be reabsorbed into the meat, but some won’t. You can serve any juices poured overtop of the steak, or in a soy dish or ramekin, which is fun and just seems more thoughtful.

THE TAKEAWAY FOR SUPREME JUICINESS: Get your steak off the heat as it approaches medium-rare (at 120°F to 125°F), not after. Let it rest wrapped very loosely in foil for 10 minutes, depending on the size and to some extent the tenderness of your steak. When the steak relaxes, it’s ready for your knife. Don’t worry about the steak not being piping hot. Good steak is best enjoyed just a bit warmer than the temperature of your tongue.

THAT’S JUICE, NOT BLOOD

The red juices from steak are just that: juices (not blood). Blood would congeal when exposed to air, which is why it is used to make things like boudin (blood sausage). Steak juice (the “jus”) is actually intracellular fluid containing myoglobin, a protein similar to hemoglobin that uses iron to fix oxygen close to muscle tissues that need it quickly for hard work in the live animal. Myoglobin turns red when it is first exposed to oxygen. Red meat belongs mostly to larger, hard-working beasts, and white meat to smaller ones that don’t have as many demands on their muscles, since moving around is less taxing. Cows and all other mammals (and some fish) contain varying levels of myoglobin in different muscles. Think chicken thigh versus chicken breast. The goal when cooking steak is to keep as much of these delicious juices inside the steak as possible, instead of losing them to the grill, the pan, or your plate.

SALTWATER BRINE

It may seem odd to brine steaks, but there are times when it can do wonders, especially for larger, leaner cuts. When salt penetrates the meat, it denatures the protein, breaking the hydrogen bonds that give it a particular shape. Denatured proteins coil up, allowing them to hold more water—up to 15% more—and some of that extra water is not as readily evicted from the meat during cooking. The result is a moister, saltier (in a good way) steak that interacts marvellously well with the smoky flavours of wood or charcoal. Although not the main reason to brine, brined raw meat will also keep a couple of days longer in the fridge. Here is a simple brine recipe for steaks:

8 CUPS COLD WATER

1/2 CUP SALT

1/4 CUP PACKED BROWN SUGAR

IN A BOWL, combine water, salt, and brown sugar, and stir until the sugar and salt have dissolved. (Alternatively, you can also brine your steak in a resealable bag.) Submerge your steak in the brine (double or triple this mixture if needed). Cover and refrigerate for 3 to 6 hours, depending on the size of your steak. A 1-inch-thick sirloin slice needs about 4 hours. A 2-inch-thick (or more) sirloin slice needs a full 6 hours. When you’re ready, remove steak from the brine and pat it dry with paper towels or a tea towel. It’s now ready to cook the way you like it. It will behave a little differently, so check for doneness carefully. If you like your steaks above medium-rare (125°F), brining first may be the way to go.