In steak au poivre and many a humbler dish, freshly ground or cracked pepper shines as a steak seasoning. It even works wonders on round steak, the basic supermarket favorite. For the most tender results, use top round, avoid overcooking, and slice the meat as thin as possible against the grain.
SERVES 6
TRIPLE-PLAY PEPPER RUB
1 | tablespoon whole black peppercorns |
1½ | teaspoons whole white peppercorns |
1½ | teaspoons whole pink peppercorns |
1½ | teaspoons kosher salt or other coarse salt |
Scant ½ teaspoon yellow mustard seeds | |
1½ | teaspoons dried onion flakes, optional |
1¾ to 2-pound top round steak, about 1 inch thick |
At least 2½ hours and up to 12 hours before you plan to grill the steak, prepare the dry rub, coarsely grinding the ingredients in a blender or spice mill. Coat the meat with the spice mixture, wrap the steak in plastic, and refrigerate.
Remove the steak from the refrigerator and let it sit covered at room temperature for about 30 minutes.
Fire up the grill, bringing the temperature to high (1 to 2 seconds with the hand test). Grill the meat uncovered over high heat for 4 to 6 minutes per side, until rare to medium-rare. The steak should be turned a minimum of three times, more often if juice begins to form on the surface. If grilling covered, cook for about 8 to 10 minutes, turning once midway.
Slice the steak as thin as possible across the grain and serve hot. For a family supper, we suggest adding Sprightly Potato Salad atop some sturdy greens and Mixed Berry Cornbread.
Cattle came to the nascent United States from two directions. Spanish explorers and settlers, beginning with Francisco Vasquez de Coronado in 1540, brought rugged Andalusian cattle to the Southwest, where many wandered off and formed wild herds that developed into the famed Texas longhorns. British colonists on the eastern seaboard, within a few years of their arrival, imported stock from England, mainly as beasts of burden to plow fields and pull wagons. The beef from both breeds, tough and stringy, wouldn't fetch much more than a penny a pound at a modern meat market.
Well into the nineteenth century, most American steaks had to be slain a second time before they became edible. Even when steers were bred for meat, they usually had to be driven substantial distances on hoof to a city slaughterhouse, arriving lean and hardened. Inventive cooks developed many ways to tenderize the meat, though few seem very appetizing today. Most people pounded beef into submission, leaving a masticated taste, while others drilled holes and filled them with suet or salt pork, and some relied on a long soak in vinegar.
Cookbook authors of the time generally advised frying steaks until well-done. That's certainly how chuck-wagon cooks prepared their trail-toughened longhorn beef and how the cowhands wanted it. In one oft-told tale, a cowboy ordered a steak at a fancy city restaurant, found some pink in the center, and sent it back to the kitchen with the comment, "I've seen cows git well that was hurt wors'n that."
Railroad transportation, refrigeration, and new breeds of cattle ultimately produced the juicy, well-marbled steaks Americans relish today, usually best when cooked fairly rare. The long quest for tenderness left a legacy, though, on our taste buds. We value that quality so highly, many of us have lost touch with the real beef flavor of old, preferring mushy, bland steaks over chewy, robust meat. As the balladeers say about love, a great steak needs a balance between the tender and the true.