The roast beef of olde England
"When mighty Roast Beef was the Englishman's food, It ennobled our brains and enriched our blood. Our soldiers were brave and our courtiers were good Oh! the Roast Beef of old England, And old English Roast Beef! "
Song - The roast beef of old England, 1731
My son has sort of invited himself and his family around for dinner which is lovely, and so I had to think yet again what I could cook that the boys could eat. Then I remembered I had a piece of sirloin in the freezer that was just the right size, and so decided to do roast beef. We haven't had it for some time.
We will also have Yorkshire pudding but I think that deserves a post all of its own some day.
My first question about roast beef is why it is considered to be the quintessentially English food. (And incidentally I notice that I seem to be returning to my English roots quite a bit of late with this blog. Sorry.)
I'm not sure I have really found the answer but I did find a few little things. First and probably foremost according to one article I found the British were the first to breed cattle for meat rather than for dairy - and the best breeds today are indeed breeds that began in the British Isles - Hereford, Aberdeen Angus, Galloway and South Devon. Mind you the dreaded Wagyu may have usurped the superiority of these breeds. I do notice that sometimes the meat is advertised as Aberdeen Angus though.
Anyway this breeding dates back to the 15th century but obviously the English - and probably everyone else was eating roast beef well before then. Roasting was, after all one of the first ways of cooking meat. Indeed according to Robert Carrier:
"The roast was brought to the table on a spit, a servant holding it while the guest cut off a piece, which was eaten with fingers and often without a plate. Indeed, medieval directions for setting a table often referred to 'trencher pieces' of bread on which guests could lay down their portion of meat."
But I guess the really distinct thing that made it so British is the breeding and that insubstantial something that tied roast beef to the British character. The other thing is the simplicity of it, the plainness if you will. English food has a reputation for plain - meaning boring and tasteless, but plain can also mean simple, fresh - with the true taste shining through. Perhaps the difference is best described by Alex Renton writing in the Guardian on how to eat roast beef:
"English roast beef summed up the differences between us and namby-pamby, ragout-loving nations that messed around with their meat." Alex Renton - The Guardian
It also leads to a lot of snobbery about the quality of the beef.
Before the Victorians popularised turkey for the Christmas dinner - turkey being an American thing - beef was the traditional Christmas food. And Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall wrote a fairly passionate article about how his family had returned to this tradition.
"What's required is something heartier, richer and more intense. What's needed is a flesh whose savour runs deep because its fats are dispersed, in fine grains, throughout the meat. Something that reveals itself slowly, through chewing, then yields completely. A meat whose surface, seared by the heat of a fierce oven, creates a flavour that is the very essence of savouriness, yet whose interior is so matured, tender and relaxed, it could be served raw, like sushi." Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall
So there it is - a truly British thing. Even we, who were fairly poor, sometimes had roast beef for our Sunday lunch. We always had a roast of some kind but not always beef. Because this is the other thing - it's mostly eaten by the Brits for a Sunday lunch - Sunday lunch being another tradition. According to Wikipedia this is because on Sunday the common people broke their fast and were able to eat things that were otherwise forbidden on other days - such as meat and dairy. They would put the meat and vegetables into the oven before going to church and eat it when they returned.
So how to cook it? Well this is where the snobs come in. And everyone it seems is a snob when it comes to roast beef. You've got to have at least 2.5kg (mine is 1.5 kg - and I'm sure the ones we ate in England were much smaller again). You have to have the bone in (mine doesn't). It has to be well hung and from a proper butcher who will know where it comes from. (Mine is from the supermarket and therefore has not been hung.) Mind you when I was growing up it would have been bought from a butcher. And it probably was better. Well actually I usually do buy my meat from a butcher at the Queen Victoria Market but this was a super special deal at Aldi - I couldn't resist.
Most of the gurus recommended a timing of roughly 15 minutes per pound for rare meat. And, of course, according to the gurus (and me too, but not the rest of the family) it just has to be rare.
"And it really really, must be rare; cook it for longer and all sensuous, wanton pleasure is lost. You might as well roast your slippers." Nigel Slater
I think that means that I will be cooking mine for just under an hour - and then, of course you are supposed to rest it, (for 20 mins) which I confess I have never done. I like my food hot. So I think this will depend on whether the vegetables are done. The first quarter of an hour of cooking has to be in a very hot oven, then you lower it for the rest of the time.
I also find that I have committed another crime in that I have been marinading mine in a simple red wine marinade. Again according to the gurus - all of them - you just need to rub in salt, pepper (well some of them say no salt), and most add mustard and a bit of flour.
"A large joint of beef is unaffected by herbs, waving their subtleties away with a flick of the wrist. Other than a generous salt and peppering, good beef can pretty much speak for itself." Nigel Slater
Too late for that - I've gone the marinade route, though I will keep the marinade for the gravy.
Robert Carrier has what he says is a foolproof recipe in which you barely cook the beef at all. I have yet to try this, mostly because I like to cook the potatoes with the beef and I'm not sure that would work with this recipe. Though if you have a second oven, like me, I guess you could cook them separately. And he too is of the opinion that you have to have at least 2.5 kg. though he prefers no bones. In this instance anyway.
NO-ROAST ROAST BEEF
1 x 2.5 kg (or more) boned and rolled beef joint or joint of 2 or 3 ribs of beef
salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 tablespoons dripping or butter at room temperature
To prepare the beef - at least 2 hours before you intend to roast the beef, remove the joint from the refrigerator. Preheat the oven to 250ºC at least 20 mins ahead of time.
Rub the joint all over with salt and freshly ground pepper, and spread it with the dripping or butter. Place it on a rack over a roasting tin.
To roast the beef - Place the meat in the oven. Roast for 5 minutes per 450g/1lb, then, without opening the oven door, switch off the heat and leave for a further 2 hours. Do not, under any circumstances, open the oven door during this time.
When the 2 hours are up, open the door and without removing the tin from the oven, touch the beef with your finger. If it feels hot, go ahead and serve it. However, as some ovens do not retain their heat as well as others (electricity is often rather better than gas in this instance), you may find the beef on the lukewarm side. If so, close the door, put the oven back on, still set at 250ºC and give it a further 10 minutes or so. This will raise the temperature of the beef without affecting its rareness.
As for the fat - well I did cut off most of the fat, but even before I read all the gurus I had decided to keep some of it and put it in the pan (on top of the beef) with the meat - for the flavour mostly. So was quite pleased to discover I had done the right thing.
"The simple truth is that fat carries taste, and most of what you enjoy as "juiciness" is molten fat." Alex Renton
Nevertheless I am probably doomed to failure. The meat is poor quality, there are no bones, I'm a poor judge of when it's done, and I've marinaded it, not to mention the fact that it is far too small a cut (though no doubt it would have seemed huge to my mother), and that it will therefore, in the words of Robert Carrier, shrink away to nothing, and I have marinaded it, which will probably ruin the crisp outside.
Fortunately I am not feeding gourmets.
