From the Mongolian hordes to René Redzepi

Mongolia to Russia to Germany to America to the world

I came to this topic via a slightly roundabout route - a bit like Steak Tartare itself. When looking for cornichons the other day I found instead a huge jar of 'European style cucumbers' which my husband, in a fit of enthusiasm for bargains, had bought from Aldi. I needed cornichons, didn't have any so substituted these. So now the jar is open and I have to use them. That was going to be my topic, but somehow, I can't remember how now, I decided instead to write about Steak Tartare and Tartare Sauce. I think it was probably because when I looked for what to do with gherkins mostly what came up was Steak Tartare and Tartare sauce.

I must admit I had thought that Steak Tartare was French in origin, but no - it's Mongolian. And there's another coincidence - for one of the attendees at our off the cuff lunch yesterday was my son's Mongolian partner and they both tucked into these cucumbers with their cold meats.

And why Tartare? Well another name for the Mongolians was Tartar which comes from either the Greek or Latin (I have seen both quoted) Tartarus which means Hell. And the Mongolian hordes were obviously considered to be hellish.

There are legends about the Mongolians softening the meat under their saddles as the reason for the name of the dish, but no it's actually just a way they dealt with tough meat such as horse and camel, by chopping it very finely and then binding it together with milk or eggs. The meat under the saddle was to prevent saddle sores - on the horse I suppose, not the rider.

The Tartars spread the dish through Russia and into Germany (well they did cover most of the known world at the time), where it was adopted enthusiastically. From Hamburg, which became a major port for trade and eventually for European migrants to America, went Steak Tartare although it was called Hamburg Steak or Hamburg style American fillet at the time. It was served on the boats of the Hamburg America Line, and then in the restaurants of New York which catered to those migrants' tastes. Wikipedia has a rather more detailed history. From America it returned to Europe and to France and the world I guess. And there are some people who think that therein lies the history of the hamburger too.

Ultimately it came to the world's most lauded chef - René Redzepi of Denmark's Noma, whose version is shown at the top of the page. The recipe - he calls it Tartar of musk ox (or fillet steak) - does contain various ingredients that it might be difficult to find like wood sorrel and balsamic apple cider vinegar, let alone musk ox, but it's actually quite a simple recipe in that you can do the various little bits of it in advance and then assemble at the last moment. It would be pretty impressive. I mean you have a picture of what it's supposed to look like. And what do you know? I just did a search on 'wood sorrel' to see what you could substitute and what I came up with is that wood sorrel is OXALIS! Or rather that Oxalis is a type of wood sorrel. In another coincidence, I have been weeding oxalis from my garden this very morning. So not hard to find at all. It grows in abundance here. Not sure about horseradish root though.

You don't find steak tartare very often on menus these days. I don't know whether this is because of health concerns - though why would this be the case when sashimi and carpaccio are common? Or maybe it's the raw egg? Somebody mentioned that it was a compliment to a bistro to order their steak tartare. I suppose it shows faith in their hygiene, and also is an acknowledgement of their skill is making something raw taste good. One writer suggested that if you were worried about the hygiene then you should just make it at home.

Of course there are thousands of variations out there. And it's not always beef that is the main game. In fact nowadays tartare is most often used as a description of a technique - something raw with piquant accompaniments. Fish is the most common variation.

Nigel Slater's classic version, shown at left, is perhaps the most elemental version that I found, although he does also have a Tartare of mackerel and kohlrabi, which looks somewhat fancier. (below)

Perhaps the main conflict seemed to be about which of the flavourings should be actually combined with the meat and which should be added afterwards. Andrew McConnell of Cumulus Inc. maintains that:

"steak tartare is a dish that needs to be fine-tuned according to individual taste. A splash too much Tabasco could ruin it for some. Well, for me anyway. For this reason, we serve various condiments on the side, including green and red Tabasco and a clear anchovy essence from Italy (colatura di alici)."

And here is what his version looks like.

The very official sounding, Auguste Escoffier School of Culinary Arts gives a pretty good summary of what makes a good Steak Tartare, together with a selection of interesting modern variants on this ancient dish. They don't give an actual recipe, just several links to recipes around the world.

They also provides a rather pretty picture of their idea of how to serve it. Again the meat seems to be fairly basic with the additions to be added by the customer.

Third coincidence of the day. Nigel Slater suggested serving it with, of all things, carta di musica - the carasau from Sardinia that I wrote about the other day.

And what about Tartare sauce - so ubiquitous that Nigel Slater thought that it was going the way of old-fashioned salad cream? Well this is really a mayonnaise flavoured with those gherkins or cornichons and capers.

Felicity Cloake calls it 'piquant gloop' and implies that it is almost essential with fish and chips. As to its origins she maintains that:

"it has assumed the name of the more traditional Tatar dish of chopped raw meat, which it often accompanied in the fashionable dining rooms of 19th-century Europe"

Her article gives you all the possible ways in which it can be made.

Nowadays it does not accompany steak tartare - although some of its components do. The sauce most often accompanies fish.

"The point of tartare sauce has always been to provide a piquant contrast to the mild-tasting food it accompanies. In one knife-sharp hit, this sauce of mayonnaise, gherkins, mustard and capers continually sharpens an appetite that would soon be dulled by mouthful after mouthful of crumbed or battered food ...

The trick is in finding the correct balance of piquancy and creamy blandness. Too much vinegar or lemon in the mayonnaise and the result will be harsh; too few capers or gherkins and the essential piquancy – and therefore the point – will be lost"

Nigel Slater