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pseydtonneIf you are soft-hearted about animals, you probably won't want to read this post. You have been warned. You may not say that I didn't warn you. I would even warn certain particular readers but I worry that calling them out would explain enough about the topic to squick people. You've been warned.
However, all foodies should read this. I need input and I also want to offer a warning.
I cooked horse steak today. It was boring.
I love to try obscure meats. They serve rabbit here like America serves broccoli: it's effing all over the place! I had heard the rumors about the French deciding horse meat was a delicacy during the Franco-Prussian War when they had no farm animals left to eat in Paris. I just assumed it was crazy talk.
I walked into the Carrefour today. There was an entire section for horse. "Cheval steak" and "cheval ronds" were available. Since there isn't an oven in the chateau kitchen, I bought a third of a pound worth of horse steak for about $2.50 and figured I could sear it.
By the way, this word "chateau" gets thrown around way too much. It's a large, run-down house. It's got electricity and plumbing, there is an elaborate antenna on the roof and it's got fascinating ivy changing color all over it. Soldiers used it as a flop house during and after WW2. It used to be some kind of mill, as the street signs in the neighborhood call it the "Vieux Moulin".
Back to the steak: it's a deeply red and insanely lean meat. It looked a lot like kangaroo meat but sliced more thinly and showing more muscle. I asked the butcher which spices go with it and he said "pepper is fine" and shrugged me off. I grabbed some coarsely ground black pepper, a bottle of Cabarnet Sauvignon, a small can of sliced mushrooms and a bag of wild rice. I grabbed some other stuff too, but none of it was relevant -- except for the jar of Italian pesto, which kicked the ass of anything I've ever had before, was delicious on wheat rolls and only cost €3 (about $4.50).
I figured steak au poivre would be simple enough, as I'd done it with beef before and it was fine. Then I hit a problem: the kitchen.
The stove has lousy controls. There are two burners, one big one that burns big and a little one that burns low. The fuel is a tank of suburban propane, which shocked me in a town as wealthy as Rambouillet (people sign international peace accords in Concord, not Brockton). I wish Hank Hill had been looking over my shoulder, because he could have shown me how to finesse these unsubtle burner knobs.
I couldn't find dish soap, towels to dry anything nor even a measuring cup. I guess I'll be making a donation tomorrow. I wound up drying the skillet and pan with toilet paper. Then I finally started cooking.
I used what looked like a glass crème brulée dish to measure out two and a half doses of water and a dose of wild rice. While that got cooking, I poured some olive oil in a small skillet, dragged the steak through a bed of black pepper and began to sear the steak. This didn't particularly smell like anything as it cooked, which bummed me out a little. Food should release scents when it cooks or chemical reactions aren't happening right.
After a couple of flips (I had to use a butter knife for a spatula), I tossed in some of the wine and the mushrooms.
It turned out I hadn't cooked the inside long enough, so I gave it another round. It got red but hot with everything I ate, so it was fine.
The pepper was kicking my ass, but I had bread and pesto (oh, and wine) to smooth the ride. The wild rice was dull. However the real bummer was the steak.
Positives: it wasnt bad, it didn't smell weird or feel weird, it was only slightly tough with a serrated butter knife and it was easy to chew. It had a nominal texture.
Negatives: it's too lean to melt in the mouth, too tough to eat like tuna steak or kangaroo filet (those are lean but soft, yielding meats), too keen to be inoffensive and too... boring.
It wasn't bad, it wasn't great. It's like finding a decent margarine: who cares when there is butter or olive oil? Besides, there is the guilt from eating Mister Ed -- wait, fuck Mister Ed. I'd feel guilty about eating Flicka or Citation but not Mister Fucking Ed.
I can't recommend going out of one's way to eat horse.
Perhaps I should find a better recipe instead of just winging it. Perhaps this would cook better on a grill. Perhaps I'll focus on pesto, paté and water reviews (Waltwiller and Vittel are too mineral, Volvic rocks and the cheap stuff called Cristaline ain't bad at all for 45 centimes per liter and a half).
-il n'avait pas de la chance, Dante
However, all foodies should read this. I need input and I also want to offer a warning.
I cooked horse steak today. It was boring.
I love to try obscure meats. They serve rabbit here like America serves broccoli: it's effing all over the place! I had heard the rumors about the French deciding horse meat was a delicacy during the Franco-Prussian War when they had no farm animals left to eat in Paris. I just assumed it was crazy talk.
I walked into the Carrefour today. There was an entire section for horse. "Cheval steak" and "cheval ronds" were available. Since there isn't an oven in the chateau kitchen, I bought a third of a pound worth of horse steak for about $2.50 and figured I could sear it.
By the way, this word "chateau" gets thrown around way too much. It's a large, run-down house. It's got electricity and plumbing, there is an elaborate antenna on the roof and it's got fascinating ivy changing color all over it. Soldiers used it as a flop house during and after WW2. It used to be some kind of mill, as the street signs in the neighborhood call it the "Vieux Moulin".
Back to the steak: it's a deeply red and insanely lean meat. It looked a lot like kangaroo meat but sliced more thinly and showing more muscle. I asked the butcher which spices go with it and he said "pepper is fine" and shrugged me off. I grabbed some coarsely ground black pepper, a bottle of Cabarnet Sauvignon, a small can of sliced mushrooms and a bag of wild rice. I grabbed some other stuff too, but none of it was relevant -- except for the jar of Italian pesto, which kicked the ass of anything I've ever had before, was delicious on wheat rolls and only cost €3 (about $4.50).
I figured steak au poivre would be simple enough, as I'd done it with beef before and it was fine. Then I hit a problem: the kitchen.
The stove has lousy controls. There are two burners, one big one that burns big and a little one that burns low. The fuel is a tank of suburban propane, which shocked me in a town as wealthy as Rambouillet (people sign international peace accords in Concord, not Brockton). I wish Hank Hill had been looking over my shoulder, because he could have shown me how to finesse these unsubtle burner knobs.
I couldn't find dish soap, towels to dry anything nor even a measuring cup. I guess I'll be making a donation tomorrow. I wound up drying the skillet and pan with toilet paper. Then I finally started cooking.
I used what looked like a glass crème brulée dish to measure out two and a half doses of water and a dose of wild rice. While that got cooking, I poured some olive oil in a small skillet, dragged the steak through a bed of black pepper and began to sear the steak. This didn't particularly smell like anything as it cooked, which bummed me out a little. Food should release scents when it cooks or chemical reactions aren't happening right.
After a couple of flips (I had to use a butter knife for a spatula), I tossed in some of the wine and the mushrooms.
It turned out I hadn't cooked the inside long enough, so I gave it another round. It got red but hot with everything I ate, so it was fine.
The pepper was kicking my ass, but I had bread and pesto (oh, and wine) to smooth the ride. The wild rice was dull. However the real bummer was the steak.
Positives: it wasnt bad, it didn't smell weird or feel weird, it was only slightly tough with a serrated butter knife and it was easy to chew. It had a nominal texture.
Negatives: it's too lean to melt in the mouth, too tough to eat like tuna steak or kangaroo filet (those are lean but soft, yielding meats), too keen to be inoffensive and too... boring.
It wasn't bad, it wasn't great. It's like finding a decent margarine: who cares when there is butter or olive oil? Besides, there is the guilt from eating Mister Ed -- wait, fuck Mister Ed. I'd feel guilty about eating Flicka or Citation but not Mister Fucking Ed.
I can't recommend going out of one's way to eat horse.
Perhaps I should find a better recipe instead of just winging it. Perhaps this would cook better on a grill. Perhaps I'll focus on pesto, paté and water reviews (Waltwiller and Vittel are too mineral, Volvic rocks and the cheap stuff called Cristaline ain't bad at all for 45 centimes per liter and a half).
-il n'avait pas de la chance, Dante
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no subject
Date: 2008-10-07 12:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-08 12:28 am (UTC)Picula ad Caval
This traditional Italian recipe will serve 6
21/4 pounds ground horse meat
1 Tbsp. olive oil
2-1/2 ounces ground cured lard (or pancetta)
2 onions, minced
1 glass dry white wine (though some Italian chefs prefer broth)
6 ripe tomatoes, blanched, peeled, seeded, chopped, and drained
2 bell peppers, ribbed and seeded, then diced
2 Tbsp. minced fresh herbs (basil, sage, and rosemary in proportions to taste)
1 clove garlic, minced
salt and freshly ground pepper
Heat the oil, lard, and onion in a skillet. Sauté until the onion has become golden but don’t let it get really brown. Add the horse meat and brown it, stirring frequently. When it has browned, sprinkle in the glass of wine and reduce the heat to a bare simmer. Cover it, and let it cook for at least an hour. Mix in the chopped tomatoes and diced peppers, and continue cooking for another half hour.
Ten minutes before removing the dish from the stove, sprinkle the minced herbs over everything. Serve it hot with salt and pepper to taste.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope you are having fun, it was good to hear from you. Please come visit us when you get back..they opened 2 new diners in vestal/endicott. I fear we have a new addition to the kitten family but I think Friends and spedies and salt potatoes are good temptations.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-08 04:12 pm (UTC)I have tried to explain salt potatoes to Bostonians and they just... don't... get 'em. I wonder whether I could cook salt potatoes here, whether I could even find small enough potatoes.