Beef

A couple of weeks ago thoughts turned to beef, resulting in the post at reference 1. In the event, I settled for Ben the butcher of Upper High Street and reference 2. An establishment sporting one of those glass fronted chiller cabinets which seem to be all the thing these days, even making it to the better class of bar. For which seem reference 3.

This resulted in the purchases snapped above, white bread (from Waitrose) for gravy dipping, short rib for beef stock and the main business in the white plastic bag. Waitrose did not do white bloomers, so I settled for three small white loaves. Two speciality, one regular, this last ending up in the freezer and subsequently, mostly, in a bread pudding.

Ok, so the bones had been cut a bit short, but there was a good blanket of fat. A good looking piece of meat. We also got a bag made out of sacking.

With this being the gravy part of the operation. In the rose-tinted olden days you would have asked the butcher to throw in a few bones for the stock, but nowadays that counts as a separate purchase.

Subsequently boiled up for about three hours with some onions, celery, carrots and so forth. Stock below, fat above for the roux and for the roots.

Some of the boiled meat on the bones was snacked that same evening, some was taken for breakfast the following morning, on what Waitrose were pleased to call a grand rustique. Rather good, if rather an expensive way to knock out gravy and the odd beef sandwich.

The  main business weighed in at 3.344kg, otherwise 7lbs 6oz, otherwise 7.5lbs. After poring over reference 1 for a while, we (or perhaps I) decided on two and a quarter hours at 190°C plus resting. So in at 10:00 and oven off at 12:30 or so. Oddly enough, at about the same time we had decided that a higher temperature for cooking bread was probably a good plan too.

Somewhat beforehand, BH had busied herself with sponge cake (no jam underneath, possibly a mistake), apricots (reconstituted from dried, better than tinned), syllabub (a foreign version of white custard) and grapes.

Time at this point to walk a few bricks. And to admire the primroses brought on by the mild weather.

Used some of the fat mentioned above to oil the carrots and parsnips, cut to a sensible size but not peeled. Into the oven at 12:00, perhaps 15 minutes too early given the high temperature, although no-one complained and they all went.

Plated the joint and the roots up at 12:30. Must have left the oven on for a bit longer. Washed the roasting tin with the liquor.

But annoyed to find that, despite having conferred with Ben about this very matter, and Ben having made a note on my order, that the joint had been chined. So even in a butcher which supplies free sackcloth bags, you can't rely on them to do what you ask. Giving the impression that, as far as they are concerned, you are just some waffling punter who can take what he is given. Hmmm.

Proceeded to gravy dipping, using some more of the bread from Waitrose. Snap timed at 12:55, so running a bit late. What was left of the rustique, then a round sour dour loaf, rather heavy and stodgy. But better than brown for this particular purpose.

But, in fairness to Ben, the beef turned out very well indeed, despite the chining business.

On the plate. With modest signs of gravy at the back. Rather less modest signs on BH's plate had I snapped that. Gravy very good. Greens very good. A very modest bottle and a half of Fleurie (from Waitrose) between us - rather more abstemious than is usual on these occasions. A spot of austerity after the festivals of December.

The view from the dark side, after the event.

At which point we moved onto Duplo, with a minor outing for Polly and her friends, and playing school - with some of us getting into the spirit of this last more than others. Not a game I remember playing as a small child, but our two granddaughters are presently very keen on it. Naturally they get to play the lead roles, that is to say head teacher, class teacher and class assistant. Adults relegated to the class, in the rank and file.

Cold, day two.

A bit more full on, with my taking my mash and gravy on the side. Note the lemonade top right - lemons and sugar, but not honey or barley.

The cake had stood well. But the apricots had all gone, so I was reduced to taking what was left of the syllabub with still dried. But that worked well enough.

By the end of this second outing, the beef was down to tea-time snacks. So the beef had done just six adult portions, plus two child portions. But the choice for more was probably two more ribs or nothing, as leaving just the one for someone else was probably not an option - not that I had asked.

PS: while entering this post, I had occasion to notice the large number of emails arriving under my promotions tab in gmail. Which sparked the thought that the people at Google would do better to ration this a bit: as things stand, I am all too likely just to delete the lot unread. If they calmed down a bit, I might look at them a bit more closely. I might even click on some of them. So, as things stand, the people paying Google to promote their wares are not getting very good value for money, at least not from me.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/01/as-you-like-it.html.

Reference 2: https://www.bensbutchery.co.uk/.

Reference 3: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/01/in-transition.html.