When the steaks are highland

Please note, the opinions expressed here are John’s alone, and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Craven Herald

THE most memorable steak I ever had was served up on the banks of the River Rhine in the Alt Stadt – the Old Town – in Dusseldorf. The beef was delicious but there was a problem: this was 1982, the British had just kicked the Argentines out of the Falklands and the restaurant was owned and run by an Argentinean.

We had been taken there by German hosts and to avoid embarrassment all round, my wife and I pretended to be American. But washed down with a fruity red wine I had never heard of before – a malbec – the meal was a huge success.

Now this is not a cookery feature but one about farming for at that very time over 30 years ago another invasion was taking place, one of which was barely noticed but its effects are still with us today. Down in the meadow, the French were taking their revenge on Les Rosbifs.

Traditional English breeds of beef cattle like Herefords, beef shorthorns, Lincoln and Devon Reds were disappearing from our fields, their places taken by Charolais and Limousins and that – in an opinion based on 30 carnivorous decades – was when the thin end of the wedge was stabbed into the Beef of Olde England.

The reason for the swift take-over by these French beasts was that they grow faster and bigger than most native breeds and therefore could be sent for slaughter much earlier: as young as 16 months compared with up to three years for the natives.

And as well-known Skipton land agent Simon Smith told me: “By almost halving the time to market, the farmer was cutting his costs and increasing his profits. Farming has been a very tough business for a very long time now and livestock breeders had to do what was necessary to stay afloat.”

One of those pressures on farm gate profits was another attack on our steaks, the burgeoning growth of the big supermarkets which put thousands of traditional butchers out of business – craftsmen butchers who knew their trade, how to cut, keep and present meat at its edible best. In their place came the pillar box red supermarket steak.

Coincidentally, this was also the time when more and more women were going out to work. Shopping became a rush job and the bright red steak looked succulent and easy to cook. In fact, the redder the meat, the harder it will be to enjoy.

To be fair, the supermarkets have in recent times introduced well-hung, dark brown steaks that to the inexperienced eye can look as though they have “gone off” but in fact are much better for taste and texture. Although this sounds unappetising, the microbes put to work by the decomposition process are nature’s tenderisers. But are they still as tasty as in the old days?

On a recent BBC cookery show, the guests fell to arguing about why so much steak these days is tough and tasteless.

And the conclusion: the demise of traditional English beef cattle.

The key word in that sentence is “English. “Substitute “Scottish” and we are into a completely superior culinary culture. And that in turn takes us, not to the Highlands but to Hellifield and Green Farm, home of Robert and Wendy Phillip, a couple who took a huge gamble to put the taste back into beef.

Ten years ago, they ran a large milking herd at a time when dairy farmers were going broke in droves. They adopted two Highland cattle more or less as pets and, in 2005, switched entirely to beef production.

And it is their policy of slow-grown, grass fed Highland cattle which gives the meat produced its taste of yesteryear. That and – don’t have the vapours ladies – its marbling of fat.

They say with great modesty that they produce “the best beef in the world”.

Robert explains: “The modern supermarket steak may have come from a beast killed only the day before. It will be bright red, look delicious, and have a slight edge of fat. In fact, it will be almost tasteless. They have to keep inventing new sauces to make it taste of something.

“Our beef has its fat marbled within itself and that melts into the meat to give it its flavour. Our stock goes to market at three years old whereas some farms send theirs as young as 16 months. That slower growth gives the meat a very fine grain which makes it much nicer in the mouth. And all our meat is hung for three weeks to ensure total tenderness.”

My mouth is watering as I write this but one final word about that Dusseldorf steak. Our efforts at Americanisms had been a total failure. When he brought the bill, the Argentine owner bowed, smiled and said: “I know you are English but there is no need to feel embarrassed. The wine is on the house because the junta at home were hunting me as a political; prisoner so I had to flee. Now they are out of power after the war, I can go back.”