Animal magic - Nick Nairn Cook School

A happy beast makes a delicious dinner – so how can you be sure your meat is top notch? Nick Nairn spills the beans in our third exclusive extract from his new book

A GREAT piece of beef gets me pretty close to culinary Nirvana. I'm not the only one with this passion – demand for meat has shot up around the world since the 1950s, an appetite influenced by our growing affluence and the ready availability of a product that provides us with a wonderfully flavoursome source of protein. The big issue with all this demand, however, is that it puts pressure on farmers to increase their supply. As they cut costs, so the process becomes intensified, and more animals end up on the conveyor belt of factory farming, producing meat that's certainly cheap, but also tough and, let's face it, pretty tasteless.

But there's still top-quality meat to be had, though you'll see that, as with all sectors of the food industry, the market has been split in three. At the top end, the prime motivator of production is quality, and you'll find happy, healthy beasts living a full life, facing a calm slaughter and undergoing a proper hanging and butchering process. In the middle, quality is balanced with cost, and the animals will undergo some sort of intensive process, living shorter lives, eating high-energy feeds and moving more quickly through the slaughter process. At the bottom end, cost is the only motivator, and you get into the dark and disturbing areas of mechanically recovered meat, and imports from countries with potentially dodgy practices.

The vast majority of the meat we eat will have come from the middle sector, which can still produce something rather wonderful. But if you're looking for quality, let's concentrate on the best. It's what I would recommend for the roast sirloin (recipe overleaf). Try it with my red-wine gravy and Yorkshire puddings and you'll see what I mean.

BEEF

The best beef tends to come from our native beasts, breeds such as Highland, Luing, Aberdeen Angus, shorthorn, Shetland and Galloway. Ideally, they'll be farmed 'extensively': eating grass and toughing it out through the winter months, with minimal time spent indoors on cereal-based diets, and enjoying the good husbandry of a decent and caring farmer. Maturing later than continental breeds, they'll go to slaughter at around 25 to 30 months, in a small, local abattoir where they're not subject to stress (which induces the release of adrenaline and spoils the meat). They'll be expertly butchered and hung for up to 28 days, allowing the meat to tenderise and develop a full flavour.

It's a different shed of cows when cost comes into play. Intensive farming tends to use breeds such as Belgian blue, animals that are bred to be lean and have less of the marbling of fat that can be vital for deep flavour and succulence. Their feed, often grain and silage, complements a life spent partly indoors, and at around 14 months, they're potentially faced with having a stressed slaughter and being vacuum-packed in plastic.

I'm generalising here, of course, and meat from this process can actually be of a decent standard, but it can also be poor and disappointing. So what makes the difference?

How you prepare it is crucial (see my guide to the techniques of roasting, overleaf) and using the right equipment (see the panel, below) makes a difference, but probably the most important factor in producing great meat is simply a matter of good farming practice. If the farmer is cutting corners, the end product will never be something memorable. But factors such as the land, climate, feed, transport and herd size can all affect the quality.

I used to judge steaks at the Royal Highland Show in Edinburgh, and generally you would expect the winning steak to have come from a native beast raised under all the best conditions. But at least one year, the winning steak came from a big Belgian blue. So it's hard even for the experts to predict what will make a perfect piece of meat.

That's why it's so important to rely on the knowledge and skill of a really good butcher. A proper 'family' butcher should be able to tell you exactly what breed you're eating, where it has come from, where it was slaughtered and how long it was aged. But don't go in expecting to have this conversation on a Saturday lunchtime. If there are a dozen people behind you trying to buy sausages, your chances of having a long and engaging discussion are slim.

Go when it's quiet, introduce yourself and tell him or her why you are there and what you're after. Also, think about ordering your meat in advance, giving them time to get in what you're looking for. If they're a decent butcher, they'll be more than happy to help. If it makes a difference, tell 'em I sent you! (Better still, if you get the chance, head to your local farmers' market and hear it all straight from the men and women who know best.)

Once you've sourced your beef, consider the cut. All meat is muscle and, in general, the less work it does, the more tender the meat. Lazy muscles are best for either dry cooking, such as frying or stir-frying (sirloin, fillet, rib eye, pope's eye/rump) or roasting (rib, sirloin, wing rib or the cheaper topside). Active muscles contain more connective tissue, fat and tough fibres, and are better for braising (blade, brisket, flank/round steak, shoulder, chuck and shin). These are more suitable for long, slow, wet cooking, such as stews and casseroles.

If you're forking out on top-quality beef, the big advantage will be flavour. Well-raised, properly hung meat will cost more. But the cheaper cuts from such an animal will knock the socks off a bog-standard sirloin or fillet and, personally, I'd much rather have a cheaper cut from a good carcass than a pricey fillet from a three-legged donkey.

READER OFFER

Extracted from Nick Nairn Cook School (£20, Cassell Illustrated) © Nick Nairn/Octopus Publishing Group Ltd. To buy the book at the special offer price of £16 (postage and packing free), call 01903 828503 and quote ref CAM32. Offer subject to availability.

ESSENTIAL KITCHEN EQUIPMENT

When it comes to buying kitchen equipment, the best piece of advice I can give you is to ignore gadgets and gizmos and put your money into the essentials: knives, pans and chopping boards. At the Cook School our students cook with a huge array of top-notch kit, but for the home cook, budget and space will require you to be more selective. These are my recommendations:

Table scraper

This simple device is the single most popular item in our cook shop. Use this flexible piece of stainless steel to lift chopped onion, garlic, chilli, ginger, herbs etc and transport them to the pan without dropping little pieces all over the floor. It's ideal for cleaning chopping boards, barbecues and even the top of my Aga, and for lifting and turning delicate pieces of food.

Silicon spatula

Ultra-efficient, the silicon spatula is heatproof, versatile and has rendered the wooden spoon obsolete. Shaped to get into all the corners of a pan or dish, it banishes waste, can be used for stirring and lifting and is great for shaping mashed potato portions. It's also perfect for folding, as the sharp edge helps to ensure you don't knock vital air out of your mix. The shape makes it a great tool for scraping up all those sticky bits in the bottom of the roasting tin when you're deglazing.

Cook's/chef's knife

Used properly, a cook's knife becomes like an extension of your arm, and it's the one knife I would be lost without. Its deep, heavy blade is ideally suited to a range of chopping tasks, while the curved, rocking profile allows it to chop without ever losing contact with the board, ensuring smooth and rapid cutting. I'd recommend starting with a 20cm blade, although those with smaller hands might prefer something a bit shorter, maybe 18cm. Quality makes a real difference and you're looking for balance and a comfortable grip. I prefer stainless steel, as carbon steel stains and loses its edge quickly. The blade and handle should be made from a single piece of steel. I like the German manufacturer Wusthof for the shape and feel of its blades. I'm not a big fan of Japanese-style knives as I find them bendy and uncomfortable, with slippery handles and overly sharp heels (the edge and point of the blade nearest the handle). But the worst cut I've ever had was from a Japanese knife, so I'm biased.

Steel

If you have a knife, you need a steel. Get into the habit of using it every time you cook. There are two types on the market: the traditional cylindrical metal steel and the flat diamond steel. I've long been a supporter of the traditional style, but have recently been converted to the silky charms of the diamond steel. Sharpen your own knife as others will do it at a different angle, which blunts the blade.

Chopping board

I like wood, the heavier the better – it's kinder on your knife. But I also keep a red plastic board for poultry and raw meat. Clean well with antiseptic spray.

Frying pan

The 25cm frying pan is good for steaks, chicken breasts and fish fillets and is the one pan where it really is essential to have stainless steel. Non-stick prevents the food sugars from gathering and becoming sticky, and it's this stickiness that gives steaks etc that essential, dark, caramelised crust.

Saucier

My pans of choice are the 2qt and 3qt saucier. Similar to a regular saucepan, the secret is the curved edges of the base – a far more efficient shape for stirring and whisking. You can get right into the corners to lift the food up to the surface. Used with a silicon spatula, it's a match made in heaven.

Thermometer

Quick-read digital thermometers, which give a true temperature almost instantly, take the guesswork out of how well cooked your food is. Not only essential for timing joints of meat, they're good for steaks, fish, custard and checking reheated leftovers so they don't put you in hospital.

Grater

I still use a box grater for certain jobs – grating apples, for example – but I've switched to hand graters. The main makes are Microplane and Cuisipro. They come in three sizes: coarse, for shaving shallots, parmesan and garlic; medium, for hard cheeses and ginger; and fine, for zesting. To be covered, you need all three, but if you're picking just one, go for the medium.

Wusthof cranked turner

The best fish slice ever. The flexible blade allows even tightly stuck fillets to be eased out of the pan in one piece. Just be careful with the plastic handle: if you leave it in the pan it will melt and you'll be left with annoying ridges.

ROAST SIRLOIN OF BEEF

Serves 6-8

1.5kg boned sirloin, not rolled
red-wine gravy and Yorkshire puddings, to serve

Start by making the Yorkshire pudding batter (see below) and allow to rest while you prepare and cook the beef.

Preheat the oven to 200¡C/gas mark 6.

You'll need an ovenproof frying pan or heavy roasting tin that's big enough to take the joint. I keep a 30cm frying pan specifically for roasting – it fits perfectly in the oven. Trim the meat, leaving a decent layer of fat (about 3mm or 4mm at least) on the outside. Using a sharp knife, score the fat in a criss-cross pattern and season well with salt and pepper, rubbing the seasoning into the scored fat.

Heat the frying pan to a medium heat but don't add any oil. Stick the joint into the pan fat-side down and leave it alone. The fat should start to melt and sizzle in the pan. After about 10 minutes, it should be starting to smoke. Carefully turn the beef over and place the whole pan in the oven for about 45 minutes to an hour.

Use a digital thermometer with a probe or an oven thermometer to measure the core temperature of the meat – see step 3 of the roasting techniques outlined in the box below. When the meat is at the correct temperature for your taste, remove it from the oven and transfer to a warmed dish, loosely cover with foil and allow to rest for 30–45 minutes.

Pour any juices from the pan into a tall glass. Deglaze the pan with a glass of red wine, scraping any crusty bits off the base using a spatula. Add this to the glass, allow to settle and spoon off any fat. The contents of the glass can be added to your red wine gravy.

Finally, carve the beef into thick slices, adding any juices to the red wine gravy. Serve with Yorkshire puddings and potatoes.

Mise en place

You could make the gravy the day before and reheat. If you're making your own Yorkshire pudding batter, you can do so up to six hours in advance. A 1.5kg roast needs at least 30 minutes to relax after cooking, leaving time to cook the Yorkshires and heat the gravy.

You will want to know the best cut for this. I like rib eye, which is taken from the thick end of the strip loin and has a great marbling of fat for succulence and flavour. If you prefer leaner meat, go for the thin end of the strip loin.

RED-WINE GRAVY

Makes 440ml

300g beef bones
1 tbsp sunflower oil
200g beef trimmings
2 shallots, skin on, chopped
1 sprig thyme
1 bay leaf
5 black peppercorns, lightly crushed
300ml dry red wine
400ml chicken and beef stock

Preheat the oven to 180¡C/gas mark 4 and place the bones in a roasting tin. When the oven is hot, whack in the bones and cook until browned, but don't allow them to burn.

Meanwhile, heat a large frying pan over a high heat. Add the sunflower oil and then the meat trimmings and fry until browned.

Add the shallots, thyme, bay leaf and crushed peppercorns and cook on a medium heat until nicely coloured.

Pour in the wine and deglaze the pan, scraping the bottom with a heatproof spatula to pick up all the caramelised pieces, before reducing it until all the liquid has gone.

Add the bones and the stock and gently simmer for approximately 40-50 minutes, skimming constantly. For maximum colour, simmer slowly without allowing the liquid to boil.

Pass everything through a fine sieve and allow the gravy to stand until the fat floats to the surface. Skim off the fat and reheat the gravy to serve. Or make it a day in advance, cool quickly and leave to stand overnight in the fridge to make it easier to lift off the fat.

If cooled quickly, the gravy can be kept in the fridge for four or five days, or in the freezer for up to three months.

YORKSHIRE PUDDING BATTER

Makes 12

120g plain white flour
4 large eggs
110ml milk
110ml water
about 330ml beef dripping or duck fat
Maldon salt and freshly ground black pepper

Sift the flour and salt into a large bowl and add the eggs. Beat really well until the mix hangs from the whisk in long elastic strings with no sign of any lumps.

Mix the milk and water together and gradually add to the mix, whisking until smooth.

Cover and leave in a cool place for at least 15 minutes, or up to six hours. Refrigerate if keeping longer than half an hour, bring back to room temperature before using, and whisk well.

Preheat the oven to 220¡C/gas mark 7.

To cook the puds, use either beef dripping or duck fat. Add 2 tbsp to each segment of a 12-hole deep bun tin. Place the tin on the top shelf of the oven and heat for a couple of minutes until the fat is smoking hot – this is very important.

Put on oven gloves and remove the tin carefully from the oven. It will be scorching hot by now. Working quickly, use a jug or small ladle to pour the batter into the bun tins, filling each segment to the top. The batter will immediately cling to the sides and start rising. If it doesn't, your fat isn't hot enough, so stop, tip out the batter and reheat the tin and fat until smoking hot.

Return the tin to the oven and cook for about 20 minutes until well risen. Turn the oven down to 150¡C/ gas mark 2. Turn the Yorkies upside down in their bun tin or tip out into a roasting tin and return to the oven to cook for another 10 to 12 minutes, allowing them to dry out and firm up.

These are best eaten immediately. Otherwise, keep at room temperature for up to two hours and reheat when you're ready to serve.

TECHNIQUE

Roasted to perfection

Roasting refers to cooking food in dry heat, ie, in the oven. This method is used to slow-cook large cuts of meat or smaller fillets, but there are a few key pointers to bear in mind depending on the cut you are using. The big challenge with lamb and beef joints is getting them cooked to succulent perfection. And, regardless of what you're roasting, it is crucial to let it rest before carving or serving.

1 When slow-roasting a leg of lamb or beef joint, make sure you have a roasting tin or pan big enough for your chosen cut, and keep the skin and fat on and bone in to retain maximum flavour. Score the fat in a criss-cross pattern and season well.

2 Heat a frying pan or roasting tin to a medium heat on the hob but don't add any oil. Stick the joint into the pan fat-side down and leave it alone. The fat should start to melt and sizzle. After ten minutes, the fat should be starting to smoke. Carefully turn the meat over and place the whole pan in the oven (200¡C/ gas 6) for 45 minutes to an hour.

3 With a big joint, it's hard to judge how well it's done by oven temperature and cooking time, so insert a meat thermometer into the thickest part of the joint. For rare, it should be 45¡C; for medium-rare, 50¡C; for medium, 55¡C; well-done, 65¡C. If you don't have a thermometer, insert a metal skewer into the meat and hold for ten seconds. Take out and place on the underside of your lower lip. If it is cool, the joint is too rare and needs longer to cook; if hot, it's done.

4 It is essential to rest a joint after roasting to allow the fibres to relax and the juices to redistribute through the meat. A 1.8kg chicken or leg of lamb will need 20 minutes to rest after cooking, a denser sirloin about 30 to 40 minutes. Remove from the roasting tin and place on a warm plate then loosely cover with foil (don't tuck in the edges or you'll keep the heat in). The joint will stay warm at room temperature, and will be perfectly succulent when you come to serve it. Remember to use any juices in a gravy or just pour them over the meat.

5 To make a good base for a gravy, deglaze the pan or roasting tin with a glass of red wine, scraping any crusty bits off the base using a heatproof spatula. Add any juices from the rested joint then use the lot in your gravy recipe.

Perfect recipe for success

THE process of cooking a dish starts when you read the recipe. But what should you be looking for? A lot of people are so eager to get into the kitchen and start cooking that they pick up recipes and skim them at high speed. They focus on key ingredients and don't take in all the elements that help the dish to come together. What's the rush?

Try instead to pick up a recipe and read it through once just to get a sense of what the dish is about. Then read it properly. Start to think through all the stages in your head and imagine yourself actually cooking it. That way you should be able to pre-empt any problems. If it's roast lamb, I'll think, do I have a roasting tin big enough, will it fit in the oven, do I have fresh rosemary in the garden? Then I'll think about the timing: if it's going to take two hours to cook, I'll leave three as it takes time for the oven to come to the right temperature and half an hour for the meat to rest after it comes out.

This sort of virtual cooking is an extremely useful skill to have, particularly if you're eventually going to create your own dishes. Feel free to introduce a degree of variation to suit what's seasonally available, or even your own preferences. If you've got a vegetable stew with courgette, and you don't like courgette, take it out. You are the one who's going to eat it – why not make it the way you like it?

It's extremely difficult to recreate the exact conditions under which a recipe in a book was created. Your oven will be different, your pans may be a different shape and size. But these issues are simple to overcome with a bit of lateral thinking. Follow a recipe slavishly, and you may find your food undercooked or slightly singed around the edges. Get to know your oven and you'll know when to add on an extra five minutes here, or turn the heat down a couple of degrees there. Use your senses to help you judge things accurately, and your common sense to pick up on the odd error that may have slipped in: hmm, should I really be putting a tablespoon of salt in here? Well, the recipe says so… If you can realise when things don't feel quite right, it means you're becoming an intuitive cook, and this is a huge step forward in your culinary evolution.

Once you've got this process in your head, you can start to identify the pivotal moments or 'critical points' in the recipe. These are the points where everything can either come together or it can all start to go horribly wrong. If you're making a soufflé, the critical points will be whisking the eggs and folding the mixture in to ensure you retain maximum air. When caramelising a steak, the critical points are getting the pan to the correct temperature, and not moving the meat.

Cooking is like a big jigsaw: every time you cook you learn something new, and another piece slots into place. I've been cooking for a long time, and my jigsaw isn't complete yet – you never stop learning. There's always something new to find out, and the only way to become a better cook is to practise.