Prime Beef at Halteman's

You can buy USDA prime beef again at the Reading Terminal Market for the first time since Harry Ochs went belly-up a few years ago.

Rib steaks in that class were on display this morning at L. Halteman Family Country Foods. Be forewarned, however: these are wet-aged steaks, not dry aged. The butcher told me they might go with dry-aged at some future point.

In case you're wondering, across the aisle Giunra's Prime Shop (one of two other butchers at the RTM) does not sell prime meats. Owner Charles Giunra tried that when he opened eight years ago, but found his customers wouldn't pay the price that prime beef demands. That said, Charles is a great meat buyer and while his beef is technically USDA Choice and wet-aged it's a very tasty, superior product.

Where's the Eye in this Ribeye?

I don't mean to pick on Martin's at the Reading Terminal Market (see my previous post about the shop's ground meat labelling), but where's the "eye" in this ribeye steak?

It's there, but hardly more than two or three bites. All the rest is bone and "deckle".

Now it happens that this would be  perfect steak for me. The deckle is the fattier meat surrounding the ribeye, and it's more frequently known as ribeye cap. I love it: flavorful and tender because of all that fat marbled through it.

But that high a proportion of deckle to ribeye is not what most people expect when buying a ribeye steak, a.k.a. Delmonico. In this case the steak was cut from one of the ends of the rib primal (I'm guessing the chuck end rather than the short loin, from whence strip steaks and porterhouses reside).

By the way, deckle is not a specific cut of meat, rather, it's a term to describe any piece of fattier meat normally cut along with leaner meat. Get a whole brisket (as opposed to the "first cut" you usually see) and it will have a huge, fatty, flavorful adjunct of deckle. The best tasting brisket you'll ever have will be one cooked whole with the deckle.

Truthiness in Labeling

Ground sirloin (foreground) and chuck roast (upper left) at Martin's

 When it comes to hamburgers, I ask the butcher to grind meat to order for me. It's not that I don't think the pre-ground meat at a good butcher shop isn't good -- it usually is. (I'm always a bit more suspect of the pre-ground meats I find at supermarkets, especially if it's ground off-site by a larger processor.)

I ask for grinding to order because I prefer chuck rather than round and/or sirloin, or the less desirable cuts found in "hamburger". I think the flavor of meat ground from the chuck far superior to others. And since I prefer my burgers cooked very rare, I don't want the meat sitting around, even for less than a day, after grinding, giving any bacteria a chance to multiply.

Usually I ask Charles Giunta to grind up chuck for me at the Reading Terminal Market. But earlier this week when I stopped by Charles was busy and said I'd have to wait about an hour until he had a chance. Since my meter was just about expired, I thanked him and went to his brother's shop, Martin's Quality Meats.

When I asked the counterman for chuck, he tried to steer me (pun intentional) to the "ground sirloin" on display, priced at $2.99 a pound vs. the $4.59 I'd pay for chuck. "It's chuck, too," he said.

I suggested he look at his butcher's chart: sirloin comes from the back end of the animal, chuck from the shoulder. Either the ground meat was chuck and it was wrongly labelled, or he was fibbing. And I doubted it was chuck because if it was, he wouldn't be selling it for $1.60 less a pound that unground chuck, even accounting for the extra fat that's usually thrown into ground meat.

"I'm just trying to save you money," he said. I thanked him for the consideration, but said I preferred chuck and am willing to pay for it. He finally relented and ground a hunk of chuck roast to order -- I asked him to de-bone a piece of short rib and throw that into the grinder as well to provide a bit more fat as well as flavor.

I wound up with a bit over two pounds of ground meat for a bit over $11, enough for seven five-ounce burgers (I don't like behemoth burgers, like the half-pounders you tend to find at too many pubs). They were tasty and good. But I still had a bad taste in my mouth from the buying experience.

I don't know why the counterman tried to get me to buy the ground sirloin, other than his stated reason of trying to save me a buck or two. Maybe he simply didn't want to take the time to run it through the grinder, though there weren't many customers and his co-workers could easily handle others while he was tied up serving me.

This is hardly the only example of unclear or downright untruthful labeling to be found.

I've written before about the loosey-goosey nomenclature for salmon. John Yi at the Reading Terminal continues to sell "Wild Organic King Salmon". What that really means is that it's farm-raised king which had been fed "organic" feed.

Since it's Alaskan salmon season I had a hankering today for king (also known as chinook) salmon. Over at John Yi's they had "Wild King Salmon" at $17.99/pound, a relative bargain. But when I asked where it was from I was told it was New Zealand.

There's no such thing as a commercial king salmon fishery in New Zealand. There is, however, a substantial farm-raised king industry; indeed, New Zealand is the world's largest producer of this product. I don't have any qualm about the quality of the product; my issue is misleading labelling by retailers.

(There is some "wild" sea-run king salmon in New Zealand, but it's not fished commercially. It was brought to Kiwiland in the late 19th century in form of eggs from California kings in an attempt to establish the species there as a sport fishery.)

At the Reading Terminal Market Yi's and Golden Fish do have truly wild Alaskan salmon right now: sockeye priced at about $14 a pound; it's also an excellent fish like truly wild king, but it has a slightly different flavor profile and the filets are considerably thinner.

Giunta's Prime Shop

At least one reader of this blog complained in the past about the name of this butcher shop at the Reading Terminal Market, objecting to the use of "Prime" for a shop that doesn't sell prime beef. Technically, the critique is on-target: Charles Giunta does not sell USDA prime grade beef.

But I don't care. His beef may be "only" USDA Choice, but his eye in picking out primals and his hereditary butchering skills have won my regular patronage. For what it's worth, overall his meats are far better than that sold by Ochs in its last few years at the market.

For the holidays I picked up a small prime standing rib roast (prime as in the definition of the cut, not the USDA grade). Even though he was exceedingly busy on the Friday before Christmas he took the time to get a new full rib from his walk-in refrigerator and asked me how many ribs and from which end, i.e., chuck end or loin end. When I asked for his recommendation, he suggested the chuck end, which he thought more flavorful than the loin end though it can be a slightly tougher part of the full seven-rib cut. He did a great job of a trimming my two-rib roast, leaving just the right amount of fat, semi-separating the bones for easy carving and expertly tying it all together, ready for the oven.
 
It made a superb meal on Christmas Day. No doubt it was helped by the fact that it sat it in the fridge for two days, unwrapped except for some wax paper loosely placed over the top, a do-it-yourself aging technique which will improve almost any piece of beef. I took the meat out of the fridge a few hours before cooking so it would lose some of its refrigerator cool, then seared all sides of the meat stovetop in a roasting pan (no need for additional fat). After about 10-12 minutes of browning I simply salted and peppered before placing the standing rib in a 200F oven. It cooked on a rack in the roasting pan at this low temperature until my digital probe registered 135F (this took about 150 minutes). After resting half an hour while I prepped the rest of our meal I carved the meat, and it was perfectly medium rare (quite rosy, but not red) through and through, from just below the outer crust to the deepest part of the interior. Best of all, it tasted absolutely yummy with plenty of beef flavor, with the tenderness one would expect from USDA Prime. The five-pound roast priced at $10.95/pound could be considered dear, but I thought it great value for a superior hunk of protein.

Steaks cut from the same primal are a favorite of mine and I've always been satisfied by Giunta's rib steaks on the bone. But I've also cooked his filet mignon, flank steak and hanger steak and never been disappointed. Ditto for pieces of chuck I've braised in a variety of fashions, as well as short ribs.

In recent weeks I've cooked up two ground meat dishes from Giunta. I used his pre-ground (on premises, not from a wholesaler) meatloaf mix -- beef, veal and and pork -- to make meatballs. Last week I asked him to grind chuck to my order, which went into an all-beef meatloaf (it was assisted by my addition of half a teaspoon of unflavored gelatin to mimic the collagen veal would have provided). We enjoyed both.

Lamb is one of those meats that's pretty good no matter where you buy it, so sometimes I obtain it from Giunta's and other times from his brother Martin. (Both learned their trade in the family butcher shop in the Italian Market.) Giunta's ducks are superb, offering the classic Long Island style duckling raised and packed by Joe Jurgielewicz & Son of Berks County. (For Muscovy duck visit Godshall's Poultry.)

Best of all, Giunta's prices are competitive -- rarely more expensive than what you'd pay in a supermarket, and frequently much better value.

More About Meat

I had a chance to talk a bit about beef today with Nick Ochs of Harry G. Ochs & Sons (shown at right getting into the spirit -- and garb -- during the Pennsylania Dutch Festival at the Reading Terminal Market a few years ago).

The Ochs stall has long been known as a purveyor of prime beef, but given my conversation with Charlie Giunta a few days ago (see earlier post) I wanted to know a bit more about his beef.

Nick said he uses the same suppliers in Lancaster County as his dad Harry did. He exclusively buys USDA prime beef sides, which was a mild surprise to me, since I thought only some of his inventory was prime. The only time he orders choice, he said, is when a customer specifically requests it; an example he gave was someone who wanted ribs with a bit less fat on them.

His suppliers hang the sides he selects for four weeks, which is as long as most butchers and restaurants selling or serving dry aged beef. Even the meat that goes into his ground beef ages that long since it's all coming from the same sides and ground at the store.

A few customers like their beef for steak and roasts aged longer, and Nick obliges. Lynn Abraham, for example, goes for six weeks. He's even had a rare customer (a Manhattanite who forsook Lobel's for Ochs via mail order) who asked for eight weeks. Beyond eight weeks, says Nick, the beef becomes way too livery tasting. Occasionally, when his supply at the store is low, he might pull some sides from his suppliers' aging rooms at three weeks, but that's the exception, not the rule.

All of Nick's beef and poultry comes from Lancaster County. The lamb and pork come from farther afield.

Nick said his sales of prime dry aged beef have held up pretty well, even though they took a dip early in the recent recession. Five or six years ago a lot of market shoppers thought the lack of bright red color like they find in supermarket wet aged beef indicated poor quality. Today more shoppers are aware of prime beef and its characteristics, Nick said.

Giunta Tries Again

When Charles Giunta opened Giunta's Prime Shop at the Reading Terminal Market a couple years ago his goal was to offer natural, hormone-free meats. It didn't work. As Charlie has complained to me on numerous occasions, customers like all-natural, hormone-free, no-antibiotics beef, but few want to pay the freight. Price beats all.

As evidence, he points out that the Reading Terminal Market has the highest volume of food stamp purchases in the state, and these shoppers have to be particularly thrifty. Shoppers who are fortunate enough not to need food stamps are just as thrifty. With few exceptions they also buy on price, though just like food stamp shoppers they seek the best possible quality for their buck.

The market for the premium meat remains small. Either of the city's two Whole Foods store, which carry hormone-free, natural meats exclusively, sell only half the dollar volume that he does each week, Giunta estimates. Even Harry Ochs, long renowned as the market's premier butcher specializing in prime meats, doesn't move much of the good stuff: look at Ochs' cases and you'll see nearly half the space taken up by prepared foods and Boar's Head deli meats; much of the fresh meat that remains, while certainly of high quality, is conventionally-raised.

Although Giunta has concluded he can't make a living if he relied on all-natural product, that doesn't mean he won't stop trying to make it work, at least for part of his business.

This weekend, you can expect to see all-natural, hormone-free, antibiotic-free meats from Peterson & Shaner, a small-scale operation in Douglassville, not far from Pottstown.  Peterson & Shaner raises about 50 head of Black Angus for slaughter each year, as it has since the 1950s. The beef is grass fed until shortly before slaughter, when they are switched to corn and other grains grown on the farm. They are shipped only so far as a Quakertown slaughterhouse for processing, with the carcasses sent back to Douglassville where individual customers can order whole sides which are they butchered while they watch (and the customer does his or her own packing). They hang the beef for two weeks before they let the customer do the packing.

Because Peterson & Shaner doe not use growth hormones, the sides are smaller than most commercial beef, which means the steaks and other cuts will be smaller (though you can always get a thicker cut of steak if you want more meat). It also means don't expect any filet mignons, since the tenderloins are much too small.

Giunta made a trip Sunday to Douglassville and came back with three sides, which he's starting to cut today. As of this morning, he's still figuring out the pricing, but expect them to be a few bucks a pound more than his usual product.

If you want have access to this type of quality beef at the Reading Terminal Market, bite the bullet and go buy some this weekend. If Giunta doesn't move it at a price at which he can make a fair profit, don't expect to see it in the future.