Pan-seared Sirloin with Chimichurri

I don’t know if it’s the cold weather or an iron deficiency trying to communicate with me, but I’ve recently found myself intensely craving steak. Not to mention that I’ve finally learned how to cook it exactly how I order at a restaurant (medium rare), and it didn't involve setting off the smoke alarm (let’s hope that was a one time occurrence) or a 2-day bout of food poisoning from undercooking. My vegetarian-leaning self has finally learned how to flawlessly prepare bovine meat, and now, I can’t get enough; specifically, this Pan-seared Sirloin with Chimichurri. 

I’ve shied away from learning how to cook steak in the past—as if because I rarely ate it I wasn’t worthy of knowing how to prepare it—assuming I was inherently set up to fail. Previously, I’d nervously overcook a piece of meat, making sure I paired it with a flavorful sauce to cover up any of my missteps. Only with a little bit of research did I figure out a few essentials for proper steak cooking. How simple the basic principles are!

1. Temperature matters. Bringing steak to room temperature an hour before cooking ensures optimal heat penetration to the middle.

2. Seasoning matters. A generous rub of salt, pepper, and olive oil will suffice.
3. Flipping matters. Turning the steak every minute promotes an even sear.
4. Resting matters the most. Letting the steak sit for five minutes, plus half the cook-time, lets it finish cooking properly after being removed from the heat.

The last step is arguably the most important because there’s nothing more disappointing than an overcooked slab of beef. Trust me on this one—the steak needs to sit to finish cooking through.

Adding to this enthusiasm was my discovery of Piedmontese heritage beef at the Union Square Greenmarket, produced by Stony Mountain Ranch (full market schedule here). Although Stony Mountain Ranch’s cattle is raised in Pennsylvania, the breed is originally from the Piedmont region of Italy, known for having the best beef in the country due to its supreme succulence and super lean disposition. This desirable combination is a result of the cows’ genetics: Piedmontese cattle naturally carry a unique gene that reduces fat yet improves tenderness. And while the beef is genetically lower in total fat than other breeds, it also has the highest percentage of good polyunsaturated fats within that total fat. Think omega-3s like DPA and DHA. On top of that, its exclusively grass-fed. If looking for a healthy breed, you’ve found your guy.

The quick and easy chimichurri sauce hails for Gjelina, one of my favorite cookbooks for condiments and vegetables. For me, it’s essential for a chimichurri to have the right oil to vinegar ratio—not too slick, not too tart—and this one delivers exceptionally, dotted with spices that accent the grassiness of the herbs.

Pan-seared Sirloin with Chimichurri
Makes 1 ½ cup chimichurri

Ingredients:
Grass-fed, tender cut of steak (i.e. rib-eye, tenderloin, porterhouse, T-bone, skirt steak, top sirloin, filet mignon. Budget 6 ounces, or a little more than 1/3 lb, per person)

1 bunch fresh cilantro, stemmed and chopped
½ bunch fresh flat-leaf parsley, stemmed and chopped
1 Tbsp dried oregano
1 tsp smoked paprika
½ shallot, minced
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil (can use less if desired)
Kosher salt
Freshly ground lack pepper
1 Tbsp red wine vinegar

Directions:
1. Make the chimichurri. In a medium bowl, combine the cilantro, parsley, oregano, paprika, shallot, and olive oil and stir. Allow to stand at room temperature for about 20 minutes. Just before serving, add red wine vinegar. Season with salt and pepper.

2. Make the steak. Heat a hot cast iron pan with oil, and follow the 4 steps above! A medium rare steak should cook for 6 minutes (flipping every minute), and rest for 8 minutes before serving.

Hearty Beef and Rutabaga Stew

The selection of produce at the farmers market drastically scales back as we plunge into the onset of winter, like a “last vegetable standing” survivalist showdown. What remains are the the gnarly subterranean dwellers; parsnips, turnips, beets, daikon, potatoes, onions to name a few. With their knobby torsos and listless dirt-covered exteriors, these vegetables look like the aftermath of a catastrophe—a paltry display huddled under a few lonely tents, their dismalness echoed by the fleeting bundled passerbys hurrying through the cold and wind towards their final destinations. Note how we don’t pick up a parsnip, caressing it lovingly with our hands like we might an heirloom tomato or summer peach. No, we spend a split second weighing the necessity of the parsnip versus the consequence of taking off our gloves, and if the former triumphs, plunder it into our bags before sprinting back off into the frigidness.

But how appearances do deceive, because these below ground tuberous, taproots and bulbs are truly the pearls of produce come wintertime. A quick scrub to remove that matted dirt, maybe a peel? and 40 minutes later—diced, roasted, with nothing more than a dash of olive oil, salt and pepper—these vegetables become regal.  Warm jewel tones of gold, bronze, and deep eggplant simply glow, vibrant with their brown caramelized corners. And the taste! I marvel at the complexity of these vegetables, sweet as sugar with an earthiness—a heartiness—that keeps them in check. They have substance, thanks to the cooked-through starch embodying an almost burly, toothsome quality. I could eat this preparation for days on end, constantly enthralled by the luxuriousness of such trivial ingredients, before ever finding it tiresome.

 

And to think that what I described is the root vegetable’s most basic preparation, the lowest recipe on the totem pole. Imagine the possibilities with a little spice, a little herb. Imagine the opposite of the first scene I described, and instead, the kitchen that all those bundled people were running to, the warm glow of the heat, the light, the coziness of being inside on a freezing day. Imagine on their dinner table, a heaping bowl of Hearty Beef and Rutabaga Stew.

 

One of the most gnarled of all the root vegetables, the rutabaga is round and squat with an ombre exterior that fades from purple to cream. Its preparation is identical to that of a turnip, but upon cooking, it tastes much sweeter, like an extremely rich yellow potato. That being said, if you cannot find rutabaga, turnips are a perfectly acceptable alternative for this recipe. I actually used both.  This recipe confines its taproots to carrots and rutabaga, but feel free to add other types such as kohlrabi, celeriac root, and parsnips, too.

In my book, the hallmark of a successful stew recipe is one that fulfills its duty of being hearty, robust, and satisfying without also being excessively fatty or rich. To garner flavor, this stew relies on a plethora of Middle Eastern spices and other basic pantry items, like tomato paste and red wine, for acidity. I substituted vegetable broth for the beef broth, which also contributed to the lighter feel.

Initially, I felt like the stew was missing some acidity, and tried to compensate with extra tomato paste and wine. By the next day though, I realized the flavors just need some time to sit, and a simple swirl of red wine vinegar before serving would do the trick. (If you like tomato-based stews though, I do suggest doubling the paste).  Taste-testing is key to this recipe, depending on your preferences regarding salt, acidity, and herbs (I added dried thyme, too, which I highly recommend). If you can, make this stew a day ahead for optimal flavor fusing. 

I served this stew over a bed of barley, and it hit the spot completely, getting better every single day as the flavors continued to meld. Now, instead of mourning the end of the harvest season, rendering obsolete some of Fall’s greatest hits, I relish the thought of exploring the culinary offerings of these versatile roots in the upcoming months.

Hearty Beef and Rutabaga Stew (slightly tweaked from Dishing up the Dirt)

 Serves 4

Ingredients:

1 lb sirloin or strip steak, trimmed and cut into 1-inch cubes (preferably grass-fed)

½ tsp salt, divided

½ tsp ground pepper

2 Tbsp olive oil, divided

1 lb rutabaga, peeled and cut into ½-inch cubes

3-4 medium sized carrots, cut into ½-inch cubes

1 medium yellow onion, chopped

3 cloves of garlic, chopped

2 -4 Tbsp tomato paste (use the higher quantity if you prefer an overt tomato flavor)

1 tsp paprika

¾ tsp ground cinnamon

½ tsp ground turmeric

½ tsp ground coriander

1/8 tsp cayenne pepper

¾ tsp fresh thyme (optional)

2 Tbsp all-purpose flour

½ cup red wine

3 cups low-sodium beef or vegetable broth

minced parsley for serving

dash of red wine vinegar for serving

Pearled barley, farro, or crusty thick bread to accompany

Directions:

1. Sprinkle steak with ¼ tsp salt and pepper. Heat 1 Tbsp oil in a large dutch oven or saucepan over medium heat. Add the steak and cook, stirring frequently, until no longer pink on the outside, about 4 minutes. Transfer the steak to a plate.

2. Add the remaining 1 Tbsp oil to the pan over medium heat. Add rutabaga,

carrots, onion, garlic, tomato paste, paprika, cinnamon, turmeric, coriander, cayenne, thyme,

and remaining ¼ tsp salt. Cook, stirring occasionally until the onion begins to soften and the mixture is fragrant, about 5 minutes.

3. Add the flour and cook, stirring, for 1 minute more. Add the red wine and continue to cook, stirring to break up any bits that have stuck to the bottom of the pan. Add the broth and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the rutabaga and carrots are

tender, 10-12 minutes.

4. Add the steak and any accumulated juices to the pan. Reduce the heat to medium

and cook the steak through, about 2 minutes longer.

5. Before serving, taste soup and adjust seasonings to taste. Divide the stew between bowls (over barley/farro, or with bread) and top with a swirl of red wine vinegar and plenty of chopped parsley.

Vietnamese Lemon Grass Beef and Noodle Salad (Bun Bo Xao)

I was slurping my umpteenth spoonful of cold-weather soup, staring at my despairing, pasty reflection in this bowl of noodles and broth, dramatically downhearted and glum while trolling various Jetsetter Caribbean vacations I wasn’t going on—yes, I’ll take another helping of self-pity please— when I clicked on a short article in the New York Times Opinion Pages called This Winter Has Gotten Old.

“And long it has been,” the article acknowledged, likening the unbearable infinity of cyclic frigidity, snow, ice, and freezing rain to the sensation of being trapped.  “But check the calendar: This week means we are officially in late February, which means March. March means daffodils, which means this all must eventually end.”

And just like that, my haze of disheartenment lifted. I pictured those yellow daffodils— the most telltale sign of spring—or is it the purple crocuses, peeking up from the snow in the ultimate gesture of awakening? Either way, I was done wallowing. It was time to looking forward, time to anticipate spring!

So I made this extraordinary Vietnamese Lemon Grass Beef and Noodle Salad (called Bun Bo Xao). The flavors—crisp, luminous, and revitalizing—mimicked my newfound positivity. In this recipe, root vegetables carrot and daikon radish give a quick nod to winter, but the fresh herbs, tangy sauces, and spicy chili peppers give the dish fresh, vibrant life.   It’s the perfect precursor to spring.

The standout component of the salad is definitely the beef, vivacious and citrus-kissed with its fragrant lemongrass rub. The other elements are really just accouterments—julienned vegetables, delicate lettuce leaves, paper-thin rice noodles—but their raw simplicity is refreshing; the appropriate underpinning to a sauce bursting with tang and punch. Yes, this recipe is unequivocally authentic Vietnamese, but surprisingly, I was able to find every ingredient (the lemongrass, fish sauce, and rice noodles are the most obscure) at Whole Foods—no trip to an Asian market necessary. (You won’t be able to find Fresno and red/green bird chilies, but habanero and jalapeño will do the trick.)

If you are nervously eyeing the rice noodles’ carb content, try substituting with Shirataki instead: these yam starch noodles contain virtually no calories, and similarly to tofu, are tasteless: a blank canvas for any sauce you choose. Texture-wise, they’re thin and slippery; spot-on for this vermicelli-seeking salad.

This recipe is truly delightful. In addition to achieving bold, intense flavors while remaining buoyant and light, completing the dish feels like quite an accomplishment for the novice Vietnamese cuisine chef.  I’ve always put Vietnamese food in the “only for take-out” category, and it was very exciting to discover how accessible this ethnic food type can be in your own kitchen. So make this dish, think of daffodils and crocuses, and remember: spring is on the way!

Vietnamese Lemon Grass Beef and Noodle Salad (Bun Bo Xao) (by David Tanis)

Serves 4

Ingredients:

For the dipping sauce:

4 tablespoons Demerara or granulated light brown sugar

3 tablespoons rice vinegar

4 tablespoons lime juice, from 2 large limes

4 tablespoons best quality fish sauce, such as Red Boat

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 1-inch length ginger, peeled and minced

1 medium-hot red chile, such as Fresno, chopped (or jalapeño/habanero)

1 hot red or green bird chile, thinly sliced

For the stir-fry:

12 ounces rice vermicelli noodles or thin Shiritaki noodles

1 pound beef skirt steak or sirloin, in thin 1/4-inch slices

2 tablespoons best quality fish sauce, such as Red Boat

1 tablespoon Demerara or granulated light brown sugar

3 garlic cloves, minced

3 tablespoons finely chopped lemon grass, tender centers only

1 head lettuce, such as butter lettuce or Little Gems, tender center leaves separated

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

4 scallions, slivered

1 medium carrot*, cut in 3-inch lengths, julienned (about 1 cup)

1 small cucumber*, 3-inch lengths, julienned (about 1 cup)

1 3-inch length daikon radish*, julienned (about 1 cup)

 Mixture of cilantro sprigs, mint leaves, basil leaves and small perilla (shiso) leaves, about 3 cups

4 tablespoons crushed roasted peanuts

4 tablespoons fried shallots, available in Asian groceries (I omitted these)

 Small handful bean sprouts or sunflower sprouts (optional)

*I recommend doubling the vegetables, and/or adding julienned red pepper slices and shredded Napa cabbage too. You’ll want them to soak up extra sauce!

Directions:

1. Make the sauce: In a small bowl combine sugar, rice vinegar and lime juice and stir to dissolve. Add fish sauce, garlic, ginger, chiles and ½ cup water and stir together. Let sit for 15 minutes for flavors to meld. (May be prepared a day ahead and refrigerated.)

2. Bring a large pot of water to the boil. Add rice noodles, stir and turn off heat. Let noodles soften (5 to 8 minutes, depending on brand; if using Shiritaki noodles, cook according to package directions), then drain and rinse with cold water. Leave in colander at room temperature.

3. Meanwhile, combine beef, fish sauce, sugar, garlic and lemon grass in a bowl. Massage seasoning into beef and let sit for 15 minutes.

4. Line a serving bowl or four individual large wide soup bowls with a few lettuce leaves and top with noodles.

5. Heat the oil in a wok over high heat. When wok is nearly smoking, add beef and quickly stir-fry until lightly browned and just cooked, about 2 minutes. Work in batches if necessary so meat browns and doesn’t steam. (If you do not have a wok, you may use a cast iron skillet and work in batches.) Note: do not overcook! I cooked for 4 minutes, and the beef was way too chewy.

6. Top noodles with cooked beef, scallions, carrot, cucumber and daikon. Sprinkle with herbs, and crushed peanuts (plus fried shallots and sprouts if using). Drizzle lightly with dipping sauce and pass remaining sauce at table.