One of the most cherished relationships I’ve developed since moving to my new neighborhood in Brooklyn is with the butchers at my local meat shop. They’re always happy to see me, sneak me a snack of whatever cured meat they’re slicing, and offer me the best, most honest opinion when it comes to what type of meat I should be buying.
Ever hear of “the right tool for the right job”? Well, there’s also a right steak for the right dish. A good butcher will help you find it.
A few weeks ago, I went in looking for a cut of steak that wouldn’t break the bank, something I could casually sear for a quick weeknight dinner, without sacrificing tenderness and good, beefy flavor. One of my guys at the butcher shop recommended hanger steak, which I had cooked before (and loved!), but I never thought of it as an affordable replacement for something like rib-eye.
After taking it home, searing it and realizing it was almost better than the expensive steak I usually spring for, I felt as if my butcher and I were in on a secret — an affordable, delicious secret, usually known only to small, charming bistros and neighborhood restaurants.
Now, every time I walk into the shop, I like to ask, “What’s your favorite cut of steak today?” — especially if they happen to be out of hanger steak (which they can sometimes be: There’s only one per animal, making it a more exclusive cut). This is how I was introduced to other supertasty, affordable cuts that could be seared and served rare, like boneless short ribs (no braise required), thicker pieces of flank (avoid thinner pieces, which can overcook) and bavette (the bottom part of the sirloin).
These cuts will vary, depending on where you live, the type of butcher shop or meat counter in your area, and general availability. It may seem obvious, but opening up the conversation and talking to an actual human not only got me out of my rut of buying the same two types of steak over and over again; it also provided me with expert tips that definitely made me a better cook.
If it’s a new cut I’m bringing home, I like to season it simply, with nothing more than kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to truly assess its unadulterated steak flavor. From there, I give it the faux-bistro treatment with a garlicky salsa verde and a bowl of almost-too-salty potato chips, which one could argue are essentially weeknight French fries. (That means you just made steak frites.)
