Low and Slow: Rediscovering the Flavor of Meat

Within the past few months I have really questioned whether I truly have a carnivore within me, or if I simply have a gastronome's palette that allows me to appreciate the likes of charcuterie, foie gras, and other animal delicacies rather than those of steaks and similar chunks of meat. The question came to me initially when I couldn't experience the sensation of my mouth watering at the thought, sight, or taste of my dad's birthday sirloin grilled on the the BBQ. Instead what had me excited about the dinner was my mom's Bearnaise that I would pretty much eat by the spoonful as I slathered my every bite of meat, as well as the pomme-de-terre saute also prepared masterfully by my mom and also dipped into the decadent Bearnaise. As time went on in 2010 I found that my tastes in meat did in fact lie strictly within the limits of charcuterie and, oddly enough, the more obscure parts of the animal typically categorized as offal when prepared as edible delights- namely tongue, liver, and bone marrow. Then in Las Vegas - where for my birthday dinner I ate at Alex (for Chef Alessandro Stratta) - I chose for my main course a "Tenderloin of Wagyu Beef 'Rossini with Potato Gnocchi, Root Spinach, and Aged Parmigiano," and quickly felt myself let down by my own palette. Incidentally, I could not have been less stimulated by the seemingly exquisite flavors and textures of perhaps the world's finest beef. Don't get me wrong, I had the utmost appreciation for the meat's origins, tenderness, and masterful manner in which it was prepared; but unless I had the foie gras to go with it on the fork, I simply found little interest in the meat itself. It was thus how half a piece of Wagyu tenderloin sat by itself on an otherwise spotless plate - wiped clean by a piece of bread as is my typical fashion - and how my dinner partner was offered his own chance to dine on a rare culinary delight.
OK, so where am I going with this? Well, a few weeks ago my mom and I made a Sunday trip to the Hanover Coop in search of our dinner for the evening. My mom made an enquiry at the butchery about getting a locally-sourced piece of pork, which was how we came away with a bone-in shoulder end roast (one that included the very tip of the loin and rib bones) and corresponding instructions to cook it at a low temperature over several hours. Needless to say I had been rather unenthusiastic about the thought of a pork roast for dinner, but given my keen desire to continue my cooking self-education - especially in the meat domain - I was rather eager to have a go at preparing our Sunday roast.
The preparation of the pork was really easy. I combined a couple of tablespoons of olive oil with some garlic, thyme, and essential seasoning then rubbed the mixture onto the exterior of the 2.5 pounds of meat that had already been trimmed of any excess fat. I then placed the roast into a preheated 350-degree oven and simply let it be for a near 2 hours until it reached a temperature of, more or less, 155 degrees. At this point I could remove it from the oven and let it rest on a cutting board for about 10 minutes while I deglazed the cooking pan and prepared an accompanying jus. Immediately before serving I brought out my very infrequently used carving set and proceeded to cut the roast into thick slices between the rib bones. Low and behold and much to my pleasure I began to salivate, and wholly welcomed the decadent sight of juicy and tenderly-cooked meat. Moreover when I sat down to completely indulge in the tasting experience of my roast, I hardly noticed the jus or anything else on my plate so much I was captivated by the pure flavors of the local, naturally-raised meat.
If that experience alone wasn't enough to convince me that meat does in fact hold a very desirable appeal to me, I have since roasted a whole chicken in a similar low and slow fashion following the ideas of a recipe I found in Italian Two Easy, Simple Recipes from the London River Cafe, by Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers. Although I chose to enhance the flavor of my local free-range 3.5 pound chicken with fresh sprigs of tarragon and garlic rather than the rosemary and sage the recipe called for, and only rubbed 1 tablespoon of butter onto the skin rather than the instructed 10, I pretty much obeyed the cooking instructions to the letter. After preheating the oven to 200 degrees, cleaning the chicken, and seasoning and stuffing the cavity with my enhancers; I placed the chicken up-side-down in a heavy-duty pan, added a little under a cup of water, and put the lot into the oven for the first hour. For hour two I turned the chicken onto its right side, and for hour three onto its left. For the final stage I removed the chicken from the oven, turned the oven up to 400 degrees, rubbed my tablespoon of butter into the chicken, seasoned it, and added half a cup of dry vermouth to the pan. The chicken then went back into the oven for a final half hour at the higher temperature to obtain a golden hue and crisp exterior. Exactly as with the pork, the flavor, tenderness, and juiciness, of the chicken was incomparable to a lot of the roast chickens I've had in my past.
Although I have no doubt that a meat's best flavors and textures may truly be obtained via other cooking methods, I think mine is a palette strictly for the low and slow method. Here's to a lot of advanced planning, simple preparation, and, I say this with truth, meaty goodness!!!