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Created by Chef Thomas
Brisket, brined for days in salt and spice, then poached so gently the kitchen barely notices until the smell fills every room. Carved thick, with whole carrots and a parsley sauce that earns its place.
There's a quiet satisfaction in deciding, five days before you eat, what dinner will be. Salt beef asks for that. Not skill, not fuss, just the willingness to plan ahead and then leave things alone. You make a brine on Sunday, lower a piece of brisket into it, and put it in the fridge. The kitchen carries on around it. By Friday, the salt has done its slow, invisible work, and you have something worth cooking.
On the day, you lift the beef from its bath, rinse it, and set it to poach in clean water with an onion, some celery, a couple of bay leaves. The kitchen fills slowly. Not a roasting smell, something gentler: savoury and deep, with a mineral warmth from the cure. The carrots go in towards the end, to cook in that same liquor and carry its flavour to the plate. This is a London meal, in the truest sense. The kind of thing you'd queue for on Brick Lane, but better when you've made it yourself and the house smells like it.
Parsley sauce is not optional. It's the thing that lifts the plate from good to right. A proper white sauce, thick with chopped parsley, loosened with a ladle of the poaching liquor, sharpened with a touch of English mustard. The beef goes on a warm plate, sliced against the grain, pink if you used saltpetre, grey-brown and honest if you didn't. Carrots alongside. Sauce over everything. There are few better feelings than putting this in front of someone on a cold evening.
The leftovers are half the point. Cold salt beef in a beigel with mustard and a gherkin is another meal entirely, and just as good. I wrote it down in the notebook once: beef, brine, five days, worth it. I still think that covers it.
Quantity
2kg, flat cut
rolled and tied by the butcher
Quantity
250g
Quantity
100g
Quantity
2 litres
Quantity
2 teaspoons
Quantity
1 teaspoon
lightly crushed
Quantity
4
Quantity
4
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1
halved
Quantity
2
snapped in half
Quantity
6 medium
peeled and left whole
Quantity
40g
Quantity
40g
Quantity
300ml
Quantity
200ml
Quantity
large bunch
finely chopped
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
to taste
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| beef brisketrolled and tied by the butcher | 2kg, flat cut |
| coarse sea salt | 250g |
| demerara sugar | 100g |
| water | 2 litres |
| black peppercorns | 2 teaspoons |
| juniper berrieslightly crushed | 1 teaspoon |
| bay leaves | 4 |
| cloves | 4 |
| saltpetre (optional) | 1 teaspoon |
| onionhalved | 1 |
| celery stickssnapped in half | 2 |
| carrotspeeled and left whole | 6 medium |
| unsalted butter | 40g |
| plain flour | 40g |
| whole milk | 300ml |
| poaching liquor | 200ml |
| flat-leaf parsleyfinely chopped | large bunch |
| English mustard | 1 teaspoon |
| fine sea salt and white pepper | to taste |
Put the water, salt, sugar, peppercorns, juniper berries, bay leaves, cloves and saltpetre (if using) into a large saucepan. Bring to the boil, stirring until the salt and sugar dissolve. Take it off the heat and leave it to cool completely. This matters. You cannot put raw meat into a warm brine. Let it go stone cold, patient as you like.
Place the brisket in a container large enough to hold it submerged: a deep ceramic dish, a large plastic tub, a stockpot. Pour the cooled brine over the beef. It must be fully covered. If it bobs up, weigh it down with a plate. Cover and refrigerate for five to seven days. Turn it once a day if you remember. If you forget, it won't matter much. The brine is doing the work.
When the brining days are up, lift the beef from the brine and rinse it well under cold running water. Discard the brine. Place the beef in a large, clean pot and cover with fresh cold water. Add the halved onion, the celery sticks, and a couple of the bay leaves from the spice rack if you have them. Bring to the boil. A scum will rise to the surface in the first few minutes. Skim it off with a spoon. Then turn the heat right down to the gentlest simmer you can manage: a few lazy bubbles breaking the surface, nothing more.
Let the beef poach gently for three to three and a half hours, depending on the size and thickness of your piece. Top up with a kettle of boiling water if the level drops below the meat. You'll know it's done when a skewer or sharp knife slides into the thickest part with almost no resistance, like pushing into warm butter. The meat should feel yielding, not firm.
About forty minutes before the beef is ready, add the whole peeled carrots to the pot. They'll cook in the poaching liquor and take on a gentle, savoury sweetness that plain boiled carrots never have. They're done when a knife tip meets no resistance at the thickest part. Lift them out carefully and keep warm.
While the carrots cook, make the sauce. Melt the butter in a saucepan over a medium heat. When it foams, add the flour and stir it into a smooth paste. Cook it for a minute or two, stirring constantly, until it smells biscuity and has lost its raw flour taste. Your nose will tell you. Pour in the milk, a good splash at a time, stirring well between each addition to keep the sauce smooth. When all the milk is in, ladle in the poaching liquor from the beef pot. This is what gives the sauce its backbone: a savoury depth that milk alone can't provide. Let it simmer gently for five minutes, stirring now and then, until it coats the back of a spoon.
Take the sauce off the heat. Stir in the chopped parsley, generous amounts of it, more than looks reasonable. The sauce should be green-flecked and fragrant, not white with a few token leaves. Add the English mustard and a grind of white pepper. Taste it. Season with salt only if it needs it; the poaching liquor may have done that job already. The sauce should taste bright and savoury, with the parsley right at the front.
Lift the beef from the pot onto a board. Let it rest for ten minutes. Slice it against the grain, as thick or thin as you like, though I prefer it in generous slabs that hold their shape. Lay the slices on warm plates with the whole carrots alongside. Spoon the parsley sauce over everything, or put it in a jug and let people help themselves. There's something about carrying this plate to the table that feels like a proper occasion, even on a Wednesday.
1 serving (about 350g)
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