Jorge The Butcher’s Guide to Steak Storage and Cooking: Expert Q&A

What can give steak a fishy odour or flavour, and how can you tell if it’s still safe to eat rather than spoiled?

Firstly, it’s important to distinguish between the smell of a properly aged steak and one that has begun to spoil. Properly aged steak will have a robust smell, almost nutty, with a hint of blue cheese. The meat itself should be dry, or slightly damp if vacuum packed. Spoilage bacteria on the surface of poorly stored steak can produce a different smell. Trimethylamine, a chemical released as beef fat degrades due to improper storage, causes oxidation and an unpleasant, fishy smell. This odour will also be noticeable when eating the steak.

Are there storage or handling mistakes that encourage oxidation and that off, fishy note?

Oxidation occurs when meat is exposed to air. For this reason, vacuum packing is an excellent storage method, as shelf life is extended in the absence of oxygen. One pitfall to be aware of is ensuring the vacuum seal remains intact. If air enters the bag, the environment changes rapidly. Spoilage bacteria, previously held in check by the lack of oxygen, now flourish. Smaller items, such as prepared steaks, are more vulnerable than larger joints like a rib of beef. In the same chilled environment, the larger cut will spoil more slowly.

Why does a steak curl or “bowl” as it cooks — is it down to fat distribution, heat, trimming, or something else?

Several factors can cause a steak to curl. A dry-aged steak, which has lost moisture, is less inclined to curl than a fresher one. The fresher the steak, the more its shape changes as it cooks, with moisture loss and size reduction contributing to curling. Another factor is the presence of a tendon. Some steaks, such as sirloin, include a tendon (in this case the nuchal ligament) between the flesh and the fat. While this tendon can be removed, doing so may also remove some of the fat, which contributes to flavour. For this reason, it’s often preferable to leave both fat and tendon in place. However, a small incision through the tendon can help prevent curling in the pan.

What practical steps can home cooks take, for example scoring, using a weight, or adjusting the heat, to keep a steak flat in the pan or on the grill?

A well-prepared and aged steak should need minimal intervention. If required, a cast iron steak press can be used to keep the steak in full contact with the pan.

Why is patting a steak dry essential before seasoning or dry-brining if you want a restaurant-quality crust?

Removing surface moisture is crucial, as it can prevent a crust from forming and cause the steak to steam in its own juices. Moisture inhibits the Maillard reaction, a complex series of chemical reactions between amino acids and sugars that occurs when steak is cooked at high heat, resulting in characteristic browning.

Does drying affect how salt penetrates the meat, and how far in advance should you do it for the best results?

Yes, drying is essential, as it allows salt to penetrate more effectively and prepares the surface for browning. The time required varies with the size of the cut. For smaller cuts like steaks, allow at least 45 minutes for the salt to dry the surface and begin penetrating. For thicker cuts, longer is better, ideally overnight. A good rule of thumb is 1% salt by weight of the meat.

Instagram

  • British Pie Week, apparently.

We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right.

This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures.

Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods.

So we thought we would join in.

The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom.

Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks.

A proper pie.

Available this week while they last.
  • It’s easy to become disconnected with the restaurants and kitchens where our meat ends up being prepped, cooked and served. Whilst Instagram can give us a certain understanding of how the food looks; we all know that there is no substitute for experiencing it first-hand. And that is what we had the pleasure of doing this week at the Canton Arms. One of London’s great pubs and one of our oldest, most significant customers. We have been suppling them with exceptional meat since nearly the very beginning of the Swaledale journey. 

Last night was a moment to celebrate that relationship in all its glory; our meat and their cooking and outstanding hospitality coming together for what was a grand evening. We ate, we drank, we chatted in a room that was alive. Long may dining rooms like this thrive and continue to provide people with a space to consume food, booze and hospitality in such a joyous way. 

It was a special night for us, and we hope for everyone who was there. 

Thanks to @chargieb , @cantontrish, @petea25 and the @cantonarms team for being total legends xx

Ps sorry for not getting any decent pics of the food! Was having too much fun.
  • We have all seen the videos. A chicken arrives. Five neat strokes of a knife. It falls apart as if by magic. That comes from thirty years at the block. Most of us do not have that.

So here is a slightly more Radio 4 approach.

A calm, sensible way to take a good chicken and break it down at home. Nothing flashy. Just understanding the joints, working with the bone, and giving each part the respect it deserves. When you do that, you open up a week (almost) of meals. Breasts cooked one way. Legs another. A carcass that becomes stock rather than waste. More on that to follow.

The only things you truly need are a great chicken and a proper knife. Ours is a beautiful honsuki knife kindly supplied by @kitchenprovisions and it does the job expertly. Sharp. Balanced. Delightful.

Watch along as @grylos talks it through.
  • Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
  • Kindred spirits. Hot pans. Spiced mutton.
Swaledale x Canton Arms supper.
Wednesday 25 February.
To book email Thecantonarms@gmail.com

@cantonarms
  • Winter and its cold hands have us fully in a tight embrace right now. And so we find ourselves cooking more often than not, to warm our souls.

A ham at the weekend is one such thing that does the job. It can be used for all kinds of dishes and provide your weekdays with a plethora of fine sandwiches. But this fine cut also produces something else. An excellent, warming stock that should not be thrown away.

In fact, it should be used to make something just as special. A deep, hearty split pea and ham soup. And here is @grylos showing you how to do it. Like most things, if you cook with time and consideration, the by-product is often just as good as the main event.
  • Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop?

This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere.

These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
  • Fancy a bit of a butcher’s tip? Or a hack, if you will. Well look no further. 

Here, @grylos, gets creative with a joint of boned and rolled beef rump, creating three, totally different meals, from the one piece of meat. A great example of some leftfield thinking and the perfect way to add a little variety into your weekly meal planning. Along the spectrum from raw to medium, your week could go a little something like this; tartare and toast lightly rubbed with garlic for lunch on Wednesday; steak night on Friday night, with chips, good red wine and a bowl of bearnaise; a roast dinner on Sunday. Bob’s your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt and a carnivorous and hugely satisfying week of eating is complete. 

All that from a single rolled rump of beef! A life hack if I ever saw one…

Did you know that our rumps won 3 stars at the Great Taste Awards? 3-star rump, you can’t argue with that!
British Pie Week, apparently.

We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right.

This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures.

Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods.

So we thought we would join in.

The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom.

Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks.

A proper pie.

Available this week while they last.
British Pie Week, apparently.

We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right.

This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures.

Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods.

So we thought we would join in.

The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom.

Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks.

A proper pie.

Available this week while they last.
British Pie Week, apparently.

We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right.

This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures.

Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods.

So we thought we would join in.

The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom.

Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks.

A proper pie.

Available this week while they last.
British Pie Week, apparently. We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right. This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures. Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods. So we thought we would join in. The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom. Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks. A proper pie. Available this week while they last.
10 hours ago
26
View on Instagram |
1/8
It’s easy to become disconnected with the restaurants and kitchens where our meat ends up being prepped, cooked and served. Whilst Instagram can give us a certain understanding of how the food looks; we all know that there is no substitute for experiencing it first-hand. And that is what we had the pleasure of doing this week at the Canton Arms. One of London’s great pubs and one of our oldest, most significant customers. We have been suppling them with exceptional meat since nearly the very beginning of the Swaledale journey. 

Last night was a moment to celebrate that relationship in all its glory; our meat and their cooking and outstanding hospitality coming together for what was a grand evening. We ate, we drank, we chatted in a room that was alive. Long may dining rooms like this thrive and continue to provide people with a space to consume food, booze and hospitality in such a joyous way. 

It was a special night for us, and we hope for everyone who was there. 

Thanks to @chargieb , @cantontrish, @petea25 and the @cantonarms team for being total legends xx

Ps sorry for not getting any decent pics of the food! Was having too much fun.
It’s easy to become disconnected with the restaurants and kitchens where our meat ends up being prepped, cooked and served. Whilst Instagram can give us a certain understanding of how the food looks; we all know that there is no substitute for experiencing it first-hand. And that is what we had the pleasure of doing this week at the Canton Arms. One of London’s great pubs and one of our oldest, most significant customers. We have been suppling them with exceptional meat since nearly the very beginning of the Swaledale journey. Last night was a moment to celebrate that relationship in all its glory; our meat and their cooking and outstanding hospitality coming together for what was a grand evening. We ate, we drank, we chatted in a room that was alive. Long may dining rooms like this thrive and continue to provide people with a space to consume food, booze and hospitality in such a joyous way. It was a special night for us, and we hope for everyone who was there. Thanks to @chargieb , @cantontrish, @petea25 and the @cantonarms team for being total legends xx Ps sorry for not getting any decent pics of the food! Was having too much fun.
6 days ago
1464
View on Instagram |
2/8
We have all seen the videos. A chicken arrives. Five neat strokes of a knife. It falls apart as if by magic. That comes from thirty years at the block. Most of us do not have that. So here is a slightly more Radio 4 approach. A calm, sensible way to take a good chicken and break it down at home. Nothing flashy. Just understanding the joints, working with the bone, and giving each part the respect it deserves. When you do that, you open up a week (almost) of meals. Breasts cooked one way. Legs another. A carcass that becomes stock rather than waste. More on that to follow. The only things you truly need are a great chicken and a proper knife. Ours is a beautiful honsuki knife kindly supplied by @kitchenprovisions and it does the job expertly. Sharp. Balanced. Delightful. Watch along as @grylos talks it through.
2 weeks ago
611
View on Instagram |
3/8
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton. It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits. Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat. That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton. There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
3 weeks ago
501
View on Instagram |
4/8
Kindred spirits. Hot pans. Spiced mutton. Swaledale x Canton Arms supper. Wednesday 25 February. To book email Thecantonarms@gmail.com @cantonarms
3 weeks ago
1526
View on Instagram |
5/8
Winter and its cold hands have us fully in a tight embrace right now. And so we find ourselves cooking more often than not, to warm our souls. A ham at the weekend is one such thing that does the job. It can be used for all kinds of dishes and provide your weekdays with a plethora of fine sandwiches. But this fine cut also produces something else. An excellent, warming stock that should not be thrown away. In fact, it should be used to make something just as special. A deep, hearty split pea and ham soup. And here is @grylos showing you how to do it. Like most things, if you cook with time and consideration, the by-product is often just as good as the main event.
4 weeks ago
14516
View on Instagram |
6/8
Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop?

This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere.

These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop?

This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere.

These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop? This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere. These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
1 month ago
472
View on Instagram |
7/8
Fancy a bit of a butcher’s tip? Or a hack, if you will. Well look no further. Here, @grylos, gets creative with a joint of boned and rolled beef rump, creating three, totally different meals, from the one piece of meat. A great example of some leftfield thinking and the perfect way to add a little variety into your weekly meal planning. Along the spectrum from raw to medium, your week could go a little something like this; tartare and toast lightly rubbed with garlic for lunch on Wednesday; steak night on Friday night, with chips, good red wine and a bowl of bearnaise; a roast dinner on Sunday. Bob’s your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt and a carnivorous and hugely satisfying week of eating is complete. All that from a single rolled rump of beef! A life hack if I ever saw one… Did you know that our rumps won 3 stars at the Great Taste Awards? 3-star rump, you can’t argue with that!
1 month ago
2585
View on Instagram |
8/8