How-To Guides

How to Cook Beef Ossobuco

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What Is Ossobuco Beef?

How to Cook Beef Ossobuco: In Lombardy, if you were to ask a waiter for some ‘bone with a hole’, there’s a good chance Ossobuco Milanese would arrive at your table. While the famous dish is traditionally made with veal rather than beef shin, it has inspired this cut. It comes from the top of the beef shin and contains the prized bone marrow. The inclusion of the marrow creates a wonderfully gelatinous texture and delivers incredible flavour.

How Long Does It Take to Cook Beef Ossobuco?

Time is your friend when cooking beef ossobuco; expect to slowly simmer this great cut for around 2.5 to 3.5 hours, until the meat is soft, tender, and easily coming away from the bone. This is a cut where, depending on the animal, cooking times can vary greatly, so be prepared to cook for longer if needed.

How to Cook Beef Ossobuco

Beef Ossobuco Stew: A Simple Preparation

  1. Remove the ossobuco from the fridge and its packaging.
  2. Dust the ossobuco with flour seasoned with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper.
  3. Heat a heavy-bottomed casserole dish over high heat and add a little olive oil. Brown the osso buco on both sides, in batches if necessary. Remove from the pan and set aside.
  4. Reduce the heat and add a soffritto of onions, celery, carrots, and garlic. Cook for 15-20 minutes, until completely soft.
  5. Deglaze the pan with a large glass of wine, followed by a little stock and some tinned tomatoes.
  6. Return the meat to the pan and bring everything to a simmer. Cover with a lid, turn the heat down to the lowest setting, and cook for 2-3 hours, stirring occasionally.
  7. Once the meat is tender and breaks apart with a spoon, it’s ready to serve.

Top Tips When Cooking Beef Ossobuco

  • As with all stews, it’s best to prepare all the ingredients for your soffritto before you start cooking. Keep them ready on the side, then add them as needed.
  • If you’d like to add some herbs or spices, sage or a star anise can be a nice touch.
  • Beef shin can become tough if cooked at too high a heat, so make sure to keep the heat as gentle as possible.

Ossobuco Beef Recipe

The dish from which this cut takes its name is traditionally served with risotto Milanese. However, the more developed flavour of the beef (as ossobuco is typically made with veal shin) may not pair as well with this. Instead, try serving it with wet polenta, enriched with plenty of butter and Parmesan.

For something from the other side of the globe, you could try a fragrant Thai beef shin stew, served with sticky rice and plenty of chilli oil. I’ve also seen it used very successfully in a beef shin rendang – an excellent meal. For more inspiration, Anna Tobias’ beef ossobuco recipe is also available on our journal.

Order meat online

Jorge hails from the Black Mountains where he grew up surrounded by hardy, native livestock. His passion for cookery was sparked by his upbringing, but developed and intensified alongside his respect for British breeds, and zeal for nose-to-tail eating.

In 2009 trained chef Jorge launched Swaledale in Haworth, and took his native-breed led whole-carcass butchery philosophy to high profile restaurateurs. Jorge is a passionate procurer and hanger of meat, and is keen to showcase the sublime taste and texture that comes from ageing, higher fat content, and an older carcass. Jorge proudly invests in native-breeds, as maintaining their market demand is crucial to their very survival.

Jorge studied Creative Writing at Leeds University, and is a former Welsh athletics champion. He lives with his wife, ceramicist Amy Thomas, and their three children – Fynn, Bea, and Matilda – on a remote grouse moor in West Yorkshire.

Instagram

  • Do you love bacon? Here’s our in house science and history teacher, @grylos, talking osmosis, salt, and the slow work of dry curing bacon.
  • Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
  • On many a recipe, the instruction ‘brown your mince’ is set out plainly enough. And yet, deep into January, when slow cooking is very much back on the table and recipes keep asking for the same thing, it feels worth saying that this is meant quite literally. Brown your mince. It does not say grey it. Browning is a process, not a gesture. It takes time, heat, and a little patience, and what you are doing is building flavour, not simply warming meat through. When mince is rushed, crowded into the pan, stirred too soon, it stews. It turns grey. The moisture stays put and the flavour never quite arrives. So here is @grylos , taking a moment to explain the difference, and to remind you that if you want the most from good produce, you have to let it work. Give it space. Leave it alone long enough to colour properly. Let it smell right before you move on. Because this is slow food month, after all. There is no need to hurry. Take your time, do it properly, and you will taste the difference in the finished dish.
  • Winter. It felt strange being in Yorkshire, watching the news from the south where snow lay thick and sudden, while here January had arrived quietly, cold and wet, but not yet truly winter as we know it. Up here the season has always moved at a slower pace, and there is something steadying in remembering that. The idea that we should charge straight on after Christmas is a modern one, and it sits awkwardly with bodies and minds that are still tuned to pause, to take stock, to look back at the year just gone. Out on the farms, there is no rush but plenty to do. Some are already lambing, others preparing for it, working with the land rather than against it as the days begin, almost imperceptibly, to lengthen. The fields are still subdued, but there are signs, if you look closely, that life is beginning to stir again. And so, it feels right, now and then, to slow everything down and simply notice Yorkshire in January, not as something to be endured, but as a quiet and beautiful part of the year in its own right.
  • Now the depths of winter descend. The excitement of Christmas has passed, but do not let that fool you. These months are still some of the best for eating roasted meats and leaning into deeper, newer flavour profiles. Here is a traditional, and not so traditional, approach to our pork middle. We send a lot of our pork middles out to chefs, ready for them to stuff and roast in their own way, using both the loin and the belly. You will see plenty of porchetta on the market that uses just the belly. This is different. Using both cuts gives balance, structure, and allows the flavour of the pork itself to shine. For our website, we also offer a less traditional version, stuffed simply with our fennel sausage meat. That brings seasoning right through the joint, and a little extra fat to help keep everything moist during a long, slow roast. It is a brilliant cut to have, either as a roast or the following day, sliced cold for sandwiches.
  • Chef George Ryle @grylos, signing off the year with us. A delicious Christmas ham glaze. Nothing clever. Nothing rushed, but some useful tips. Thank you for watching, cooking along, and sticking with us this year. Merry Christmas.
  • We like doing things properly. Smoking is one of them. It is not sterile or shiny. But have you ever been to a smokehouse in Arbroath? If you have, you will know what this looks like. That black tar on the walls comes from years of smoke and years of meat. That is the point. We still smoke food properly. Many do not. Much of what you see labelled as smoked has barely seen smoke at all. For us, that matters. Food done properly matters. It will matter even more in the years ahead. So when you buy something from us and it says smoked, you know exactly what that means.
  • Much of the beef on tables and in kitchens at this time of year comes from Bill Whittaker’s herd of Belted Galloway cattle. They graze land in the shadow of Ingleborough, feeding on diverse forage shaped by limestone ground. It is land that suits the cattle, and cattle that suit the land. We usually receive Bill’s beef once a year, when it is ready. It is always a good moment when it arrives. Beef like this cannot be rushed. It follows the season. This is the way we like to work. Smaller farms, running the right cattle on the right ground, producing beef that fits the rhythm of the year. As we head into the new year, we are always keen to hear from other farmers working with native breeds, regenerative systems, and properly pasture-fed livestock. If that sounds like you, and you have something coming through, do get in touch.
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
Do you love bacon? Here’s our in house science and history teacher, @grylos, talking osmosis, salt, and the slow work of dry curing bacon.
1 day ago
2425
View on Instagram |
1/8
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
2 days ago
933
View on Instagram |
2/8
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
On many a recipe, the instruction ‘brown your mince’ is set out plainly enough. And yet, deep into January, when slow cooking is very much back on the table and recipes keep asking for the same thing, it feels worth saying that this is meant quite literally. Brown your mince. It does not say grey it. Browning is a process, not a gesture. It takes time, heat, and a little patience, and what you are doing is building flavour, not simply warming meat through. When mince is rushed, crowded into the pan, stirred too soon, it stews. It turns grey. The moisture stays put and the flavour never quite arrives. So here is @grylos , taking a moment to explain the difference, and to remind you that if you want the most from good produce, you have to let it work. Give it space. Leave it alone long enough to colour properly. Let it smell right before you move on. Because this is slow food month, after all. There is no need to hurry. Take your time, do it properly, and you will taste the difference in the finished dish.
1 week ago
2667
View on Instagram |
3/8
Winter. It felt strange being in Yorkshire, watching the news from the south where snow lay thick and sudden, while here January had arrived quietly, cold and wet, but not yet truly winter as we know it. Up here the season has always moved at a slower pace, and there is something steadying in remembering that. The idea that we should charge straight on after Christmas is a modern one, and it sits awkwardly with bodies and minds that are still tuned to pause, to take stock, to look back at the year just gone. Out on the farms, there is no rush but plenty to do. Some are already lambing, others preparing for it, working with the land rather than against it as the days begin, almost imperceptibly, to lengthen. The fields are still subdued, but there are signs, if you look closely, that life is beginning to stir again. And so, it feels right, now and then, to slow everything down and simply notice Yorkshire in January, not as something to be endured, but as a quiet and beautiful part of the year in its own right.
Winter. It felt strange being in Yorkshire, watching the news from the south where snow lay thick and sudden, while here January had arrived quietly, cold and wet, but not yet truly winter as we know it. Up here the season has always moved at a slower pace, and there is something steadying in remembering that. The idea that we should charge straight on after Christmas is a modern one, and it sits awkwardly with bodies and minds that are still tuned to pause, to take stock, to look back at the year just gone. Out on the farms, there is no rush but plenty to do. Some are already lambing, others preparing for it, working with the land rather than against it as the days begin, almost imperceptibly, to lengthen. The fields are still subdued, but there are signs, if you look closely, that life is beginning to stir again. And so, it feels right, now and then, to slow everything down and simply notice Yorkshire in January, not as something to be endured, but as a quiet and beautiful part of the year in its own right.
Winter. It felt strange being in Yorkshire, watching the news from the south where snow lay thick and sudden, while here January had arrived quietly, cold and wet, but not yet truly winter as we know it. Up here the season has always moved at a slower pace, and there is something steadying in remembering that. The idea that we should charge straight on after Christmas is a modern one, and it sits awkwardly with bodies and minds that are still tuned to pause, to take stock, to look back at the year just gone. Out on the farms, there is no rush but plenty to do. Some are already lambing, others preparing for it, working with the land rather than against it as the days begin, almost imperceptibly, to lengthen. The fields are still subdued, but there are signs, if you look closely, that life is beginning to stir again. And so, it feels right, now and then, to slow everything down and simply notice Yorkshire in January, not as something to be endured, but as a quiet and beautiful part of the year in its own right.
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
Winter. It felt strange being in Yorkshire, watching the news from the south where snow lay thick and sudden, while here January had arrived quietly, cold and wet, but not yet truly winter as we know it. Up here the season has always moved at a slower pace, and there is something steadying in remembering that. The idea that we should charge straight on after Christmas is a modern one, and it sits awkwardly with bodies and minds that are still tuned to pause, to take stock, to look back at the year just gone. Out on the farms, there is no rush but plenty to do. Some are already lambing, others preparing for it, working with the land rather than against it as the days begin, almost imperceptibly, to lengthen. The fields are still subdued, but there are signs, if you look closely, that life is beginning to stir again. And so, it feels right, now and then, to slow everything down and simply notice Yorkshire in January, not as something to be endured, but as a quiet and beautiful part of the year in its own right.
2 weeks ago
672
View on Instagram |
4/8
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
Now the depths of winter descend. The excitement of Christmas has passed, but do not let that fool you. These months are still some of the best for eating roasted meats and leaning into deeper, newer flavour profiles. Here is a traditional, and not so traditional, approach to our pork middle. We send a lot of our pork middles out to chefs, ready for them to stuff and roast in their own way, using both the loin and the belly. You will see plenty of porchetta on the market that uses just the belly. This is different. Using both cuts gives balance, structure, and allows the flavour of the pork itself to shine. For our website, we also offer a less traditional version, stuffed simply with our fennel sausage meat. That brings seasoning right through the joint, and a little extra fat to help keep everything moist during a long, slow roast. It is a brilliant cut to have, either as a roast or the following day, sliced cold for sandwiches.
3 weeks ago
1371
View on Instagram |
5/8
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
Chef George Ryle @grylos, signing off the year with us. A delicious Christmas ham glaze. Nothing clever. Nothing rushed, but some useful tips. Thank you for watching, cooking along, and sticking with us this year. Merry Christmas.
1 month ago
1,30530
View on Instagram |
6/8
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
We like doing things properly. Smoking is one of them. It is not sterile or shiny. But have you ever been to a smokehouse in Arbroath? If you have, you will know what this looks like. That black tar on the walls comes from years of smoke and years of meat. That is the point. We still smoke food properly. Many do not. Much of what you see labelled as smoked has barely seen smoke at all. For us, that matters. Food done properly matters. It will matter even more in the years ahead. So when you buy something from us and it says smoked, you know exactly what that means.
1 month ago
36917
View on Instagram |
7/8
Much of the beef on tables and in kitchens at this time of year comes from Bill Whittaker’s herd of Belted Galloway cattle. They graze land in the shadow of Ingleborough, feeding on diverse forage shaped by limestone ground. It is land that suits the cattle, and cattle that suit the land. We usually receive Bill’s beef once a year, when it is ready. It is always a good moment when it arrives. Beef like this cannot be rushed. It follows the season. This is the way we like to work. Smaller farms, running the right cattle on the right ground, producing beef that fits the rhythm of the year. As we head into the new year, we are always keen to hear from other farmers working with native breeds, regenerative systems, and properly pasture-fed livestock. If that sounds like you, and you have something coming through, do get in touch.
Much of the beef on tables and in kitchens at this time of year comes from Bill Whittaker’s herd of Belted Galloway cattle. They graze land in the shadow of Ingleborough, feeding on diverse forage shaped by limestone ground. It is land that suits the cattle, and cattle that suit the land. We usually receive Bill’s beef once a year, when it is ready. It is always a good moment when it arrives. Beef like this cannot be rushed. It follows the season. This is the way we like to work. Smaller farms, running the right cattle on the right ground, producing beef that fits the rhythm of the year. As we head into the new year, we are always keen to hear from other farmers working with native breeds, regenerative systems, and properly pasture-fed livestock. If that sounds like you, and you have something coming through, do get in touch.
Much of the beef on tables and in kitchens at this time of year comes from Bill Whittaker’s herd of Belted Galloway cattle. They graze land in the shadow of Ingleborough, feeding on diverse forage shaped by limestone ground. It is land that suits the cattle, and cattle that suit the land. We usually receive Bill’s beef once a year, when it is ready. It is always a good moment when it arrives. Beef like this cannot be rushed. It follows the season. This is the way we like to work. Smaller farms, running the right cattle on the right ground, producing beef that fits the rhythm of the year. As we head into the new year, we are always keen to hear from other farmers working with native breeds, regenerative systems, and properly pasture-fed livestock. If that sounds like you, and you have something coming through, do get in touch.
Much of the beef on tables and in kitchens at this time of year comes from Bill Whittaker’s herd of Belted Galloway cattle. They graze land in the shadow of Ingleborough, feeding on diverse forage shaped by limestone ground. It is land that suits the cattle, and cattle that suit the land. We usually receive Bill’s beef once a year, when it is ready. It is always a good moment when it arrives. Beef like this cannot be rushed. It follows the season. This is the way we like to work. Smaller farms, running the right cattle on the right ground, producing beef that fits the rhythm of the year. As we head into the new year, we are always keen to hear from other farmers working with native breeds, regenerative systems, and properly pasture-fed livestock. If that sounds like you, and you have something coming through, do get in touch.
Much of the beef on tables and in kitchens at this time of year comes from Bill Whittaker’s herd of Belted Galloway cattle. They graze land in the shadow of Ingleborough, feeding on diverse forage shaped by limestone ground. It is land that suits the cattle, and cattle that suit the land. We usually receive Bill’s beef once a year, when it is ready. It is always a good moment when it arrives. Beef like this cannot be rushed. It follows the season. This is the way we like to work. Smaller farms, running the right cattle on the right ground, producing beef that fits the rhythm of the year. As we head into the new year, we are always keen to hear from other farmers working with native breeds, regenerative systems, and properly pasture-fed livestock. If that sounds like you, and you have something coming through, do get in touch.
Much of the beef on tables and in kitchens at this time of year comes from Bill Whittaker’s herd of Belted Galloway cattle. They graze land in the shadow of Ingleborough, feeding on diverse forage shaped by limestone ground. It is land that suits the cattle, and cattle that suit the land. We usually receive Bill’s beef once a year, when it is ready. It is always a good moment when it arrives. Beef like this cannot be rushed. It follows the season. This is the way we like to work. Smaller farms, running the right cattle on the right ground, producing beef that fits the rhythm of the year. As we head into the new year, we are always keen to hear from other farmers working with native breeds, regenerative systems, and properly pasture-fed livestock. If that sounds like you, and you have something coming through, do get in touch.
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
Much of the beef on tables and in kitchens at this time of year comes from Bill Whittaker’s herd of Belted Galloway cattle. They graze land in the shadow of Ingleborough, feeding on diverse forage shaped by limestone ground. It is land that suits the cattle, and cattle that suit the land. We usually receive Bill’s beef once a year, when it is ready. It is always a good moment when it arrives. Beef like this cannot be rushed. It follows the season. This is the way we like to work. Smaller farms, running the right cattle on the right ground, producing beef that fits the rhythm of the year. As we head into the new year, we are always keen to hear from other farmers working with native breeds, regenerative systems, and properly pasture-fed livestock. If that sounds like you, and you have something coming through, do get in touch.
1 month ago
1081
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