I'm sure you're familiar with the "frozen meat guy." You know the one. He knocks on your door, offering a "great discount" on some prime, grade A, superfantastic steaks, chicken or pork because your neighbor was supposed to get a delivery and wasn't home, or the guy two blocks down cancelled his order, or the old lady who ordered 500 pounds of meat died, or whatever? Yeah, you know him.
He's a sleazy character, for sure. But admit it. You've been tempted. Discount on steak? Vacuum-sealed, flash frozen, guaranteed for a full YEAR? Confess. You've thought about it.
So, sleazy meat guy knocked on our door a few days ago. I always send them packing, and usually not very nicely, since I have a very clear "no solicitors" sign, complete with a photo of Jack Bauer looking angry, posted prominently next to my front door. Ignore the sign, and you feel my wrath.
I didn't answer the door. Hub did. Now, Hub hears the word "meat" and turns into a slathering idiot, susceptible to the slightest powers of suggestion. He's addicted to the stuff. He invited sleazy meat man into MY HOUSE, and let him put his frozen dead cow all over my leather couch and launch into his sales pitch.
Glassy-eyed, and clearly under the spell of meat man and his wares, Hub handed over the cash, and suddenly we were the proud owners of a box of "bacon-wrapped fillets," a box of "New York strip steaks," and a box of "Chopped steak patties." Uh huh.
If you've ever succumbed to the charms of sleazy frozen meat man, you know all to well that this stuff is what the butchers throw on the floor. But, to make Hub happy, I cooked up a couple of the New Yorks. HORRIBLE. Is this even meat?
Okay, so the next night, he wanted to try the fillets. Now, for argument's sake, the box doesn't actually say WHAT part of the cow was filleted to make this "steak." And they were wrapped in bacon---fat. Again, completely inedible.
So, stuck with a box of these nightmarish nuggets, I decided I needed to figure out a way to make them useful, palatable, and not waste perfectly good food money by using them to keep people off my lawn (they are the perfect size and shape for throwing at passers-by).
Since the look, cut and texture of the "fillets" was that of a cheap chuck roast, I thought I would try braising them, bacon-on. Digging through the cabinet, I found I had:
4 frozen, bacon-wrapped fillets of doom. (but any cheap beef and a couple slices of bacon will do)
A can of stewed, diced tomatoes
About 2 cups of leftover fusilli pasta, already cooked
Some red wine leftover from New Year's Eve
A dash of Worcestershire
A dash of "Kitchen Bouquet," that lovely brown goo that covers a multitude of culinary sins
Freshly ground pepper
Whole dried oregano leaves
Garlic salt with parsley
Olive oil
I seasoned both sides of the "steaks" with pepper, oregano and garlic salt, and seared them on each side in olive oil over medium-high heat until they were nicely browned.
Once they were browned, I dumped in the tomatoes, about 1/4 cup of wine, the Worcestershire and Kitchen Bouquet. Stirred the whole mess up, reduced the heat to simmer, covered it and let it simmer for about two hours, stirring the sauce a couple of times to keep the bottom from burning.
After two hours, with great trepidation, I tasted the sauce. It was magnificent! Beefy, with a slight tang from the tomatoes, a little sweetness and smokiness from the bacon and seasonings, and a nice acid balance from the wine. It was a beautiful deep reddish brown, just lovely.
I removed the bacon from each fillet, because it was just a gelatinous glob and I didn't want THAT in my food. Then "pulled" the meat with two forks into bite-sized pieces, stirred in the pasta, let it heat through, and served it.
I'm particularly proud of this meal, because honestly, I was considering just throwing out the steaks. They were that bad. It's nice to know I can make yummy goodness out of something so awful! Hub loved it, too!
