Beer-delaise and Philly-Style Cheese Flank Steak

Posted by johngl

I had some left-over flank steak.  I had a lot of beef stock in the fridge. I had some habanero cheddar cheese. I had one bottle of beer on the wall. The most glorious spousal unit had her Cheez Whiz.  Oddly, we even had some buns.

Grilled Flank Steak Sandwich.  That stuff up front is the beer-delaise sauce

So what’s all this hooey about beer-delaise?



Well, you start with a beer.  As I said, I only had the one.  I am probably the only person you know that has 300 bottles of wine on hand (in case of emergencies) and only one freaking beer.

The label says, that porter was the beer of choice for London laborers and transportation workers.  It goes on to say that “like workingmen, porters are big and burly. Unlike workingmen, they are rich and deep.”  I found it amusing.

Obviously a riff on bordelaise, the object here was to reduce the wine beer to a near-syrup consistency.  I grabbed my wonderful Windsor tinned-copper flared-sided sauce pan, and dumped in the bottle of beer.

This is what happens when a porter boils.  That was a lot of foam.  It mellowed right out when I turned the heat down a tad.

I let it simmer for about twenty minutes and it reduced to what you see above.  It didn’t quite get syrupy, but it certainly reduced well enough.  At this point it’s flavor was truly rich, big, and burly.  It reminded me more of coffee than beer.  Hold onto that thought a minute…

This is some gelatinous beefy goo that I had in the fridge.  It was made from roasted marrow bones.  It needed to be reduced to a demi-glace consistency.

I’d reduced it by at least a third, then added some fresh-cut herbs.  Thyme, oregano, marjoram, and sage…

…then I added about three tablespoonsful of that reduced porter (and two whole coffee beans — you can release that thought now.  Since the reduced porter had a bit of coffee taste to it, I decided to run with it.  Hence, the coffee beans.)  I let the herbs and coffee beans steep for several minutes (ala a bouquet garni) then removed them and strained the sauce.

After a few more minutes of reduction, it looked something like this:

Now that is rich, burly, and beefy. It had the consistency of maple syrup.  Note how it stuck to the side of the pan.  So, now you know how to take an hour to make a sauce for a sandwich.  Actually, this would be a kick-ass sauce for a hunk of steak, too.  Luckily, there was some left!

Time for the cow flesh.

I whipped out my favorite chef’s knife and, using some creative slicery, I cut that flank steak thinly and placed it into sandwich-sized piles.  Salt and pepper followed.

Then off to the griddle (it was raining!  Yay rain! — we’re in a nasty drought).

Searing these off was about a two minute trick.  Just make sure the griddle is smoking hot!

I toasted some buns and placed that habanero cheddar on the bun.  It was quickly followed by the grilled beef.

And then that reduction:

I put a little of that sauce on the upper part of the bun, too.

These Philly-style sammies are designed to be messy to eat.  The juice is supposed to run down your arm and drip off your elbow.  Dress accordingly.

The most glorious one had hers with Cheez Whiz:

As I was assembling the sammies, the unit raided the wine cellar and came out with a 2004 Bleasdale Mulberry Tree Cabernet Sauvignon that we picked up for $13 two years ago.  I should have bought more.

Inky in color, this juice of the gods stood up to the spicy habanero cheese like it was made for it.  On the palate it was fully flavored, yet had great balance, and was amazingly rich — the tannins had softened nicely over the past couple of years. Dark berry flavors up front mellowed on the long-lasting soft finish.

Coupled with the steak sandwich, this was truly an amazing late lunch.

So, if you are looking for something to throw together for a meal, pop open the fridge and you might be surprized with what you find in there (besides science experiments).