I was in the grocery store, and saw a little single-rib standing rib roast. I suppose to be accurate, I do need to call it by its correct name--it wasn't a "prime" cut, it was the much more readily available, and less shockingly expensive, "choice". In fact, it was on sale for $6.49 a pound, which made it very affordable. I brought it home, wrapped it in cheesecloth, and set it on a small rack on a dish in the fridge to dry age it a bit. Dry-aging at home is a trick Jim and I first tried a few years back after seeing Alton do it, and surprisingly, it does make quite a difference. The meat, after four or five days in the fridge, takes on density and suppleness that you just don't see in a roast straight out of it's cellophane prison.
dry-aged roast--I should have taken a before pic for a comparison,
but my well-aged brain doesn't think that quick any more
The best way to cook a standing rib roast has to be one of the most contentious cooking topics under discussion out in cyberspace. High heat first, then low. Low heat first, then high. How low? 175, 200, 250, 275... How high? 400, 425, 450, 475, 500. Or, 350 steady on. High heat all the way. Sear first, don't sear. Simple seasoning with salt and pepper. Complicated marinade or rub. There is even a Paula Deen method that involves cooking the roast for an hour on 350, turning off the oven, and letting the roast sit in the unopened oven for another three hours. Though that method has its advocates, I doubt I will ever try it, because when I am cooking a grand roast dinner, I don't really have the time to tie up my lone oven for four solid hours.
Since I had a very small roast, I opted for scoring the fat (for more surface), searing it first (just the top, not the sides) and convection cooking it at 250 degrees. With the roast at 2/12 pounds, that took about an hour.
it took about 10 minutes to sear off this small roast, and start
the browning process-- a large roast will take a few minutes more
I like the sear, rather than the blast in a very hot oven, because it browns the surface rather than heating the entire roast like a scorching oven would. After the sear, I coated the meat with a wet rub of garlic, rosemary, salt, pepper, and olive oil. I settled on a 250 degree oven because it was gentle enough to keep the meat nice and pink throughout, but not so gentle that I was going to spend most of the afternoon babysitting a roast. And babysitting it is. Temperature is everything if you want rosy pink, juicy meat. If you prefer gray shoe leather, then wander off and read Anna Karenina, by all means.
The correct temperature to take it out of the oven for medium rare is also a contentious point. In my opinion, most of the recommendations, both on the web and in cookbooks, skew too high. I have settled on between 110 degrees and 118 degrees for beef, depending on the cut. If there is no bone, I skew toward the lower end, because the meat has less protection from the heat. If it is on the bone, I tend to land between 115 and 118, depending on the size of the cut. For this small roast, 118 was the magic number. Yes, I know. When you look in any cookbook, medium rare clocks in at 135 to 140. Well, the issue that never seems to get addressed is thermal gain during the rest. And a roast needs a rest out of the oven. You would too, if you just spent a few hours in a 250 degree sauna. After a thirty minute rest, my little roast had made its way all the way up to an internal temperature of 136 degrees, which is perfect.
my resting roast, foil removed for portrait sitting,
surprisingly brown on the sides after a low temp cooking.
I think that the convection action really aids browning
While the roast recovered from its ordeal, I made some popovers, along with a jus, or thin gravy if you aren't Frenchified. I want to burst another little myth out there in cooking land. It is common for recipes to admonish cooks that whatever pan or cups they are cooking their popovers or Yorkshire puddings in must be smoking hot before the batter is added, or they won't puff. Well, I have done it both ways, and it's utter poppycock. I think, the only real differences between a popover and a Yorkshire pudding are that Yorkies are always made with beef fat from a roast, and usually cooked in one big piece, often right in the roasting pan. Popovers can use any sort of fat, and are usually individual servings.
popovers, started in a room-temperature pan--
if that isn't puffed, I don't know what is...
Taking the popovers out of the oven a few minutes before they are done, poking a couple of holes in them with a skewer, and putting them back in the oven to finish browning will release some of the steam, and keep the popovers from becoming too soft and doughy.
I made a broth of wine and beefstock on the stove, then added
the aromatics and what little drippings there were after the meat came out--
the addition of some agar-agar (an asian gelatin) gave it a very silky texture
The roast was juicy and pink, served here with mashed peas,
a popover, and the strained jus on the side
So, with this experiment under my belt, I am entering the roast beef fray. Sear, then into a 250 oven until the roast hits 118, then at least a 30 minute rest. That's my two cents.
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