Soft Meat, Soft Men

There it was, on the menu at L'Impero: Slow-Roasted Veal Chop. L'Impero is one of the most satisfying restaurants in Manhattan. It's a gem. If you eat there, the extra-creamy polenta with mushrooms is not to be missed. Have the chilled pea soup with crab and the spaghetti with tomato and fresh basil. I do not recommend the slow-roasted veal chop, even if it will be exquisitely prepared, moist, and rich. A friend and I shook our heads when we saw it. What an indignity.

We're seeing more and more of this these days, the shameful roasting of meats meant to be broiled. Remember when cooking for men meant hurling slabs of cow flesh under violent flames? Maybe the cooks of today are afraid of getting their eyebrows singed, because wussy meat is the rage. It's another dining trend to decry.

Soft meat makes for soft men. Your beef or veal or pork comes from the oven pale and limp, barely pink in the center, its manliness extinguished. It flops around on the plate when you try to cut it. It melts in your mouth, like tofu.

Missing is the crust, the crunch, the atavistic and symbolic slaying of the beast. And to make matters worse, the absolute worst wine to pair with this kind of preparation is Cabernet Sauvignon. A young, tannic, monstrous red wine will often taste rough until it meets up with fatty, burned beef. Cabernet and char is a perfect pairing.

You might as well get a wine lesson out of this. The correct beverage to match with clammy meat is a German Riesling. Works perfectly. I guess it's time you learned the dubious pleasure of drinking a Spätlese Halbtrocken with your slow-roasted steak.