–Simon
Ribeye
You’re Doing it Wrong: Ground Beef
I’ve talked before about how you’re probably cooking meat wrong, because you’ve probably listened to a bullshit article that was regurgitated second-hand information that swam the backwaters of the internet cesspool until the original source was lost to digital entropy.
I get it. Spending 5 minutes instead of 5 seconds to verify information and perhaps seek out alternate opinions is hard. You just want to get back to wasting time on ADHD social media feeds. And if you’re bothering to still be reading this post at all, you’re probably angrily scrolling past my intro to get to the information.
But the real tragedy is SEO – search engine optimization. They won the algorithm battle, and search engines no longer prioritize delivering meaningful content. I usually ignore page 1 search results by default now.
Okay okay, so on to the real article.
Store-bought ground beef sucks. Here’s what you can get:
- Pre-packaged tubes. This is throwaway meat from the worst livestock, and an amalgam of pink slime and pure fat – often from different suppliers, mixed to the USDA-certified proportions and squirted into an opaque tube so you can’t see the contents. It will be greasy, dry, adulterated with lots of water, and if you get sick you’re out of luck because no single slaughterhouse of origin can be pinpointed since their contracts prohibit the manufacturer from listing them on the package and the FDA will never be able to track it down as a result and so other people will get sick too.
- Low-cost bulk case meat at your local grocery meat counter. They would like you to think this is a bargain because they’re grinding up all their scrap meat, so you might be getting ground prime ribeye after all! And indeed you might be getting some of that. But the bulk of these grinds isn’t trimming, it’s frozen blocks of bull meat. How do I know? Because I used to do this myself as a college job. Of interest to me is I don’t know how to find a source for the giant meat blocks. It’s very well hidden from internet sleuthing, so it must be a USDA supplier arrangement with ConAgra or something, with commercial license required. But here’s what the machines look like: https://berkelmiami.com/collections/frozen-block-chippers/products/biro-fbc-4800ss-frozen-block-chipper. Basically, junk meat is frozen and molded into blocks designed for these machines which slice them into chips that will fit into a grinder. Mix the chips with the day’s trimmings, and there’s some ground beef. It’s actually not too bad, but there’s still the issue with questionable multiple suppliers and the subterfuge that annoys me. Plus, we can do better.
- Local grocery packaged ground beef, labeled. The labeling is no joke – you can’t lie about this, but the USDA still allows a degree of fudging the words. If it’s expensive, it’s probably what it says it is on the package, but it’s still a gamble and could just be what the bulk meat is in the case, albeit with a hefty markup.
- You pick out meat and and ask the butcher to grind it for you. Probably your best option, if you trust what’s going on back by the grinder. And how clean that machine is.
What’s the point of this post? No reason, other than this information doesn’t appear to be available anywhere else, and certainly not in once concise location. And it’s all part of my perfect burger journey. Don’t trust beef you didn’t grind yourself. Grind your own.
–Simon
Halcyon Days
Suicide Month is upon us again, and as a result I begin to contemplate happier times. Nostalgia is dangerous with its filtered remembrance of history. It’s a driving force behind MAGA and the glory of 1950s America, and The Roaring 20s before that. I don’t wish to go back to those time periods, but I do have my own Halcyon Days. The cruelty of which, as Calvin’s dad puts it, are awarded retroactively:
Based simply on the time periods I daydream about, I consider My Halcyon Days, or years rather, to be: 2017-2020.
As nostalgia is purely emotional, I was interested in why I thought these days were so good. Looking back through my personal timeline, here’s my reasoning:
- I moved from hourly work to salaried. With that came significantly more work autonomy (better job satisfaction and agency), and money. In fact during this time my household ranged from the 76th to 85th percentile in national income levels. Prior to that we were 66th. If the gold standards for middle class income is the middle 5th, which would be the 40th-60th percentile; or all but the top and bottom 20%, so the 20th-80th percentile (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Middle_class) – then we essentially overcame middle classdom during this time. For people living the standard middle class politician soundbites prior (“X# of families can’t absorb an unexpected $1,000 expense”, etc.), I think this socioeconomic change was significant to my stress level reduction for the first time in my working life.
- I started this blog in February 2017. I think this is more a representative corollary than evidence, but if I began an intentional record of my existence, I must have been finally interested in my own continued living, and finally starting paying attention to the moment instead of potential future goals. And looking back through it, it’s apparent that I had the energy for the multitude of hobbies I maintained at that time.
- Youth! I achieved the mental maturity to master my own priorities, while also being young enough to bounce back from failure. And I had much better cardio and strength. I just felt physically good.
- We bought the house the year prior, and while I wouldn’t go back to an apartment now, as a new homeowner I was still excited with its future, rather than worrying about its ongoing maintenance costs.
- I witnessed the kid’s formative years. For better or worse, a parent always looks back on the experiences with a growing kid, once that kid inevitably becomes a teenager. And now I’m once again concerning myself with her future expenses.
- This was all just before COVID lockdowns. An irreparable societal change, some consequences of which were certainly for the better, but many of which were not. This coincided with a job promotion, but in the process I lost the camaraderie I had built with my former team and was then denied the opportunity find that same rapport with my new department. It was never the same since, despite the perks of working from home. And while the home office saves me the irritations of cubicle life which I’ve so often criticized before, it replaced that feeling of being a physical embodiment of success. The confidence I felt waltzing into the office lobby wearing khakis and button-down in a sports jacket, then returning home so-attired and parking my sedan in the driveway while checking the mailbox and waving to my neighbor…was all replaced with slipping on cargo pants and a t-shirt and walking down to my basement. The iconic suburban fantasy had ended.
The conclusion? I suppose life just had finally felt fine, and the present was tolerable, and the future held with some optimism. To quote the Wikipedia article:
“The phrase has since come to refer to any peaceful time. Its proper meaning, however, is that of a lucky break, or a bright interval set in the midst of adversity”
Which I’ve now come to identify perfectly with this period in my life, as the current times are anything but peaceful and devoid of adversity. And again, as Calvin’s dad acknowledges, it had to pass for me to be able to know it had happened at all. Those were good days.
–Simon