Beef shin steak with braised Savoy cabbage, cabbage crisp, burnt cream and Bordelaise sauce

This is a right beefy bonanza and absolute joy on a plate. That is if you love cow and decadent French sauces. Big flavours, rich textures, and if anything will stop your blood flowing, it’s this dish. Shin of beef, braised Savoy cabbage and cabbage crisp, burnt cream and Bordelaise sauce. Doesn’t sound so bad? Yeah, but Bordelaise is made with Demi-Glace, bone marrow, beef fat and red wine. And Demi-Glace is a thick, sticky and intensely beefy glaze, made by slowly reducing Sauce Espagnole and dark beef stock. Espagnole, aka ‘brown sauce’, combines a brown roux with beef stock, a mirepoix, tomatoes and tomato purée. According to Escoffier it takes 2 days to prepare. So when I say big beefy flavours you know what I mean. This is umami central in flavour town.

The question was, what beef to use? A dry-aged steak would be the obvious and traditional choice. Galician old cow would be majestic. Equally splendid would be some Short Horn, ideally dry-aged for a bit longer than the usual 28 days to boost that beefiness. Alternatively, some slow-cooked cheaper cuts are more than worthy of consideration. Onglet with its offal notes. Short rib, bavette or featherblade. Strangely, I opted for shin. Strange because shin is commonly cut into cubes and cooked in a one-pot wonder. For a while now I’ve had this idea to serve shin steaks—this felt like the opportunity to give it a go. I got the idea while prepping lots of beef shins for Goulash. Roberta likes to serve Goulash after midnight during our New Year’s Eve parties. It’s an Austrian tradition.

The shin bone is surrounded by vertical muscles made up of overlapping layers. These layers are separated by silver skin or collagen-based sinew which breaks down when cooked slowly, giving shin its amazing flavour and gelatinous mouthfeel. By butchering the shin to preserve each muscle layer with its silver skin, these could be slow-cooked and served as individual portions of beef, like you would a steak or a Jacob’s Ladder without the rib bone. In theory!

The shin steaks were seasoned, caramelised in hot oil in small batches, then decanted and reserved. Meanwhile, to get all the good stuff off the bottom of the pan the heat was lowered, chopped onions added, lid on, steam. With the sucs lifted, chopped carrot and swede were added and the heat turned up for the vegetables to take on some colour. The shin steaks were returned to the pan with a half bulb of garlic, sprigs of thyme and rosemary, plus orange zest, then covered with red wine and beef stock. The pan was brought to the boil and simmered for 2 hours, until the beef was tender.

I thought the shin steaks might fall apart; slow-cooked meat tends to fall off the bone and is often served pulled or shredded because its structure doesn’t hold up. Actually they held up nicely. Wicked! However, the smaller pieces dried out during the braise. Next time I’ll cut the steaks into equal sizes so they cook evenly.

Some of the braising liquor was passed through a chinois with damp muslin cloth, reduced to a syrup, and finished off the heat with a small knob of cold butter swirled in. This was brushed onto the shin steaks as a glaze, giving them a lovely shine on the plate.

I cheated on the Bordelaise sauce. I didn’t make an Espagnole and Demi Glace. Bad chef. Next time. I opted for a strapping beef stock. 2kg of dry-aged beef bones went into a wide pan and were roasted in a 180C oven until brown. Oooh, the smell in the kitchen! Mmm. The bones were transferred to a stock pot and covered with chicken stock. Some stock was used to lift the sucs from the roasting pan. This was added to the stock pot. Waste no flavour! The bones and stock infused on the hob for 2 hours. The bones were then decanted and the liquid passed through a chinois with damp muslin cloth. Into the fridge to chill.

Meanwhile half a kilo of beef trimmings were diced, browned in a pan, then decanted. Shallots were sweated to lift the sucs with garlic and thyme. Back in with the beef trimmings. Red wine next, and reduced until dry. The chilled beef stock was added after the fat was scraped off the top and left to gently simmer and infuse until there was about 400ml of intense beefy goodness remaining. This was passed through a chinois with damp muslin cloth to reveal a beautiful, clear and glossy beef jus. The jus was reheated for service and finished with cubes of beef fat and bone marrow, finely chopped shallot and fresh chives to create the Bordelaise sauce.

So, cabbage crisps. Yuk, you say? No, no, no. Ever had crispy kale? Both these things are so moreish, either as a healthy snack, or as is the case here, a great garnish. I think the Savoy leaf looks amazing when the light shines through from behind.

Savoy cabbage halves about to braise in the oven

The outer leaves were removed from the Savoy cabbage, blanched in salted boiling water, refreshed in ice water and dried with kitchen roll. The main stalk was cut out from the centre of each leaf. Each leaf was then placed on parchment on a baking tray, brushed with melted buttered seasoned with salt and a little white pepper. The leaves were covered with a sheet of parchment and another tray placed on the top. Into the oven at 150C for around 25 minutes until the leaves became crispy and coloured. The hot leaves between the parchment papers were removed from the hot trays and and placed on a cooling rack. Tip: Leave any crispy things open to the air. If you cover them, say with cling film, they’ll steam and go soggy.

The heart of the cabbage was cut in half through the root. The cut sides were seasoned, brushed with oil, and placed in a hot pan until slightly charred. Crushed garlic and sprigs of thyme were added. Once the garlic turned golden butter joined the party and was cooked to beurre noisette. Chicken stock was added, lid on and into the oven at 160C to braise until tender.

The cooked cabbage was left to cool in the pan before being carefully decanted from the braising liquor. Each half was then tightly rolled in cling film to form a cylinder about 6cm in diameter. Into the fridge to firm up. To serve the cabbage, the cylinder was cut into 4cm disks. These were fried in a little oil—the cut ends only—to bring them up to temperature and add some further colour. Keep the cling film around the circumference to help each disk retain its shape, then remove the wrap before plating. BTW only do this if you’re using Cling Film or another suitable product that is graded to withstand the heat and not melt into the food.

Burnt cream is just naughty. There's no other way to describe it. Double cream reduced in a pan, whisking continuously and gently until thickened and caramelised. Whoa! Try this and you’ll be going straight to Hell, forever corrupted by its shameless depravity. At least put it on your bucket list.

This is not just beef shin, it’s beef sin. I’ll leave you salivating at this close up…

Beef shin and Bordelaise sauce