Recipe: Osso Buco

There’s an element of stigma attached to the slaughter and consumption of doe-eyed, pink nosed baby moo-cows. I don’t think I saw veal on a menu in the UK at all throughout my adolescence. Somewhere in the early nineties, vegetarians and voracious carnivores alike agreed that you just don’t eat calf no more.

By Jjron - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3046666

The UK outlawed veal crates in 1990; the bovine equivalent of foie gras, juvenile cattle were held almost immobile in metal enclosures and fed high fat diets such as milk. The result was a very pale, rich meat, which was very popular “on the continent” (and was finally blanket-banned in the EU in 2007). The knock-on effect of this (totally justified) ban on the cruel treatment of livestock is that red veal has taken some of the negative press of its creamy fleshed cousin.

Nowadays, most of our calf meat comes from male dairy calves (as their milk giving potential is…low). This makes veal a secondary source of income for dairy farmers as they fight off ever more aggressive supermarkets, but while veal has been poised precipitously to make a come-back to the British plate for a few years, it has yet to tip. If you choose to eat meat, I heartily encourage you ask your butcher for some veal; the meat is low fat in comparison to similar cuts of adult beef and other meats, and it really is quite delicious.

Onto the food, then.

Osso Buco (literally Bone Hole) refers simultaneously to the recipe and the chief ingredient; a hearty stew centred around a slow cooked piece of shank. I’ve never seen shank with the bone left in back at home, as butchers these days tend to dice it to sell as stewing beef. In Italy, it’s available at the supermarket, either in a rich sanguinous crimson for the beef version or a paler morsel for the veal. If you’re still unsure about eating veal, or can’t find it, beef is a perfectly good substitute; this recipe is suitable for either. The recipe seems to unanimously belong to the city of Milan – 19^th century Italian food icon Pellegrino Artusi forewarns in his variation of the recipe that it is “best left to the Milanese”, but I think we can break a rule here or there.

Contrary to Italian beliefs, food does not implode when cooked by a pasty foreigner

The cut itself is typified by the cross section of the leg bone (hence the Italian name) held within the meat; you’re going to want to leave that in so that all of the lovely marrow flavours the stew while it cooks. Our sparkly eyed local butcher seemed impressed that two bumbling Brits were asking for such a rustic cut of meat – at home and abroad, shank is a cheap option, because unless you give it the time to cook, it’s usually too fatty and tough to make for a good meal.

Osso Buco, bone left in

The rest of the stew uses a simple vegetable mix to mingle with the meat juices; the result is a hearty broth that suits a variety of accompaniments; we’ve enjoyed it with polenta, although supposedly it’s traditionally served with Risotto alla Milanese (which I’ll be covering soon; a rich and cheesy saffron risotto).

Serves 2-4

You’ll need

One piece of Veal Shank per person

For every 2 pieces of shank:

1 Onion

2 sticks of Celery

2 Carrots

2 cloves of Garlic

200g Butter

2-3 tbsp. Plain Flour

1 glass White Wine

1 meat stock cube or half a pint of beef stock

Salt

Pepper

1.       Peel and chop the onions and carrots, chop celery and slice thinly two cloves of garlic

2.       Fry the onion in butter, add the garlic, then the carrot and celery. Add more butter if you need.

3.       Once they've fried for five minutes, place the pieces of veal on top of the cooking vegetables. Mix up half a pint of stock and measure out a large glass of white wine

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4.       Add the wine to the saucepan, allowing the veal and vegetables to sit in it for a few minutes. Season with salt and pepper while you're at it

5.       Add the stock to the dish, so that the meat is covered (you can add more water if half a pint isn't enough), let it simmer, and cover for one and a half to two hours (you may want to turn the pieces over half way through)

6.       Before you turn off the heat, make up a small roux in a separate pan (about two tablespoons of flour should be enough, though you may want to err on the buttery side) and add it to the main pan, stirring it in gently, so that the stew thickens and goes a little glossy

7.       Once the stew has thickened a little, you’re ready to serve.

Make sure you explore the inside of that bone before you finish – us Brits are unused to eating bone marrow, but if you’ve never tried it before, have a go. It’s good for you.

 How do you feel about veal? Marrow left in or consumed like the voracious carnivore you are?