That’s right, I made me some PIT BISON! I think this may be a first, since searching “pit bison” returns nothing having to do with food, except for links pointing to yours truly…. It’s the largest mammal native to the US – the original American red meat. And it was grown right here in Maryland to boot, at Gunpowder Bison and Trading Company up in Monkton (see pic above). I only recently learned that a bison farming industry even existed in this state, but apparently there are around 13 farms of varying size. Maryland bison, incidentally, will be the subject of my next Citypaper article.

We drove up to the farm to pick up this beautiful (pretty expensive at $8.59/lb) top round roast, but Gunpowder Bison also participates in the fledgling Harbor East farmer’s market on Saturdays. I assumed it would be larger than a beef top round, but it weighed in at 3-4 lbs., same as beef. You will note that it is much darker, a visual cue to the nutritional properties of bison:

I followed the same process as for pit beef, applying a very simple salt/pepper/garlic rub:

You may notice a couple things in the next pic: 1) briquettes – I cooked the pit bison at a friend’s house to christen his new grill, and thought it too douchey to bring my own charcoal (I prefer lump charcoal for grilling); 2) the burgers (also bison) have holes in the middle – that’s a little cooking trick I use for fast, even cooking in my burgers:

The bison top round, charring away nicely:

The finished pit bison, resting:

Slicing thin is even more important here, because bison is denser and leaner than beef, so although I was too humble to bring my own charcoal, I was insistent on bringing my trusty meat slicer:

Slices of incredibly beefy – almost richly so – pit bison:

All tasters were quite impressed, in fact I would say blown away, by the aroma, flavor and texture of the pit bison. The charred “bark” was a bit dry, but the less well done interior was moist and extremely savory. Think of slightly salty, slightly bloody beef, times three and with no metallic hints. It tasted intense but clean, with richness coming from the flesh as opposed to fat. The pit beef went so fast I actually did not have time to get a pic of a completed sandwich. One important note is that I didn’t see anyone put any condiments on their sandwiches, a true testament to the bison’s deliciousness and juiciness. But then I was pretty drunk by then, so I could be totally wrong. Bison, especially a less tender and lean cut like top round, is unsuitable for cooking past medium doneness, because bison is so lean and dense. I actually brought along a few pieces of beef top round, which I then cooked to medium-well for folks who prefer their meat overcooked, heh. More on Gunpowder Bison and bison meat and recipes coming soon.

-Henry Hong

The weck was a bit soggy, but the all-important crystal salt and caraway seeds were intact. The roll itself had slightly more substance and chewiness than a kaiser roll, with a slightly denser crumb:

The beef itself was a far cry from whatever it was the Road Food folks were serenading – slightly-thick-ish slices of well done beef. It was definitely roasted and not some commercial pre-made stuff, but still it was a tad dry, and very lean. I’m guessing it was top round:

Anyway the meat had decent beefy, roasty flavor, but no real discernible seasoning. That is apparently the weck’s job, and I gotta say, though the roll would be way too salty on its own, combined with the bland beef it was a pretty winning combo. The caraway added a bit to flavor of course, but the salt was really the star – it’s a clear, crystal salt that has a very clean flavor and a texture that’s somewhere between crispy, crunchy and sorta icy. Very enjoyable. It seems some believe the salt on Schwabl’s weck is sea salt, but I couldn’t find any conclusive answers.

The only problem was on my particular bun, the salt was unevenly distributed, which resulted in some too salty and some bland bites. I’m hoping this was anomalous. Also, and I don’t know if this is a regional thing or an intentional consideration (re the salt on the weck), but the sandiwch had very evenly stacked meat, i.e. was not mounded - something that I really appreciate.

-Henry Hong

Well, my nightmare scenario has come to fruition. I was wrong. On top of that, I was wrong about food. Worse still, I was wrong about meat. And to top it all off, I was proved wrong by a guy with frosted tips and pinky rings. Chaps Pit Beef was featured on Food Networks’ Diner’s, Drive-Ins and Dives , and my theory about their using precooked roast beef seems to have been debunked. But it was revealed that they use bottom round instead of top round, and add no seasoning whatsoever, which may be why the flavor leaves many, including myself, unimpressed. But I gotta give it to Chaps for being able to turn out such tender bottom round. Also, it was cool to see that the owner and I share the Bulldog as our favorite sandwich. I still prefer Bada Bing Bada Beef, and even The Canopy, to Chaps. And not to sound too self-aggrandizing, but my homemade pit beef blows any of those three away – and it’s easy to make, try it yourself and I guarantee* you will agree.

*I, Henry Hong, hereby guarantee that if my pit beef recipe is followed closely, and the resulting pit beef is not significantly tastier than that of Chaps, Canopy, or Bada Bing Bada Beef, I will buy you a shot of bourbon at a bar of my choosing.

-Henry Hong

Lately I’ve been lamenting the seeming proliferation of fake pit beef, which I believe is actually roast beef that’s been charred before serving. So I finally got around to trying pit beef at home to see just how hard it is. Conclusion: easier than pie, since we all know pie isn’t actually very easy.

On a 1-10 scale of difficulty, I’d give it a 3, only because you need to wait for the beef to marinate and be able to start coals – recipe can be found at the end of this post.

There doesn’t seem to be much out there in the way of background information. The resource that seems to keep popping up is this NYT article written back in 2000. This is totally unacceptable! First of all, it’s New York, secondly it’s almost a decade old, and lastly the whole premise is flawed. Pit beef as nothing to do with barbecue as far as I’m concerned, and thus should ne be referred to as “Baltimore’s answer to barbecue”. What an insult! It’s really a very straightforward grilled beef sandwich, chracterized by a highly charred crust. And no offense to the guy quoted in the article, but gas grilling just ain’t gonna cut it hoss.

I’ve driven by the place mentioned in the article countless times, but have never had a chance to stop by. I plan on going this afternoon, but from the signage I think it may have changed hands, since I see so mention of “”Big Fat Daddy’s”, and only signs that read “Little Texas” and “Cookout” (the latter in magic marker). In any case, though I have yet to actually taste it, the recipe included in the article just seems to be wrong. I’ve never had pit beef with oregano, ’nuff said. As I’ve mentioned before, I think the important factors are using top round, a good, thorough, thick charred crust, medium rare doneness, slightly bloody runoff, and a good kaiser roll as the vehicle. And really, it’s pretty easy.

Instead of ordering a whole top round from my meat guy, I figured it’d be a lot more useful to see what was available at Safeway, which was a cut they labeled as a “Top Round Roast”, which was about 4 pounds at $4.50 per. That’s pretty pricey, but it’s good for 8 decent-sized sandwiches:

I left it as is since it was pretty thoroughly trimmed, and a bit of attached fat is always welcome. I used a very simple rub of salt, black pepper and minced garlic. The garlic is probably non-traditional, but it pretty much disappears into the background in the final product. After rubbing the seasoning in to the meat well, wrap in plastic and let it sit for at least a couple hours, and up to a day:

Now, again, I don’t think pit beef has anything to do with barbecue as we know it here in the US, it’s really grilling since it’s cooked directly over coals. And for grilling, using real lump charcoal is essential – it burns much hotter and cleaner than briquettes, thought not for as long:

Form a deep a crust on the broad sides first – this also accomplishes most of the cooking. To replicate a pit somewhat, arrange the coals in two rows, as far apart as the meat is wide. Then place the meat int the middle and let it go for 15 minutes:

Then turn once to get the other side, and give it another 15 minutes:

Now as you can see, there are still uncharred surfaces, and this is the major flaw in cooking pit beef on a grill, as opposed to a proper pit:

So after you’ve cooked the second side, rotate the beef onto all uncharred sides until the entire surface is nice and crusty. At this point, my 4 pound cut (which was about 4 inches thick at its thickest point), had reached rareness in the center:

If you desire medium-rareness, give it another 5-7 minutes on the grill, with the top closed and vents wide open. Here’s a cross-section of mine:

As I mentioned above, it helps tremendously to have access to a meat slicer, but a very sharp carving knife will suffice. In either case, let the meat rest for about 10 minutes before slicing. Letting it rest for a bit longer may make it easier to slice if you’re doing it by hand:

Note the pool of clear red meat juice. Now for pit beef, I like my roll soaked with this fluid (which isn’t actually blood, rather water with in this case intact myoglobin. As more heat is applied, the myoglobin denatures into larger molecules and stays behind in the meat, leaving the “juice” clear. This will be on the final exam. Anyway, I like the stuff soaked into the roll, but you could go old-school and make a blood and butter sauce by collecting the juice and warming it through over very low heat with fresh butter:

Here’s the final product, and what a proper pit beef roll looks like:

And that’s it, authentic, real pit beef made the way it should be, umm except minus the pit. My pit beef recipe is exceedingly simple, the key is in using the right cut, forming a good crust, and slicing thin against the grain.

Homemade Pit Beef Recipe

1 Top Round Roast, 3-4 pounds

salt (not kosher, unless it’s fine-grain like Diamond), black pepper, garlic (optional)

1. Season the beef thoroughly, wrap with plastic, and refrigerate for a few hours or overnight

2. Over two rows of hot lump charcoal, grill the beef on one side for 15 minutes

3. Turn over and cook for another 15 minutes

4. Char any undercooked surfaces using tongs

NOTE: This pit beef recipe yields rare doneness for a 3-4 lb. piece of top round. Cook longer for a larger piece of beef or for more well done temperature. A whole top round weighing 15-20 lbs. should take about and hour and a half total on a flat-top grill for rare-medium rare. Use a probe thermometer to monitor doneness.

5. Allow the meat to rest for at least ten minutes before slicing

NOTE: When slicing, be sure to slice against the muscle grain

6. Serve on kaiser rolls for added “correctness”

7. If you must, add bbq sauce or horseradish/horseradish sauce – I will post my recipes for both later today

NOTE: I cannot condone the use of ketchup, mustard, or mayonnaise in conjunction with pit beef.

-Henry Hong

Mc-N-Mc Pit

410-254-9894

6317 Harford Rd, Baltimore, MD 21214

Yet another brake-screeching stop in the interest of pit beef. On our way to Big Bad Wolf BBQ on Harford Rd., I caught Mc-N-Mc’s {pronounced “mick-n-mick”) sign out of the corner of my eye. Hopes of stumbling upon the mythical unheralded, really real bbq joint were dashed when we walked in to find what seemed to be a typical, if slightly more run-down, example of a pizza/sub place.

First question of course, are the ribs smoked? Answer: no. I did however detect the smell of charcoal, a rarity in such establishments, so I went ahead and ordered a pit beef sandwich. I was not asked for my preferred doneness however, a major strike against. This spy photo however shows what I considered a glimmer of hope:

A hunk of beef that looks like a hunk a beef, as opposed to a pressed and formed fake roast beef thing. Fingers were crossed, expectations raised slightly. As the seeming owner was wrapping it up, he asked if I wanted anything on it, and I quickly replied “nothing at all”, jadedly assuming he meant toppings in the way of LTM or some such. He gave me a wary look, and I blurted out, “umm how about some horseradish sauce then?” to which he responded with a relieved smile. Himself an aficionado perhaps? Well, it came on a proper roll at least:

It certainly looked like a real pit beef sandwich, despite its dubious carry-out of origin. But dissection revealed tragedy:

The beef was completely and utterly well-done. I fucking knew it, I muttered to myself. But, but but but, damn if it wasn’t an absolutely delicious pit beef sammy. Despite the lack of bloodiness, the meat was just right balance of tender and chewy, and possessed more than ample beef and char flavor, with a well-seasoned crust to boot. I didn’t want to like it, but I was impressed. If there’s such a thing as a good well-done pit beef sandwich (or such a thing as well-done pit beef at all), this is it. In an example of smalltimore coincidence, not three days later, after doing the Dan Rodricks show, engineer Jonathan(sp?) asked if I’d been to Mc-N-Mc during a conversation with the crew about pit beef. And I was happy to say that I indeed had.

-Henry Hong

The Canopy

443-288-1400

9319 Baltimore National Pike, Ellicott City, MD 21042

So this is how dedicated I am to my pit beef census. I picked up a couple sandwiches on my way back from CarterQue, my belly heavy with pig meat. It wasn’t easy stopping to get yet more meat, further delaying a much-needed itis-induced nap. The Canopy has been around for a looong time, but I hadn’t been in a couple years. They bill themselves as a ” barbecue restaurant”, which it really isn’t – unless you count pit beef as Baltimore’s native variant of bbq, and there is a valid argument for that. Well, I’m on the fence about this

place. The pit beef had decent char but not a real crust to speak of, and the pit beef itself was very tender but lacked that slightly metallic, bloody note and slight chewiness that to me denotes “real” pit beef. I’ve surmised that other places, notably the much ballyhooed and disappointing Chaps, don’t actually start with raw top round, but rather use a pre-cooked, brined roast beef and simply char the exterior. I know of at least one place that does this for sure, and I’m about 95% sure about Chaps (the place is set to appear on Food Network next week, which should shed light on the subject). I fear that The Canopy too falls in this dubious category. You can’t really tell by this shot, but in addition to the suspect flavor and tenderness, the slices were all nearly perfectly ovoid, a la deli meat:

Also, the “blood” soaked into the roll wasn’t bloody at all, but had a slight brine flavor, another telltale sign:

All in all a good sandwich, a grilled roast beef sandwich to be precise. That’s my determination at least. Now I could be dead wrong about The Canopy and Chaps for that matter, but if they do start from raw beef, I don’t know what they;’re doing to make it so tender, but whatever it is it’s also detracting from the natural beef flavor.

Bada Bing Bada Beef

410-282-4770

7210 Holabird Ave. Dundalk MD 21222

Open Daily, 10:30 am – 8:00 pm

Thank the lord, real Baltimore pit beef is not dead. As I’ve posted previously, it seems like fake pit beef is spreading out of control in the area. Many places now seem to use straight-up deli cuts, expose them to an open flame for a few minutes, and pass it off as the genuine article. Well we are not rubes dammit! Anyway, I knew there used to be a spot in Dundalk that was good, but I didn’t realize it was named “Bada Bing Bada Beef” Despite this uh, whimsical attribute, this place is the absolute shite.

Sandwiches are constructed from sturdy, cornmeal-y kaiser rolls and unapologetic shards of meat hewn from big, fatty, bloody hunks of top round (though I was told they may be switching to bottom round due to rising costs). Fries were very good, sauces and accoutrements were pretty run of the mill. The sweet tea is no joke – liquid diabetes in a styrofoam cup.

I got beef medium rare, of course:

A telltale sign of true pit beef,bloody bread yeehaw!

Pit ham was excellent as well, though it could have been better trimmed of fat:

Chaps Charcoal Restaurant

410-483-2379

5801 Pulaski Highway, Baltimore, Maryland 21205

Open Daily at 10:30 AM

As always, shitty cellphone pics means dead or forgotten camera – sorry in advance.

Like so many other foods, real pit beef is dying off right before our eyes. I happen to live within a few miles of Chaps on Pulaski highway, which I guess recently has attained a rep as the go-to pit beef spot round these parts. It’s pretty good but not really real. Two things should jump out at pit beef enthusiasts from the get go – there’s barely any char or crust on the meat, and it is way too tender (also a characteristic of the “pit” beef at Key Pit Stop, which I sorta reviewed for the Citypaper ‘08 Eat Guide). After peeking into the kitchen from across the counter, it’s immediately apparent that this place uses pre-prepared deli meat, instead of cooking from scratch. Now this may make some sense for pit ham, or perhaps even pit turkey, but for real pit beef, I need to have that deep, dark char and slightly chewy, bloody texture you get from medium-rare bottom round. Here’s my default order, the bulldog (pit beef, sausage, cheese), genius in concept if not execution:

The ribs here are actually worse than I could have possibly expected. They’re completely untrimmed spareribs, so in a full order you actually only get 3 ribs, with lots of the coarser “outside” meat, fat and gristle attached. Very unattractive. Plus they are obviously boiled or baked, lacking any smoke flavor at all:

…and then simply thrown on the grill briefly before getting doused with sauce that tastes like genereic supermarket or Sysco. Very bland and more akin to eating pork roast than ribs. DO NOT WANT! Note the total absence of a smoke ring:

There used to be a place out in Dundalk on Wise Ave. I think, that used to have good pit beef, and then there’s Little Texas, also on Pulaski, but I haven’t tried it yet. Anybody out there have any suggestions?