Bill Ackerman (BBQ List)

Cured, Smoked Beef Brisket - a.k.a. Pastrami

If you have the equipment and skill to prepare Texas-style smoked brisket,
then you have most of what you need to create pastrami better than any NYC
Deli 
How I got hooked on pastrami
My pastrami addiction began many years ago. My wife and I had landed at JFK
for a business meeting in NYC. Our client picked us up and asked if we were
hungry (we were starving). We soon found ourselves inside a very small, very
crowded delicatessen in Queens. Before I had a chance to decide what I
wanted, a man behind the counter was yelling at me for my order. I hesitated
for a moment, still trying to make up my mine, which resulted in his yelling
at me even louder. 

Sensing my panic, our client suggested I order the pastrami sandwich. What
happened next permanently changed my culinary world, leading me on a long
and arduous quest to recreate the experience: the preparer stabbed a fork
into a vat of hot liquid and pulled out a big chunk of meat, black on the
outside, dark red on the inside. He cut off a number of thick, juicy slices
and piled them high between slices of warm rye bread, forming a 4-inch thick
sandwich. At our table, I slathered some mustard on the bread and with my
mouth open as wide as possible, I was introduced to a real pastrami
sandwich. The meat melted in my mouth and conspired with the aromatic rye
bread and the spicy mustard to make me a lifelong addict. I think I had
pastrami sandwiches for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day during that
glorious trip.

As soon as possible upon returning home to the Bay Area, I made my way to
the nearest deli in search of a pastrami sandwich like those in New York. My
first inkling that something was amiss was when the server, ever so
politely, asked me for my order; why wasn't she yelling at me? I was even
surer something was wrong when she asked me what kind of bread I wanted my
pastrami on ("... white, french, sourdough, whole wheat, kaiser, dutch
crunch, ..."). And when she asked what condiments I wanted on my sandwich
("...lettuce, tomato, onions, pickles, peppers, mayo, cheese, sprouts
...."), my dreams of a eating a real pastrami sandwich dissolved. 

White bread? Mayo? Sprouts? Polite service? I should have run for the hills.
But we Californians are, if anything, a flexible people. So I allowed the
waitperson to bring me a hot pastrami on rye with nothing but mustard. Even
if she wasn't rude and even if she was totally clueless in matters of
pastrami, someone in the kitchen must surely know how to make a real
pastrami sandwich. This irrational hope was cruelly shattered when my order
arrived. The sandwich was only one-inch thick and the meat-like substance
purported to be pastrami was dry, tough, and devoid of flavor. I took one
bite, which was one bite too many. The first thing I did when I got back to
office was to schedule my next trip to New York.  

That was about 20 years ago. Since then I have eaten a great number of
pastrami sandwiches, some good, many bad, from delis everywhere and even
from my own kitchen. My quest for the perfect pastrami has paralleled my
quest for the perfect pizza and, of course, the perfect BBQ. In all three
cases, the same conclusion was reached: nothing can match homemade. Although
I still make it a point to eat a few pastrami sandwiches every time I visit
NYC, I actually enjoy what comes out my own kitchen more. Granted, it is a
LOT more work, but then, if convenience was the name of the game, you
probably wouldn't be a member of CBBQA. McRibs would suit you just fine. In
case you share the same passion I do for perfect pastrami, here is a guide
to how I make it. 
Meat selection
I've seen all kinds of meats that have been cured, spiced, and smoked called
"pastrami", including turkey, salmon, duck, and even gluten-based meatless
pastrami . But the real deal is made from beef, usually brisket. 

When I started experimenting, I used only heavily trimmed briskets (4-5
pounds) because I didn't know any other kind existed. It is possible to make
pastrami from this cut, but it presents the standard BBQ dilemma: if it is
too small and doesn't have enough fat, it can dry up before the collagen
breaks down.  

I have managed to make "acceptable" pastrami using heavily trimmed brisket,
but the results with untrimmed, packer-cut briskets have been superior in
every way. They are not commonly found in the Bay Area, but Foods Co.
generally carries USDA Select grade (and sometimes Choice grade) for about
$1.49/lb (sometimes on sale for .99/lb). When I can, I get Certified Angus
Beef whole briskets from Nob Hill Foods ($2.49/lb). Look for one with a
complete fat cap and plenty of marbling.  I try to pick one under 10 pounds,
but usually end up with one around 12 pounds. 

Lightly trim away excess fat so that you have a uniform fat cap of about 1/4
inch. Don't cut away too much fat. It is needed to keep the meat moist
during the long cooking process and during reheating. Good pastrami is
fatty. "Lean pastrami" is an oxymoron.
Curing
Curing is the process of exposing the meat to salts and other spices. One
purpose of curing is to help preserve the meat from spoilage. However, my
method for making pastrami does not involve cooking nor storing the meat
within the danger zone (40F - 140F). I cure the brisket for the chemical and
structural changes the meat undergoes that enhance the flavor, texture, and
appearance. This is what is responsible for the difference between pastrami
and the traditional Texas-style, smoked brisket. 

I've tried many formulas for curing. There are wet cures in which the meat
is submerged in a liquid. There are also dry cures in which the salt/spices
are rubbed on the surface of the meat. In both cases, the meat is allowed to
"cure" for several days to several weeks, with dry cures generally taking
longer. I've gotten the best results with a wet cure. Since it can take a
long time for the cure to penetrate the entire brisket from the outside, I
inject some of the cure into the meat.

The two main ingredients in the cure are salt and sugar. The salt works to
remove moisture from the meat. The sugar adds flavor, enhances the effect of
the salt, and also works to balance of the harshness of the salt in the
final product. 

I also use a small amount of sodium nitrite (an ingredient in Prague Powder
#1 - see end of article for source) in the cure. Although used to prevent
botulism poisoning, I use it primarily for the color and special flavor it
adds. There is some controversy in the literature about the possible
carcinogenic effects in rodents of megadoses of nitrite salts. It turns out
that some common vegetables have higher concentrations of nitrites than
those found in cured meats. I'm not worried, but I'm still looking for a
mouse that will eat pastrami.

Instead of granulated sugar, I use dextrose (see source at end of this
article). It is a sugar that dissolves easily in cold water, is less sweet
than regular sugar and penetrates into the meat better. 

The following formula is derived from the excellent book by the late Rytek
Kutas, "Great Sausage Recipes and Meat Curing". I use the same ingredients,
but I've adjusted the ratios based on my own preferences. I've tried cures
that use a lot more ingredients and have come to prefer just a few simple
ingredients to bring out the authentic pastrami flavor. Here is the formula
I use for curing one whole brisket:

2 1/2   quarts          ice cold water (38F-40F)
2 1/2   ounces  Prague Powder #1
1       tablespoon      garlic juice
4       ounces          Kosher Flake Salt (Diamond Crystal) 
4       ounces          powdered dextrose

Mix all of the above until completely dissolved. At this point, you need to
inject about 30 ounces of the cure into the meat. A curing pump (a large
syringe which sprays out solution through multiple holes in all directions -
see source below) is the easiest way. I fill it up and inject cure deep into
the meat at 8 different points to try to get it evenly distributed. Submerge
the brisket completely in the solution. I use FoodSaver vacuum bags (just as
the last air is removed, I press the "manual seal" button.) Place in the
refrigerator at about 40F. If the temperature drops below around 35F, the
curing reactions can be halted. 

The hardest part of the curing step is determining the amount of time to
leave the meat in the cure. Too short and the pastrami will taste under
salted; too much and it will taste over salted. The thickness of the brisket
can have a big influence. Somewhere between 4-5 days seems to work most of
the time for a normal brisket.
Spicing
After removing the brisket from the cure, rinse and dry it. Apply to all
sides of the brisket a rub of coarsely ground black pepper and coriander.
Many other spices can be rubbed on at this point, but, as with the cure, my
preference is to keep it simple.
Smoking
Many recipes instruct you to start with a drying phase and a cold smoke
phase and then to gradually raise the temperature. One reason for this
approach may be to reduce the amount of shrinkage, a critical financial
consideration for commercial operations. However, the most flavorful
pastramis I've ever made have been those that exhibited the most shrinkage.
I immediately place the brisket in a hot smoker and try to maintain the same
temperature throughout the process.

At this point, I assume you know what method works best for your pit when
smoking Texas-style brisket; you will be using the same equipment and skills
for smoking pastrami. The only difference will be that pastrami may take
somewhat less time to cook due to the denaturing caused by the cure.
Maintain a steady, clean fire until the middle of the flat is fork tender
(the tines of a large fork pierce the meat with no resistance). Stay away
from the thick, point portion; it will be tender before the flat. 
Holding/reheating
When the brisket is done, you can serve it right away or allow it to rest
for a while depending on how good you are at fighting off the ravenous
hordes. Pastrami you don't use right away is best stored and reheated in a
brown stock. Great care must be taken when reheating. Don't slice until
after it is reheated. Reheat very gently by bringing the stock up to barely
a simmer. Allow the pastrami to sit in the hot stock until it reaches an
internal temperature of no more than 170F. It is very easy to destroy a
perfectly smoked pastrami by overheating it.
Serving
Do not slice off more than you plan to serve immediately. Going against the
grain, cut off 1/4" slices. Every slice should have some fat, but dispose of
any pieces that are mostly fat.
Place at least a 3-inch pile of pastrami on warm rye bread. Allow each
person to apply the amount of deli-style mustard they prefer and serve with
slaw and pickles on the side.

Now for the most important part: when serving each guest, adopt the surly
attitude of a NYC deli waiter and be prepared to yell at anyone who dares
ask for tomatoes, mayo, or sprouts: "Whadyatink this is? California?"
Sources
Prague powder #1 (a.k.a. Instacure), dextrose powder, and cure pump syringes
can usually be obtained from any supplier of sausage making supplies. I get
mine from The Sausage Maker in Buffalo, NY. (716) 824-5814
http://www.makingsausage.com
 
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Gary,

OK to repost. BUT one disclaimer. Someone tried my method after Frank
Boyer published an article I wrote about smoking pastrami in the
California BBQ Assn newsletter a few years ago. The reader complained to
me that the pastrami he made following my instructions was dry and
tough. Turns out he had never smoked an untrimmed brisket before. My
method assumes you know how to get brisket to the waba-waba stage,
perfectly tender and juicy. This takes a lot of effort, at least for me,
but if you're willing to spend the time, you'll get the best pastrami
you've ever had. 

Bill Ackerman

 

