Why French beef can seem tougher than British steak

"Of course your readers are right!”, says renowned  French butcher Yves-Marie Le Bourdonnec when I call him ahead of my interview with Stéphanie Hein. He then gives me a brisk history lesson in butchery.

There are, he says, two approaches to red meat. The British developed theirs from the 16th Century, selecting and breeding cattle for four main traits: a relatively small size, maturity within 18 to 24 months, a grass-fed diet and no horns.

This approach – which Mr Le Bourdonnec calls the Anglo-Saxon tradition – later spread across the Americas, from the United States to Argentina, and as far as Japan. Its focus, he says, is on producing tender meat.

The contrasting continental European tradition, pioneered by France in the early 20th Century, may help explain why more than 40 Connexion readers wrote to us to complain about tough French beef. Most echoed a letter from a former supermarket manager, who described French beef as often “too tough” and attributed this to differences in farming practices.

“I completely concur with the criticism of French meat,” wrote one reader. “I agree – French beef is appallingly tough and tasteless,” wrote another.

Stéphanie Hein, the first – and still the only – woman to earn the title Meilleure Ouvrière de France (MOF) in butchery, the profession’s highest distinction, knows a thing or two about the subject.

“Meat, as a topic, carries a lot of mysticism and intimacy,” she says.

To separate fact from folklore, The Connexion spoke to Ms Hein at her butcher’s shop, La Millésime, in Montlouis-sur-Loire, Indre-et-Loire.

Not all our readers were critical, however. Some defended French beef and those who produce it, while one suggested that differences in cooking traditions might partly explain the complaints.

Another said: “We came to France 37 years ago. We have eaten a lot of beef – it’s a meat we particularly like – and once in all those years, I have had a piece of steak that wasn’t as soft as it could have been. That was cooked by an English friend.”

“Make sure to include that one in your article,” Ms Hein says with a laugh.

Many British readers claim that French beef is often too tough and, in some cases, tasteless. Are they right?

Stéphanie Hein: I would say it is their perception. Where does the meat come from?

This is from a mixture of comments; it is the general impression.

SH: In supermarkets, some butchers lack sufficient training. For example, they may not be familiar with the technique known as affranchi [involving separating tender and tougher parts of a piece of beef, so for example the former can be proposed for grilling and the latter for slow cooking].

Without this knowledge, they may sell meat that has not been properly prepared, leaving customers with cuts that are tougher than expected.

The second issue is quality. In supermarkets, meat is often supplied as séquentiel, meaning that carcasses are cut up by external suppliers, with supermarkets selecting the cuts they want.

The meat is then deboned and vacuum-packed. Supermarket butchers open the vacuum-sealed bags and display the meat. 

Imagine a jigsaw puzzle: an artisanal butcher gets all the pieces of it. Super­markets choose the pieces they want.

In supermarkets, you will also find a mix of meat from different types of cattle, including cows, heifers and young bulls.

As an artisanal butcher, I have no interest in selling tough meat. If customers are dissatisfied, they will not return, and that affects my livelihood. I am genuinely surprised by this question.

Yves-Marie Le Bourdonnec said: “Absolutely they are right!”

SH: Yes, from a cultural and historical standpoint. The English are so accustomed to their own tender meat that, mechanically, when they come to France, the meat seems tougher to them.

Their palates are sensitised to tender meat, which is a hallmark of the English method. Tough meat is not an issue
with an artisan.

In a butcher’s shop, either the cut was poorly chosen for them or their request was not clearly formulated. It is possible that the cut was not the right one.

We pay our farmers to fatten the animals. I use the fat to feed hunting dogs or to make beef fat for cooking. This ensures that the meat retains its flavour and tenderness.

Our readers suggest four reasons behind French beef’s toughness. Let’s go over each of them. First, “the animals are too old”.

SH: Not necessarily. I have eaten older animals that were excellent. It depends on the breed and how the meat is handled.

Breed can influence tenderness, but if the meat is well-prepared, it will be good regardless of the breed. In France, the main breeds are Charolais, Limousin and Maine-Anjou (also known as Rouge des Prés). These are beef breeds. 

There is also the Prim’Holstein, a dairy breed. When dairy cows no longer produce enough milk, they are sent to slaughter and often end up in supermarkets as séquentiel meat.

“Meat is not aged enough”.

SH: This may be true in supermarkets, but not with artisans. In my shop, meat rests for three weeks after slaughter. The muscle fibres relax, and the meat becomes tender. Additionally, we prioritise animal welfare. A relaxed, unstressed animal will produce more tender meat. A stressed or exhausted animal will produce tougher meat.

“Cuts are different”.

SH: True. French butchers have a unique way of cutting meat, which is classified as part of France’s intangible cultural heritage. The butcher’s trade is the only food profession that produces, processes and sells directly to the customer.

“English people do not cook the meat properly.” That’s the comment raised by one of our readers in my introductory section.

SH: I’ve got to say, it is very funny. I am no chef, so I won’t comment.

Do they often ask for meat to be roasted?

SH: Yes, they do a lot of roasting. We categorise meat based on the most suitable cooking method for each cut.

Boiling, braising, grilling, pan-frying and slow cooking each have their designated cuts. 

If they focus solely on slow cooking, it is likely because they only have those specific cuts available, while the rest is likely used for minced meat.

Why is the French cutting style unique?

SH: France is the only country that divides meat into so many specific cuts, and that applies across all types of anim al.

We are in direct contact with our customers. For example, when a customer comes in, I might ask, “Madam, how was your beef roast on Saturday?” This direct interaction ensures that we understand their needs and preferences.

Do you address your English customers in a different manner?

SH: Yes, I ask more questions to ensure we understand each other. Culture and expression differ, so I ask more ques­tions, show, explain and listen. It is very important to understand what the customer wants.

For example, if a customer asks for a steak, I ask whether they prefer a long fibre (such as onglet or bavette) or a short fibre (such as poire or merlan). If they do not understand, I provide examples. I also show them the cut before preparing it, guiding them on thickness, length and other details. This way, the customer leaves with exactly what they wanted.

“Meat, as a topic, carries mysticism and intimacy,” you told me. What do you mean?

SH: I have noticed that meat is something intimate for customers. In my butcher’s shop, we ask many questions because we want to understand what dish the customer is preparing, how they will cook it, how long they will keep it, and for how many people. At first, some customers are surprised or even offended, as if I am asking something private. But once they understand, they become more comfortable and trust us.

Do you adapt your approach for English customers in other ways?

SH: Yes, we use a lot of gestures. We speak a little English, but we mostly use gestures to ensure clarity. We always show the meat before cutting it, demonstrating the thickness, length and other details. This way, we guide the customer, and they guide us. The goal is for them to leave with exactly what they wanted.

Yves-Marie Le Bourdonnec said, “The English always have very tender meat, so they do not need to know how to cook it. The French have firmer, leaner meat that requires a magician to cook.” Do you agree?

SH: There is some truth in that. However, he is older than me and has more historical perspective. He is an old hand in the trade, as we say. I can only speak from my 15 to 17 years of experience. I am still young in the profession. But I think he is right.

What is your view on the way meat is raised?

SH: Personally, I am rather traditional. I believe we should focus on quality rather than yield. When I see American farms on TV with many animals in very small spaces, with no grass, and access to products that we do not use in France because they are banned, it bothers me.

Historically, humans began by hunting in natural environments. For me, a cow, or any animal, should be in a natural environment. When we overcrowd animals in small spaces without grass, it begins to trouble me. Yes, we need efficiency to make a living, but is there not a point where we go too far? With the growing global population, should we not reconsider certain industries?

One American reader commented: “Texas has amazing beef, about half the cost of France’s finest cuts! Why can’t French farmers seek out better genetics and harvesting methods?” How do you respond?

SH: We do not have to follow that path. France has a wide variety of cattle breeds, and we are attached to our terroirs and traditions. We carry out some genetic selection within breeds and some crossbreeding, but limit this to preserve pure breeds.

In my view, we try to maintain a certain line of conduct. We are committed to values and to preserving our breeds. This is what I have observed in my professional career and exchanges. We are truly attached to these principles.