vaca frita
Way back in the day, approximately 7,900 pandemic years ago in the blessed, corona-free era of 2018, I developed a hard core crush on the city of Miami. (Related: Remember going places?) Growing up on the Gulf Coast, Miami always seemed like a pricey and inconveniently distant alternative to the white sand beaches just a short drive away from me (hi, Santa Rosa beach, miss you boo!) so I never managed to make the trip down. But once I did, at the ripe old age of 33, it took one meal in Little Havana for me to realize what I’d been missing my whole life.
That thing, turns out, was plantains two ways served alongside a giant plate of fried beef and onions. Call me crazy but the never-ending beaches and crystalline pools, the brilliant sunshiney weather with its moody thunderstorm intermissions, and even the Art Deco architecture brimming with nostalgia for the former glory of old Havana’s “Paris of the Caribbean” years, all pale in comparison to Miami’s thrilling food scene. I’ve only just scratched the surface so far - a proper tour of Little Haiti and a quest to find the best key lime pie are high on my list of reasons to get back ASAP. But I mean, tostones and plantanos maduros, croquetas and fresh ceviche, rice and beans and giant of plate vaca frita all in the same meal, can you even?
Perhaps I do tend to over order when dining out in Little Havana, but it’s just as well because I can find no greater justification for suffering through the meat sweats than the blissful memory of having consumed an entire plate of vaca frita all by myself. This Cuban delicacy, which translates literally as “fried cow” has an ingredient list about as short and humble as they come and perhaps the most off-putting cooking technique I’ve yet to encounter (ever boiled flank steak before?). But I will happily cringe as I fish gray hunks of steak out of a dutch oven of boiling meat juice in the name of vaca frita because it is without a doubt the only way I ever want to eat skirt steak for the rest of forever.
This assertion might be a bit rich coming from someone who has never been particularly interested in steak (unless you count Salisbury steak, which you absolutely should not as it is little more than ground beef seasoned with ketchup and worcestershire), but I dare you to show me a more clever way to bring a skirt steak to life when you don’t have access to a grill! I’m convinced the effort would be futile. At the very least, I hope you’ll put this on your lockdown to-cook list. It’s a very creative use for a widely available cut of meat and a happy little wanderlust journey all at once, both of which I’ll take all I can until further notice. Let’s take a little trip to Miami in the kitchen, shall we? I can’t be the only one who needs a little sunshine!
Questions for you: Ever had vaca frita before? Whats your favorite thing to eat in Miami? Holler at me in the comments!
Vaca Frita, a mashup of this Food & Wine recipe and a version from Food52
Serves: 4 heartily, more if you’re not so carnivorous
Cook time (total): around 2 hours, including 1 hour for marinating
2 pounds flank steak, cut into a few manageable chunks
2 medium yellow or white onions, 1 halved and 1 thinly sliced into half moons (shallots also work fine during a global pandemic)
1 green bell pepper, cored and quartered
2 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
1 bay leaf
1 teaspoon cumin
3 limes, 2 juiced plus 1 quartered for serving
Kosher salt, more to taste
Freshly ground pepper
2-3 tablespoons neutral flavored oil, like canola or avocado
Put about two quarts of water in a large dutch oven or saucepan. Add the halved onion, bell pepper pieces, smashed garlic cloves, and bay leaf, and bring to a moderately rolling boil. Once the water boils, take a deep breath, remind yourself everything is going to be delicious, and drop the chunks of raw flank steak in. It feels wrong, but we’re going to make it so right. Boil for 20-25 minutes or until steak is completely cooked through (should take no longer than 30).
Fish the sad gray chunks of flank steak out of the pot and remove them to a cutting board to cool. Strain the veggies out of the stock and reserve it for a future use (like Mexican crock pot beef, this one is my favorite).
While the meat is cooling, prepare your marinade. In a bowl large enough to accommodate the beef, mix the cumin with the juice of two limes, 1 teaspoon of kosher salt, and a few cracks of black pepper.
When the meat is cool enough to handle, shred it, discarding any gristly bits or unpleasant chunks of fat, and transfer to the bowl with the marinade. Give it a few good tosses so that everything is coated nicely with marinade. Leave on the counter to marinate from 30 to 60 minutes. (When I took these photographs, I experimented by adding the onions to marinate with the beef, but prefer them to be left out so that’s how I’ve written it here.)
Heat a tablespoon of oil in large cast iron skillet or frying pan over medium high heat. Working in two or three batches, add a half or third (depending on how many batches you’re doing) of the sliced onion and cook until they are translucent, about 3 minutes. Then add the batch of shredded beef and sauté until the beef is crispy and both the beef and onions have nice pretty brown edges. Remove to a plate for serving. Repeat with remaining batches. Serve with steamed rice or cauliflower rice, and let your tastebuds transport you to the Magic City.
