The aroma of freshly cut meat searing quickly over an open flame is a primal scent – one that encouraged our human progenitors to straighten their spines, walk on two legs, fashion spears and invent fire. During the second half of the 19th century, beef steak became an international obsession and status food. It transformed the American range into the world’s largest feed lot. Between the Civil War and 1880, Midwest cattle populations increased 30 times over. Because Iowa’s fertile soil grew the most grain, the state’s fatted cows produced the gold standard of this new food economy, at a time when food drove all economies.
For a century, the status of Iowa beef extended to New York City steakhouses and beyond. In 1959, Des Moines’ Harry Bookey, then 11, told Russian Premiere Nikita Khrushchev that the USSR might have an edge in satellite technology but that our beef was superior. Khrushchev, a staunch Russian chauvinist, conceded the point to the young debater. Coincidentally, Bookey would become both a lawyer and a restaurateur.
Steak & the Iowa Dream
When Khrushchev visited Des Moines, Iowa beef represented the culmination of one of the great romances in the histories of both agriculture and human migration. When Europeans got word about the fertility of Iowa’s black soil, immigrants flocked across oceans, mountains and hostile forests to realize the American dream of owning land from which they could make a good life. By the end of the 19th century, those immigrants made Iowa a rich state built on fields of grain and pastures of plenty. That wealth was sustainable and a source of pride. Fields produced corn in such abundance that farmers fed it to cattle who had grazed their youth away in clover. Those corn-finished cows moved short distances to packers and lockers. Our steaks were Iowan from birth to aging rooms and famous for their superior marbling.
In 1970, seventy per cent of Iowa farmers raised cattle. Iowa led the nation in beef production between World War II and the 1980’s, peaking in 1969 at 7 million head of cattle. Big changes came by the 1980’s. Because fossil fuels were cheap and Iowa farm land was not, it became more economical for packers to ship grain out west and finish cattle there. Former cattle ranches in Iowa could then be plowed over and planted with government subsidized corn and beans. By the end of the 20th century, most industrial beef came from multiple plants, multiple states and even multiple continents.
Today less than a third of Iowa farmers raise cattle. In 2010 our feedlot population reachrf a post World War II low – 1.8 million. Iowa slipped to the number seven cattle state, trailing states with large tracts of cheaper land.
Steakhouse Aura
As the center of the beef universe moved west from Iowa, the aura of our steakhouse traditions grew like nostalgia at a class reunion. These old culinary symbols of Iowa represented the proud final link of the great 19th and 20th century food chain that stretched from Iowa cornfields and cattle barns to the dining rooms of the best fed people in world history. Steakhouses became touchstones to a great source of Iowa pride and to a collective longing for halcyon days when corn was used for the sustenance of superior livestock, not to fuel cars, sweeten soft drinks, or add cheap filler to practically every processed item one can find in a supermarket.
Steakhouses are also touchstones to the farms and small towns from which many of Des Moines area families moved. Three fourths of Iowa counties peaked in population more than 100 years ago while Des Moines grew continuously. Steakhouses used to cover the state. In smaller towns, they often became surrogate country clubs – the nicest places in entire counties for people to celebrate special occasions of life. Archie’s Waeside in LeMars became a bona fide foodie legend with its dry aging room, James Beard Award winning wine cellar, garden, and nearby landing strip for private planes.
In Iowa’s larger towns, steakhouses developed a wood and leather aura that declared “Real men eat here and cut big deals.” Steaks became an American icon for substance. After all, no Madison Avenue advertising agency, nor any presidential candidate, ever asked “Where’s the bran?”
Steakhouse Sub Genres
The traditional steakhouse carried a rich and masculine image, often with stained glass lamps, linen covered tables, leather chairs and booths, plus bold art or dead animals on its walls. Trostel’s Greenbriar, 801 Steak & Chop House, Sambetti’s, Big Steer, Maxie’s and Jesse’s Embers have represented that in Des Moines for decades. Urban steakhouses developed new auras. Family friendly ones, usually Greek-owned, broke through in the early 1960’s, with inexpensive steaks and no-frills, cafeteria style ambiance. Mr. Filet is a longstanding original from this tradition but chains like Golden Corral, Bonanza and Ryan’s also fit the bill. They found a niche in Iowa at a time when both the restaurant and cattle industries were changing, from independent businesses that competed on quality to corporations driven by economic efficiency. About that same time the US Department of Agriculture downgraded their own rating system for beef, bestowing an aegis of quality on grades previously deemed unworthy.
Beginning in the 1980’s large restaurant companies took the steakhouse into theme park land. Australian chains like Outback, cowboy chains like Montana Mike’s, Lone Star and Longhorn, nostalgia chains like Texas Roadhouse and Johnny‘s Italian Steakhouse, do-it-yourself steakhouses like Rube’s and Iowa Beef, and Japanese teppanyaki like Ohana and Taki burst upon the Central Iowa scene. As the head of the trendy snake swallowed its tail, linen tablecloth, prime beef steakhouses, like Fleming’s and AJ’s at Prairie Meadows, made a comeback. At Sbrocco, chef Andrew Meek began featuring grass finished beef raised on certified organic pasture, as it was 150 years ago in Iowa.
Today steakhouse status is as high as ever. They are even granted special compensation on expense account budgets, because they are a mythological symbol of deal making. Pharmaceutical salespeople note that even cardio-vascular physicians like to be taken to the best steakhouses. New York Times publisher Arthur Salzburger, Jr. once joked during a caucus season that 801 was better known in Manhattan than in Des Moines.
Des Moines’ steak
Steak has become such an Iowa icon that all types of restaurants now serve it here. French cafés like Django, Baru66, Tartine and Bistro Montage have all featured steak frites. Carne asada is served in most Mexican restaurants of Des Moines. Even “Mongolian” barbecues specialize in steak. Italian and Greek restaurants here are much more likely to feature steaks than restaurants in Italy or Greece are. Des Moines’ main stake to steak fame evolved from those. Just about every city restaurant that serves steak serves a version of steak de Burgo. Yet, this dish is virtually unknown outside Iowa, though it’s distinctive sauce is quite similar to chimichurri sauce of South America, zip sauce of Detroit, and allioli of Catalonia and Valencia.
Adamant arguments ensue about: 1) who invented steak de Burgo (Johnny Compiano or Vic Talerico); 2) whether it should be made with butter, olive oil, or both; and 3) whether it should be thickened into a cream sauce or not. One plausible explanation for steak de Burgo’s name is that it evolved cynically out of the Spanish Civil War. During that conflict, Catalonia and Valencia were Republican strongholds while Burgos was the Nationalists‘ base. After the latter prevailed, references to all things from Catalonia and Valencia became taboo in Generalissimo Franco’s dictatorship. Enterprising chefs changed names instead of recipes. The first Des Moines recipes for de Burgo resembled the “allioli” of Catalonia and Valencia. So it would have made sense for a Spanish chef to rename such a preparation “de Burgos” after Franco’s stronghold. And a number of Spaniards immigrated to the same Francis Avenue neighborhood of Des Moines where both Compiano and Talerico lived as young men.
Irony stalks steak de Burgo. The oldest Greek steakhouse in Iowa, Mason City’s Northwestern, has always served a specialty called “Greek style steak” that resembles the earliest olive oil and garlic versions of Des Moines’ steak de Burgo. Yet a Greek steakhouse in West Des Moines, Johnny’s Vets Club, invented the creamy version of steak de Burgo that half of Des Moines loves and another half resents.
Ethanol’s contribution to steakhouse culture
Steak irony in Iowa doesn’t end with de Burgo. One of the latest developments in high end steak has been fueled by the ethanol craze that has diverted Iowa corn from livestock to gas tanks. Atlantic’s Alan Zellmer is using the leftovers from distillers grain to feed Iowa wagyu. That’s the Japanese breed that is used to create legendary Kobe beef, famous for its marbling and healthy profile of good cholesterols. Originally Zellmer raised all his cattle for the Japanese market but now it‘s all sold domestically. Local chefs like Troy Trostel of Greebriar, Matt Steigerwald from Lincoln Café have been using wagyu, from Majinola Meats of Panama Iowa.
Another new development has long term potential. Tenderizing technologies now soften tougher cuts of beef, making them suitable for steaks. That’s why you see many new steaks – Denver, Cordelico, Cabrosa – at the supermarket.
Many of those cuts used to be only suitable for burger.
In Your Hands
Thus, finding your favorite place for steak is more complicated than ever. There are more kinds of steak, from more parts of the cow, than there used to be. There are multiple ethnic styles of preparing it. There are probably more than a dozen versions of some styles, such as de Burgo. Price matters these days and some places are exponentially more expensive than others.
And the winner is…
This year we asked you to determine Iowa’s ultimate place for steak. So many people responded that we began with the 64 places that received the most nominations. They covered the state: west to east from Archie’s Waeside in Lemars and Hawarden Steakhouse in Hawarden to Kalmes’ in St. Donatus and The Palms Supper Club in Fort Madison; north to south from Minerva’s in Okoboji and Unkie’s in Thor to Appanoose Rapids Brewing in Ottumwa and Bogie’s in Albia. Nominations ranged from prime-only steakhouses like Fleming’s and 801 Steak & Chop to family friendly chains like Machine Shed and Bonanza. Some places were known almost exclusively for steaks, such as Rube’s and Iowa Beef Steakhouse. Others were better known for something else, such as Splash or Baru66. Readers touted Italian, French, Japanese and Greek places as well as barbecues, brew pubs and taverns.
During the competition, 14,259 votes were cast, a huge increase from previous challenges. That could be because steakhouses have become a great source of Iowa pride, touchstones to the farms and small towns from which many of Des Moines area families moved. Three fourths of Iowa counties peaked in population more than 100 years ago while Des Moines grew continuously. In smaller towns, steakhouses often became surrogate country clubs – the nicest places in entire counties for people to celebrate special occasions of life. In Iowa’s larger towns, they developed a wood and leather aura that declared “real men eat here and cut big deals.”
After three weeks, a savory 16 finalists were chosen – Chicago Speakeasy, Trostel’s Greenbriar, Tally’s, Rusty Duck, Nick’s Bar & Grill, TR’s Bar & Grill, John & Nick’s, The Big Steer, Gino’s, Iowa Beef Steakhouse, Fleming’s, Tumea & Son’s, Noah’s, Yanni’s, Christopher’s and Texas Roadhouse. The first eight of those places survived the next cut. That meant that neither of Des Moines’ all prime, expense-account steakhouses made the top eight. People seemed to be looking for value in this economy.
Tradition dominated the final four with Chicago Speakeasy and its family spin-off John & Nick’s joining Trostel’s Greenbriar and The Big Steer. Finally, Chicago Speakeasy and Trostel’s Greenbriar squared off in the final giving me an excuse to revisit both places.
When Paul Trostel opened The Greenbriar in 1987, the place was on the outskirts of town. Trostel was a rugby player/rodeo cowboy/chef who broke most of the rules about what would fly in Des Moines. When the culinary gunslinger rode into town from Colorado in the early 1970‘s, Des Moines fine dining was an Italian monopoly. His Colorado Feed & Grain and Rosie’s Cantina demonstrated that first courses could offer more than shrimp cocktails and garlic bread, and that the town would support an serious wine cellar. Since then, Greenbriar has become synonymous with fine dining in Central Iowa.
Paul Trostel died last year. His son Troy runs the kitchen and a third generation works the line part time. Troy’s culinary education was classic European so steaks can be ordered with most any sauce from the Escoffier handbook. The cowboy style “gunpowder steak” though is still the most popular. Its seasoning, close to Cajun, is so popular the restaurant sells it (in four ounce packages for $10).
I chose a grilled gunpowder ribeye for old time sake though a gunpowder elk loin is Troy’s personal favorite. (He also touted his Iowa lamb and Iowa striped bass.) From the seasonal menu I also tried half a citrus marinated chicken served with a marvelous root vegetable sauce, crisped artichoke hearts, and a Manchego risotto. A refresher course in Greeenbriar’s tiramisu reminded me that it’s as good as that dessert gets.
Ron and Mary Jaeger opened Chicago Speakeasy (CS) in 1978. Ron passed away ten years ago but Mary is still CEO and “guiding light.” Three of her children run the daily operations today in a place that has expanded to comfortably seat 150. From Day One, CS featured a 50 item bar of scratch salads. Even the bar was made from scratch. It’s still ice cooled, a labor intensive service that keeps salads cooler than modern conveniences do. Two full time employees make the salads and additional staff replenishes the salad bar at rush hours. Recipes are closely guarded secrets. Curry colored mostaccioli salad, with a pesto like dressing, is the most popular according to Mary’s daughter Julie (Moore). Veggie cottage cheese, black-eyed pea, crab, carrot-apple, pickled herring, pina colado and Oreo cookie salads all have cult followings.
Prime rib has been the featured entrée since CS opened. Mine was made in a slow cooking Alto-Shaam oven and is one of the best bargains in town. Full prime rib dinners, including the salad bar, begin at just $11 (Mondays before 4 p.m.). Even a giant 16 ounce cut never costs more than $23. Steaks are cooked on an open flame grill, or on a flat top stove by request. At dinner, steaks came with choice of starch, including spaghetti, a loaf of freshly baked bread, and the salad bar for $15 – $25. Excellent onion rings were battered, not breaded. All wines were priced $20 – $27.
And the winner is,
Chicago Speakeasy
1520 Euclid Ave., 243-3141
Lunch – Mon. Fri. 11 a.m. – 4 p.m., Dinner – Mon.-Thurs. 4 p.m. – 9 p.m., Fri. – Sat. 4 p.m. – 10 p.m.
Trostel’s Greenbriar
5810 Merle Hay Rd., Johnston, 253-0124
Lunch – Mon. – Fri. 11:30 a.m. – 2 p.m., Dinner – Mon.-Thurs. 5 p.m. – 9 p.m., Fri. – Sat. 5 p.m. – 10 p.m.
Recent Comments