Portuguese Picanha

I’ve just returned from a wonderful week in the Algarve sunshine. I’m a big fan of Portugal. It’s only a short flight from the UK, yet many parts have managed to evade the hordes of overweight, hamburger eating, tattoo infested, string vest clad, British tourists who have polluted most of the Iberian coastal towns.

It was a family holiday. My pops & Sue hired a villa and invited myself, Tillie & Freddie along with my bro Ross, his wife Sarah and their son Thomas. The villa was located in the town of Carvoeiro, which is about 45 minutes from Faro. The plan for the week, as is normally the case on these types of holidays, was to do little else other than relax in the sunshine and eat lots of great food.

We took it in turns to cook meals, most of which were cooked over the barbecue. All the ingredients were bought fresh each day from either the local supermarket (you can buy good food from foreign supermarkets) or from the local market, which comprises a butcher, fish monger, green grocer and bakery.

On Wednesday, when it was my turn to cook, there was only one thing I had in mind. I took an educated guess that if I requested the Brazilian cut Picanha, it would most likely be understood by the Portuguese speaking butcher. Fortunately I was correct, unfortunately however, he did not have any in stock that day, although he assured me that if I returned on Friday he would have a sizeable 1.5kilo portion in stock for me.

When I returned to pick up the joint I was dismayed to see how much of the cut was fat. I knew from seeing Picanha cooked in the Bahian Rodizio’s that the cut largely comprised of fat, but the joint I was given was probably only about 30% meat. Just to be sure I picked up a couple of large rump steaks to increase the meat ratio and went on my way.

Although I was confident I knew how to cook the Picanha, I had never actually attempted it before. Just to be sure, I took a quick video tutorial courtesy of YouTube then got started. Firstly I chopped the cut into 2/3 inch slices, of which there were 5 in total. Then I skewered the steaks in ‘C’ shapes on top of each other. Finally I rubbed salt all over them and left them for a few hours in the fridge. The rumps I marinated in oil, garlic and herbs and created kebabs with some fresh vegetables.

The cooking process is fairly simple for Picanha. Ideally you would use a rotating spit, but in the case of not having one available it is just as effective to grill using a standard grate, though it is important to turn regularly to make sure the fats are properly cooked. When the meat begins to blacken on the outside it’s time to serve up, which is is the fun part. The pleasure of cooking Picanha is largely to do with the theatre involved in serving it. The waiter arrives at the table with the skewer in one hand and a very sharp knife in the other. In my case there weren’t too many sharp knives available so I had to pop down to the supermarket and buy a new one. Then he slowly slices very thin cuts of meat from the blackened sides of the steaks. As he cooks into the steak the meat gets rarer with every cut until eventually it needs to go back onto the fire for more cooking, after which the process is repeated until everyone’s bellies are full.

Although it was my first attempt at cooking Picanha, it went down a treat. Not only was everyone mightily impressed with the theatrical aspect of my meal, it was universally agreed that the meat tasted delicious. This will certainly not be the last time I attempt cooking Picanha at home.