Charcuterie_ The Craft of Salting, Smoking, and Curing - Michael Ruhlman [25]
There’s a pleasing contradiction in the brine. Salt, as we know, dehydrates—it draws moisture out of the cells of the meat. Yet while a brine’s main effect on meat is to dehydrate it, a brine nevertheless results in a moister, juicier cut, and one that stays juicy even on reheating. The reason for this seeming contradiction, explains Russ Parsons, who has written about the subject both in the Los Angeles Times and in his book, How to Read a French Fry, is that salt changes the shape of the protein in the meat or bird so that it can actually hold more juice than unbrined meat. Salt allows the protein molecules to expand, to connect more loosely, and thus contain more water within each cell. Salt makes each cell, in essence, plump up.
Because of this effect, roasting a brined chicken or turkey and hitting it at just the right point of doneness is easier than with an unbrined chicken. You can actually overcook it, in fact, and it can still be juicier than a perfectly cooked bird that wasn’t brined. The brine seems to allow the breast to withstand the high temperature while the slowpoke legs and thighs continue to cook. At Five Lakes Grill, Brian always brines the pork chops so that no matter who’s working the line that day, the end result will be exactly the same, a chop with just the right amount of seasoning and always very, very juicy.
And there’s an added benefit that usually goes unmentioned, but is not insignificant. Brined meat has been shown to harbor lower populations of harmful bacteria than unbrined meat, the result of salt’s time-tested effect of curing. It dehydrates those living things, either killing them or preventing them from multiplying.
Turkeys, because of their very large, very lean breasts, benefit most from brining. Do you always want to brine a chicken before you roast it? Probably not, because it requires some additional work—and forethought. Also, the texture of the skin is altered by brining, cooking up dark brown and shiny because the brine has taken all the water out of it. It’s a lot easier simply to salt the chicken and pop it into a hot oven. But if you like to cook, you will certainly want to have the brining technique (and a basic brine ratio) in your repertoire. (If you’re thinking ahead but aren’t going to brine the bird, salt your bird a day before cooking it, and it will be even better, the salt having had a chance to penetrate the flesh deeply, as with a brine. Really the only culinary difference between a brine—salt with water—and a dry cure—salt without water—is the ability to introduce a variety of seasonings and flavors in a way that they, and the salt, uniformly surround and penetrate the meat.)
A brine should also include a third component: sugar. Sugar helps to balance out some of the harsher effects of salt and enhances flavor. Finally, because sugar browns so nicely, it helps to give a deep rich color to the surface or skin of roasted meats.
Sugar can usually be used in any of its various forms—white or brown sugar, honey, molasses, dextrose, maple sugar or syrup. Depends what you’re making. Dextrose is a refined corn sugar, sometimes called baker’s sugar; it is very fine and therefore dissolves easily. For ham or fresh pork, brown sugar or honey has an excellent effect.
A fourth optional but often desirable component is an additional flavoring ingredient—herbs, spices, or aromatic vegetables. As the brine itself penetrates the meat, it brings with it the additional flavors. You might add tarragon, parsley, and thyme to your salted water for an herb-brined turkey or turkey breast. Brian’s Five Lakes brine for pork chops includes sage, garlic, and juniper berries. Corned beef uses pickling spices in its brine. If you use aromatic components (which in chefs’ vernacular are called aromats), it’s important to heat your brine first so that the flavors fully