I Ate Raw Beef From Six Different Cultures

The “Raw Beef King” in Skyrim. All art by Tanzanian Wojak — The “Raw Beef King” in Skyrim. *All art by Tanzanian Wojak*

We all have that one friend. One day, they’re normal, and the next, they’re flooding your inbox with articles that allege a vast international conspiracy. “You know, I’m thinking about cutting meat out from my diet,” they say. You notice your friend responds to your texts less and less, and only then with new, scary-sounding words. Finally, they block you. You race to their Facebook. Their latest status confirms your suspicion—your friend has been radicalized into full-blown veganism.

We here at Countere Magazine have no quarrel with the vegan; they form our ranks, and we’ve even interviewed a “fruitarian” before. But for every militant vegan who swears by the superiority of a meatless life, oblivious to the drainage of their life force due to malnutrition (not all of course), rises the hooded lifter at 5:30 am who shovels into his mouth 16 assorted pellets of powdered beef tallow, beef liver, and beef brain. At night, we spy the lifter through his window: he twirls in the kitchen, streaking black pepper, sea salt, and cardamom into the air as the utensils dance and sing around him; the seasonings land in a silver bowl, which contains the essence of his power—raw beef.

I am far from the first to understand this. Aajonus Vonderplanitz was a controversial nutritionist who endured a sickly childhood, including cancer at age 21, which drove him to seek alternative treatments. He became a raw vegan at age 25, and at age 29, he discovered raw meat, to which he attributed his full recovery. Vonderplanitz claimed that cooking destroys vital nutrients, and he preached that the healthiest people on earth eat foods high in cholesterol. His “Primal Diet” prescribed raw meat, raw dairy, and raw fat; its devoted followers claimed it solved their own incurable ailments from cancer to arthritis to depression. Vonderplanitz made many enemies in the medical-government complex, and he died in 2013 under mysterious circumstances in Thailand.

To this day, a stigma remains in the United States against raw meat, even as the mainstream finally warms up to Vonderplanitz’s assertions on cooking, cholesterol, and gut health. This “stigma against raw” is encouraged by the government and politicians, who actively favor industrial farms which expel such a horrid quality of meat that to eat them raw would in fact be a death wish. “Eating raw goes hand-in-hand with ascertaining high quality control,” N’golo Tesla, a popular raw beef advocate on Twitter, tells Countere over DM. By discriminating against raw foods—watch how people react when you slonk a raw egg!—we lose an eternal and timeless source of vitality.

The author ate raw beef from the six places above.

I write this article to educate the modern West that foods like raw beef are nothing to be scared of, in fact we should seek them out, and they are already all around us, albeit in ethnic enclaves—bring them into the light! A society that rejects raw meat is an exception in world history, not the norm. Japan, Russia, Brazil, Lebanon, Korea, Italy, Turkey, and countless others have well-known traditions of eating raw meat. “Indigenous” groups also favor raw meat: Inuits have a near-mystic connection with raw seal meat and blood, which they insist keeps them warmer and strong. I chose to eat raw beef dishes from five different continents; when I couldn’t find them in a local restaurant, I made them myself.

Author’s note: Listen to me very closely, not all raw beef is good beef. The industrial enemies of raw foods are looking to make an example out of you. As Raw Egg Nationalist says, if you’re going to eat raw beef, it must be the best quality and totally fresh; “the steak can only be filet.” Do what I did: drive into the country, find a farmer, watch them cut the filet in front of you, and eat it no less than an hour or two later. Do not inform anyone of your plans. Dispose of any remains in the woods. Clear your internet history after you read this.

From Habesha Market & Carry-out in Washington D.C. All photos of food by the author — From Habesha Market & Carry-out in Washington D.C. *All photos of food by the author*

Kitfo — Ethiopia/Eritrea

Kitfo is one of my favorite foods of all time. It consists of minced raw beef and a special type of emulsified, spiced butter known as niter kibbeh. For Ethiopians and Eritreans, it is considered a celebration food, served on holidays and weddings, though affluent people eat kitfo whenever. Kitfo is often served with a mild cheese called ayibe and cooked greens called gomen. To eat it, you tear off a piece of slightly sour injera bread and roll the kitfo into it, making an earthy, satisfying morsel.

Kitfo is quite difficult to make at home, specifically in preparing the niter kibbeh. I currently stay close to D.C, and an Eritrean girlfriend of mine urged me to visit Habesha Market & Carry-out to get my kitfo kick, insisting they were the cleanest and best. At Habesha, I watched stout, scowling East African women feed the raw beef into a giant grinder, mix it in a steel pot, and dole it out with a large wooden spoon onto my plate seen above.

Bò Tái Chanh — Vietnam

Bò tái chanh, crudely translated to “rare beef lemon” in Vietnamese, probably began my raw beef addiction. My parents used to take us to a Vietnamese restaurant where we’d always eat this as an appetizer. Similar to ceviche, bò tái chanh is ostensibly “cooked” using the acid of lime or lemon juice, though the texture and taste remain the same, arguably elevated. While bò tái chanh doesn’t have the cultural significance of kitfo—it’s relegated to the appetizers on most menus—it’s still cosmically good. When France colonized Vietnam, they left their fragrant aromas over all their foods; it shows in bò tái chanh, a mouthwatering mix of raw beef, lime, cilantro, onion, crushed peanuts, and fish sauce.

I happened to be visiting my editor in Cleveland, who directed me to Number One Pho for the town’s best, and only, bò tài chanh. Extra beef, I ordered. It came out quickly and I devoured it in minutes. Very light, very fresh, very delicious.

Parisa — Texas, USA

Next up was Texas’ own parisa, aka “cowboy ceviche.” Turns out, even pre-WWII America had a tradition of eating raw meat that lingers in some states: ”cannibal sandwiches” of raw meat on rye are still eaten in Wisconsin. Parisa was developed by French immigrants to Texas in the late 1800s. It mixes raw beef with Southwestern flavors like diced onions, jalapeno peppers, and cheddar cheese; the concoction is marinated in lime juice for a day, then served with crackers.

One does not simply buy fresh parisa from a store, unless you’re in deep Texas—so I made it myself. I sealed the ingredients into a Tupperware container and waited a day. Thought it was pungent upon opening, it tasted mild, salty, and cheesy, like the flavor profile of a Lunchable. I let it sit for another day, after which it tasted much better: the cheddar flavor subsided and it became more earthy. Still, I couldn’t help but think of this as a “poor man’s steak tartare.” Which brings me to…

Steak Tartare — Raw Egg Nationalism

You may be wondering, “What is raw egg nationalism?” It is a movement that promotes health and vitality through the slonking of raw eggs. Some call it a esoteric subculture, others, an ideology that threatens to topple the very foundations of the postwar liberal international order. In 2019, Dr. Benjamin Braddock penned a now-lost Twitter thread defining the principles of Raw Egg Nationalism, which were later enshrined in an article; this summer, pseudonymous scholar Raw Egg Nationalist published the first hardbound tome of the Raw Egg Nationalism canon, Raw Egg Nationalism Cookbook (which actually includes a feature on Aajonus Vonderplanitz).

Raw Egg Nationalist, the author, is a former chef, and he included a recipe for steak tartare in The Raw Egg Nationalist Cookbook. Given that steak tartare is the Beef Wellington of the raw world—every culinary aspirant must perfect theirs—I had to see how Raw Egg Nationalism’s tartare stacked against the other cultures of the world. I was delighted to find it was among the best. While kitfo or parisa use spiced butter or lime juice to separate you from the true nature of the raw beef, this steak tartare relies on no extra dressings—only fresh gherkins, shallots, parsley, and the yolk of a raw egg. I still think about its intoxicating aftertaste. Raw Egg Nationalist’s steak tartare is meant to spotlight the best cuts of beef—and given that my filet mignon from my local farmer cost less than $15, I plan to continue eating it regularly.

Bistec Alemán — Chile

Bistec alemán, aka crudo alemán, aka crudos, is the Chilean way of eating raw beef. It was created by German pig farmers, who often prepared raw pork with onions, and switched over to cattle farming in South America. I’m not going to lie, not only could I not find a single restaurant within a 100-mile radius serving this dish, I couldn’t even find a proper English translation of a recipe. While bistec alemán seems relatively well-known in the Latin American world, it goes by several names, and the ingredients shift from site to site.

Luckily, my girlfriend is a well-traveled chef, so I brought the raw filet over her house, showed her my crude translations of the recipes, and watched her catch a vibe. She mixed together jalapenos, onions, olive oil, chili, salt, pepper, red onion, dijon mustard, mayonnaise and fresh-squeezed lemons; she grilled some sourdough; she even sculpted a little raw beef tower using a mold. The lemons imbued South American flavor to the dish, and the creamy mayonnaise and mustard reined in the beef’s harshness, making this the perfect dish for the raw beef rookie.

Pittsburgh Blue — Pittsburgh, USA

“Pittsburgh blue” or “Pittsburgh rare” is the lowest degree of doneness for steak in the United States. It’s meat that’s been thrown on the grill only as a formality—just a second or two on each side, keeping the inside completely raw. This practice originated in the Pittsburgh steel mills of the mid-20th century. Pittsburghers—or is it Pittsburghians?—would bring slabs of meat to work and slap those babies onto blast furnaces, which were kept at temperatures over 1000 degrees Celsius. The outside of the steak would instantly char, while the inside would remain cold and raw.

Most steakhouses still don’t speak the language of Pittsburgh blue, so I made a Pittsburgh steak myself. While I couldn’t blacken the outside with my mere skillet, I kept the inside raw—which should still count, right? Far more important is the Pittsburgher/Pittsburghian distinction, which I Googled, and learned that the correct way to refer to a resident of Pittsburgh is “Yinzer.” This is because apparently Pittsburghers/Pittsburghians say yinz instead of “you”…? You heard that right. Yinzer. As in “Stay away from that Yinzer boy down the street,” or “I never liked them Yinzers anyway.” However, I love their steak.

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