The Economics of Everyday Things - 75. Butchers
Summary
本期节目以加州圣拉斐尔的家族企业 Flannery Beef 为切口,解释现代美国屠夫如何把牛肉加工成既可食用又有经济价值的产品。节目回顾了屠夫从了解屠宰全流程的社区手艺人,逐渐转变为分工高度细化的供应链参与者。美国牛肉产业呈“沙漏”结构:两端分别是大量养牛者和消费者,中间却由少数大型屠宰企业控制关键通道。USDA 分级、脂肪纹理以及零售包装技术共同影响消费者对牛肉品质和新鲜度的判断,但鲜红颜色并不一定等同于更新鲜。对独立肉商而言,季节需求、大买家的采购规模和原料价格波动都会显著影响供货与成本。干式熟成通过酶和特有霉菌改善风味与嫩度,却会造成重量损失,并要求屠夫凭经验决定如何分割每块形状各异的肉。最终,一块牛肉的售价不仅反映需求和稀缺性,还必须覆盖熟成、修割、人工、冷藏和无法变现的边角料损耗,因此 Flannery Beef 即使每周销售约一万块牛排,净利润率也只有约 8%。
Highlights
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Anybody can pick up a knife, but people that can do it correctly are not easy to find. To cut portions, you've got to look at that piece of meat and gauge the size and the shape. It really takes a lot of thinking.
任何人都能拿起刀,但真正能正确下刀的人并不好找。分切时,你必须观察那块肉,判断它的大小和形状。这确实需要大量思考。
Reframes butchery as skilled judgment -
A really good way to look at the beef industry in America is to look at it as an hourglass. You have a lot of people at the top raising animals and a lot of people at the bottom consuming beef. The choke point are the slaughterhouses.
理解美国牛肉产业的一个好方法,是把它看成一个沙漏:顶端有大量养牛者,底端有大量牛肉消费者,而屠宰场就是中间的瓶颈。
Memorable model of market concentration -
The prepackaged steaks at supermarkets also use some tricks to keep meat looking fresh, like pumping packages with carbon monoxide. The consumer associates bright red with fresh good meat. And it's not entirely true—you can have something that's browned out a little bit and there ...
超市的预包装牛排也会用一些技巧让肉看起来新鲜,例如向包装中充入一氧化碳。消费者会把鲜红色与新鲜、优质的肉联系起来,但这并不完全正确;肉即使略微变褐,也可能完全没有问题。
Challenges a common freshness cue -
You'll look at a different rack that's got much darker moldy meat on it. We really kind of lean into the mold. I think it gives a phenomenal flavor profile to dried beef that you're missing if you don't have that—it's like a buttery, nutty, kind of warm smell.
另一个架子上的肉颜色深得多,而且长着霉菌。我们其实很看重这种霉菌;我认为它赋予干式熟成牛肉一种不可替代的绝佳风味,闻起来像黄油和坚果,还带着温暖的气息。
Surprising role of mold in flavor -
You have two tenderloins per animal. Out of each tenderloin, you'll get maybe six center cut steaks. So you'll get 12 filet mignon steaks per animal—that's it. During dry aging, a cut loses 10 to 15% of its weight, and when it's cut into steaks, anywhere from 20 to 50% is lost fr ...
每头牛只有两条里脊,每条大概只能切出六块中心部位的牛排,所以一头牛总共只能产出 12 块菲力牛排,仅此而已。干式熟成还会让肉损失 10% 到 15% 的重量,之后分切成牛排时,又会因去除筋腱和多余脂肪损失 20% 到 50%。
Explains scarcity and hidden yield loss
Full transcript
Inside a warehouse in the northern California city of San Rafael, you'll find a spectacular abundance of bovine flesh. There are giant walk-in freezers full to the brim with rounds, flanks, chucks, and loins in various stages of aging. In the prep station, workers use vertical band saws to trim hanger steaks and rib-eyes. We're not generally speaking at Tuesday night dinner.
We're an anniversary of birthday, a holiday, a celebration, when it's natural to get a big steak. That's Brian Flannery. He and his daughter, Katie, run Flannery Beef, a butcher shop and meat distributor. They specialize in beef, which they source, cut, and trim for restaurants all over the country. On average, Americans eat around 83 pounds of beef per year per person. Before all of that meat gets to their tables, It passes through the hands of a butcher like Brian, Katie, or one of their 12 employees. And turning a 1,400 pound cow into an edible and economically viable product is more challenging than it might appear. Anybody can pick up a knife, but people that can do it correctly are not easy to find. To cut portions, you've got to look at that piece of meat. You've got to gauge the size and the shape. They're thick, they're thin, they're round, and each piece is different.
It really takes a lot of thinking. For the Freakonomics Radio Network, this is the Economics of Everyday Things. I'm Zachary Crockett. Today, Butchers. Many decades ago, before supermarkets became ubiquitous, buying groceries was a very different experience. You'd go to a separate market for each of your needs. A grocer for vegetables, a fishmonger for seafood, and your neighborhood butcher for meat.
That's the environment in which Brian Flannery's dad, Brian Sr., got his start. He just got out of high school, got a job in a meat market in San Francisco. And over a course of, I guess, probably 15 years, worked up from sweeping the floors to actually being the general manager. At their peak, they had 80 butchers, processing 120 head of cattle a week.
Brian Sr. opened his own butcher shop in San Francisco. They gained a reputation for their beef. And according to Family Lore, they even sold steaks to Alfred Hitchcock. My mother worked there. My sisters worked there. My two brothers worked there. So that's how I got introduced to it. When Brian Jr. inherited the meat shop with his brothers, he broke off and started his own arm of the business, a distribution company called Flannery Beef. And eventually, He talked his daughter, Katie, into joining too. I actually got as far away as I could. I decided to go to the East Coast to study art history. But with family businesses, you're always part of that orbit. Today, Katie's all in on the business. She even has a piece of beef as the background on her phone. As the company's co-owner, she's helped usher flannery beef into the age of e-commerce.
You can go on their website and order ribeyes, porterhouses, New York strip steaks, and filet mignons for home delivery. But the bulk of the company's business is selling steaks to more than 400 restaurants around the country. They're mostly accounts that the industry would call white tablecloth restaurants, so it's your high-end steakhouse style experience. It's not a outback steakhouse or Applebee's, anything like that.
Flannery beef sells around 7500 pounds of meat every week, something like 10,000 12-ounce steaks. And the role they play is very different from that of the neighborhood butcher shop Katie's grandfather started 60 years ago. In the past, a butcher would be incredibly knowledgeable from slaughter to final product. Nowadays, I think there's more segmentation between the slaughter side and the butchering.
In the old days, butchers would actually go to the slaughterhouses themselves and buy whole cow carcasses. They'd hang them on big hooks and cut them up in the back of their shop. Today, the supply chain of America's beef is a bit more complicated. The first step in the cattle industry is what they call a cow calf operation. And that's basically a ranch or a farm that does the breeding.
and they will keep the cow and the calf together until the calf is mature enough to be able to be weaned off of the cow. That type of operation will put the calf up for sale. After six to nine months, calves reach a weight of 400 to 600 pounds. Some are killed and processed for veal. Others are sold alive for around $2 per pound to an operation called a backgrounder ranch or a stocker.
They will take that same calf and then they will isolate it and feed it a formula and Raise it to a much larger animal probably 800 pounds From there the cow often goes to a specialized feedlot where it feasts on grains and bulks up to as much as 1,400 pounds Around a year and a half into its life. It's sold to a slaughterhouse and this is where things get a little tricky
I think a really good way to look at the beef industry in America is to look at it as an hourglass. You have a lot of people at the top of this hourglass who are raising animals for beef production. And at the bottom of the hourglass, you have a lot of people who are consuming beef for dinner. The choke point are the slaughterhouses.
Cargill, Tyson, and National Beef. These firms own dozens of regional slaughterhouses, and they have a tight grip on the way that beef is sold in America. Cattle from all over the country are funneled into these slaughterhouses, where huge teams of butchers break them up for distribution. It's like an assembly line, except instead of putting something together you're taking it apart.
They eviscerate, guts out, hide off, split it down the middle, the carcass will chill, then it'll go down the production line to be broken down into the smaller primals. Primals are the first big cuts of meat from the cow during the butchering process, and they follow the natural muscles and seams of the animal. They have names like rib, chuck, round, loin, brisket, short plate, and flank.
A slaughterhouse pays for the full weight of a 1,400 pound cow. But at the end of their butchering process, they're left with much less. That'll be around 450 to 500 pounds of saleable weight for that entire carcass. And of that, max is 80 pounds of steak. As all of this beef makes its way through a slaughterhouse, it's also inspected by an official from the US Department of Agriculture. As a part of that inspection, the plant has the option of paying.
for its meat to be grated. If you've bought beef at a supermarket, you've probably noticed there's a sticker on there that says Prime, Choice, or Select. These are grades assigned by the USDA, based on the yield, the amount of usable lean meats on the carcass, and also quality, the tenderness, juiciness, and flavor. The latter has a lot to do with the meat's marbling, or the way that the natural specks of white fat are distributed through the meat.
The way that they grade is they look at the eye of the rib and they determine the quantity of marbling and the positioning of it. That's where the computers have come into play. They actually take a picture and they'll analyze and they'll spit out this percent of fat to this percent of lean to then help you make that decision. Prime is considered the best grade. It's only assigned to around 10% of all assessed beef.
But not all prime cuts are of the same caliber. There are different sub-rankings based on how much yield a buyer can get. Prime one would be the holy grail. It'd be beautifully marbling with no excess fat. Prime three would be beautiful marbling with a ton of fat, which is a loss from a producer's point of view. Slaughterhouses sell a large portion of this meat to distributors, who in turn sell it to grocery stores.
Some of it is sold as primals, which are cut up and sold over the counter. But the role of the supermarket butcher has changed significantly in the past few decades. Because much of the meats you buy at the supermarket today isn't fully butchered on site. It's what's called case ready. It's cut, trimmed, packaged and labeled, either at a slaughterhouse or a third party processing plant. Then it's sent to the store ready to sell as is.
They're doing a little bit of on-site cutting, but very little. It's a much, much reduced version of the old-fashioned butcher shop. Many of the steaks sold to supermarket chains are less pricey, select grade cuts. And instead of paying to get the meat graded, some retailers come up with their own branding. For years, Safeway sold some of its beef under the name Rancher's Reserve. A lot of them will come up with unique branded names.
because they don't want to say this is USDA select. The prepackaged steaks at supermarkets also use some tricks to keep meat looking fresh, like pumping packages with carbon monoxide. The color of meat is very dependent on the presence of oxygen. So that's where this modified air packaging comes into play because the consumer associates bright red with fresh good meat. And it's not entirely True. Like you can have something that's browned out a little bit and there's absolutely nothing wrong with the product. Of course, not all beef ends up at supermarket chains. Slaughterhouses also sell directly to mid-sized independent butcheries like Flannery Beef. And the meat that goes there experiences a very different journey before it gets to your plate. That's coming up. Every week, Katie and Brian Flannery
Fill out a detailed menu of all the beef cuts they want from the slaughterhouse. I can tell my rep at the slaughterhouse, I need 50 cases of boneless rib eyes. I want 100 cases of bone-in ribs. I want 30 cases of briskets. I want them all prime, et cetera, et cetera. We'll order ribs. We'll order shortloins. We'll order chucks for grinding. We'll order tenderloins, the filet.
So you're buying cases and they're roughly on average 80 pounds per case. The USDA posts a weekly report of the going rate for 100 pounds of various primal cuts of beef. But the prices are constantly in flux and they can be affected by a wide range of factors like droughts, grain prices, cattle supply and even the time of year.
Fourth quarter of the year is when prime beef goes absolutely through the roof, especially ribs. Everybody is thinking Christmas. Everybody's thinking rib roast. So your prices will go up, you know, three, four bucks over a month or two. That's equivalent to about a 25 to 28 percent rise over what it was last month. I mean, that's a major. The competition to score the best cuts has gotten fuser. So like a Costco has an example, I'm not.
picking on them, they'll come in and they'll order a million units of filet. So boom, it just sucks all the air out of the market. So we have to anticipate not only is the price going to go crazy, but it's going to be the question of whether you can get the supply at this time of year. When Brian and Katie do manage to get the cuts they need, the beef is transported to their warehouse in a giant refrigerated meat truck, unloaded and put out onto racks. Flannery beef specializes in dry aging.
A process where meat is left out in a temperature-controlled room, typically for a period of two weeks to a month. During this process, enzymes in the meat break down, making it flavorful and tender. When we visited the Flannery beef warehouse in late November, we walked through a freezer with $135,000 worth of beef in it, in various stages of the dry aging cycle.
You'll see one rack that has that kind of bright cherry red meat on it and that's fresh product So that's product that has just recently been opened and put onto the rack We also saw something we didn't expect You'll look at a different rack that's got much darker moldy meat on it. And the mold is really unique to our process here. Partly our process, partly our location. We really kind of lean into the mold. I think it gives a phenomenal flavor profile to dried beef that you're missing if you don't have that. It's like a buttery, nutty, kind of warm smell. I know that sounds crazy.
Once the primals are appropriately aged, they have to be cut down into individual steaks. And a skilled butcher can break down a particular piece of meat in a few different ways. Take for instance, the short loin, the big piece of beef that comes from the back of a cow. The anatomy of the short loin is that on one end of it, it has the muscle that makes up the New York steak and the muscle that makes up the filet mignon.
So if you cut it and it has both the section of the New York and the filet mignon, that's considered a porterhouse. The difference between a t-bone and a porterhouse is the width of the filet. So from the short line, you could get a porterhouse, a t-bone, a bone in New York. There's a ton of different ways that you can work that one primal. A butcher has to know what kind of dollar value they'll get from each primal cut.
Flannery beef might buy a 20-pound short loin from a slaughterhouse for around $290. If it's shaped just right, they can get three 32-ounce porterhouse steaks and five bone-in New York steaks out of it. Those steaks might add up to around $600 in revenue. Setting prices for those steaks also involves a complicated financial calculation. A 10-ounce filet mignon, for instance, runs around $50.
more than double the price of a flat iron steak. That's partly to do with demand, since it's prized for its tenderness. But it also has to do with supply. You have two tenderloins per animal. Out of each tenderloin, you'll get maybe six center cut steaks. So you'll get 12 filet mignon steaks per animal. That's it. That's insane.
and think of how many people are out there ordering filets. When pricing their steaks, flannery beef also has to account for product loss throughout the butchering process. During the dry aging stage, a cut of meat loses 10 to 15% of its weight. And when that meat is cut up into steaks, anywhere from 20 to 50% of its weight is lost from all the tendons and excess fat that gets trimmed off.
That 20 pound short loin that they paid $290 for might only yield 10 or 11 pounds of meat. I take our sales at the end of every single week. Every single skew that we have, I have like a trim loss multiplier. So if it's a portion cut New York, I know that our guy's trim loss is about a 33% when they're cutting New York's. All the leftover scraps from meat are called bench trim.
Flannery beef used to grind it up and sell it as hamburger meat. But Brian says that's no longer financially viable. Trim that's intended to be resold is subject to additional USDA testing. It requires meat to be traced back to its origin source. And for mid-sized operations like Flannery beef, the extra manpower and paperwork isn't worth it. Let's take it a big...
percentage of potential profit off the table because that was a way to recover the cost of some of that trim. Sometimes, Flannery Beef will pay a tallow company to come collect all of their trim, and it's used to make soap. But much of the time, it's just thrown away. Trim is considered an overhead expense in the business. And it's not the only one. There's labor, rent, and a $13,000 monthly utility bill for all the freezers. At the end of a typical month, Flannery Beef's net profit margin works out to around 8%. That may sound pretty small for all the work, but when you're selling 10,000 steaks a week, it's not a bad living. And let's just say it comes with some pretty juicy perks. Every week there's something new coming up. You know, it's a different problem to solve. You get to be creative. You're constantly
thinking, moving forward, adjusting, it's exciting. It's definitely not a static job. Do you guys eat steaks like seven days a week? No, because it's like you don't want too much of a good thing. You know, a really good steak I'm happy with like two, three times a month. Honestly, that's it. I don't want to overdo it. For the economics of everyday things, I'm Zachary Kraken. This episode was produced by me and Sarah Lilly.
and mixed by Jeremy Johnston. We had help from Daniel Moritz Rapson and Sam Anderson. Filets generally have minimal flavor. They're very, very tender, but they have minimal flavor. They're also ugly as hell. That's one of the worst luck of steaks. The Freakonomics Radio Network. The hidden side of everything.