Now you can 3D print a steak, but why would you really do it?
Tests were conducted with 3D-printed steaks that are not yet available for sale. However, addressing food from an exclusively technological perspective can be discouraging and evokes the same satisfaction as flipping through a catering catalog.
Most people have no idea how the food they consume is produced. We don't know what the cow that our hamburger meat comes from ate, where it lived, or how it died. The same goes for the wheat in our bread or the leaves in our salad. The food system feels like a black box to us. This disconnection is why the concept of "farm to table" has gained popularity, as it seeks to reconnect us with our food and reflect on the water, emissions, labor, and care that are part of our meals.
While I support this initiative, there is one area where I would prefer to hear less about food production: plant-based meats. I am convinced that we need plant-based alternatives to animal products, but I suspect that alternative protein companies sometimes become overly obsessed with the process of making these meats—like fiber, air fermentation, and strange forms of extrusion—and forget the most important thing: flavor. As a journalist, I can understand the interest in food technology, but at conferences, my only question is: is it delicious?
Recently, I was offered the chance to try 3D-printed meat from an Israeli company, which initially didn't excite me. However, I considered the innovative aspect of the venture, and since plant-based meats seemed to be stagnant, perhaps they needed a technological breakthrough. So, I requested that they send me the products.
Arik Kaufman, CEO of Steakholder Foods, the company that sent me the 3D-printed meat, claims that for these meats to be successful, they must be surprising to eat. They sent me cuts like fish fillets, beef steaks, and other products that were not 3D-printed, all in refrigerated packaging that quickly filled my kitchen with fog.
3D printing allows for the creation of attractive edible structures, Kaufman says. His company has developed two types of printers: one for fish and another for meat. The meat printer can produce around 500 kilograms of plant-based meat in an hour. I followed the cooking instructions for the fish fillet, but despite that, the result was unsatisfactory. It had a soft texture, lacked the expected firmness, and its flavor was very subtle, almost like a puree.
Next, I tried the 3D-printed beef steak. Although it looked interesting visually and the exterior had a nice sear, the flavor inside turned out bland and dry, as if someone had tried to recreate a steak without having actually tasted one. Although these 3D-printed meats were technically edible, they lacked the pleasure sought in the culinary experience.
Frustratingly, there are other plant-based meats that truly excite me. Despite criticisms of Beyond Meat, their burgers are tasty and juicy. Finding products that, instead of imitating animal meat, offer unique flavors is essential. The problem arises when companies focus solely on technological challenges without remembering that food must first delight us.
Some voices in the alternative protein industry fear that bad experiences with mediocre plant-based meats will discourage consumers. However, Kaufman believes that changes can elevate the entire industry. When I mentioned to him that I was going to try his marbled steak, I hoped for a better outcome. While the cooking seemed promising, the flavor turned out to be quite bland, becoming a mere vehicle for the sauce.
In the end, even a traditional non-3D-printed burger I tried from Steakholder surpassed all the 3D-printed meats, showing that technological complexity doesn't always translate into better flavor. In conclusion, buying high-quality products is key in the food industry, where what is needed are truly delicious options.