High-quality Wagyu beef attracts interest from Scotland to Lithuania
Friday, April 8, 2016
With Wagyu fillet steaks going for $400 per pound in luxury restaurants, it's no wonder that interest is high among European breeders. But the original breeders from Japan are not standing idly by
by NORMAN DUNN
More than 2,000 enthusiastic would-be Wagyu breeders stormed into the usually quiet north German region of Münsterland last September for what was billed as the first official auction of purebred Wagyu in the country.
Holsteins are usually the centre of attention in this major milk production area. But this time it was the old Japanese breed, famed source of "Kobe" steaks, coming under the hammer, along with embryos and semen. Prices peaked at the equivalent of C$41,000 for a two-year-old in-calf heifer. "Ms Dai De La" went to a Wagyu breeder in far-flung Lithuania, near the Russian border. Altogether, 21 females averaged $21,258. Embryos sold for $3,430 each in a packet flushed from a superior breeding cow from Wisconsin.
Despite these comparatively modest prices for reputedly top pedigree breeding stock, the crowds of farmers milling around the ring indicated plenty of interest. The level of enthusiasm was without doubt fired by the eye-watering prices being asked for Wagyu steaks in quality restaurants from Berlin to London, and the frequently reported carcass premium of $20.50 per kilogram for a beef breed cross with 50 per cent Wagyu blood.
For the real thing, there are restaurants in Germany selling pure Wagyu fillet steak at about $400 per pound. Meanwhile, at the (slightly) cheaper end of the eatery scale, there are limited supplies of product, for instance Wagyu x Limousin (imported vacuum packed from Nebraska) at the equivalent of C$40 per pound for an excellent dry-aged T-bone. Oh yes, and Wagyu hamburgers at $60 apiece.
Whatever the feelings about how much of a market there is for this class of beef is in crisis-torn Europe, there's little argument about the quality of the Wagyu product with its high degree of marbling and "melt-in-the-mouth" succulence.
Wagyu is really a term covering several old Japanese breeds and the resultant synthesis has led to something of a beef production revolution in Britain, where an estimated six or seven herds numbering several hundred head each (plus numerous much smaller units) have sprung up in the last 12 years.
The big players include Martine Chapman and Mohsin Altajir, who moved from Dubai to set up their "Highland Wagyu" ranch on 25,000 Scottish acres and aim for a herd of 1,000 cows, including crosses, by the end of this year. The foundation stock is from Australia, as well as from other Scottish herds, and the Chapman/Altajir partnership says it aims to be the world's biggest producer of pure and cross Wagyu breeding animals by 2020.
I remember in school we learnt with astonishment, coming from farms where beef cattle got fattened on plain hay, "chappit neeps" (turnips) and draff (distillers' grains) that the breeds producing the "Kobe" beef in Japan, including the Wagyu, were given beer as part of their diet, as well as being regularly massaged by their fond owners.
As teenagers reared on ordinary farms, we only half believed this, of course. But it's interesting that some the biggest Wagyu breeders here in Europe still consider that a bit of Far Eastern Zen magic is essential in production. For instance, out of the 35 farmers rearing purebred Wagyu in Germany, one made the headlines last year by claiming he talked to his animals for at least 10 minutes per day. At least one other reportedly adds sake to the rations of his Wagyu, while some say they play Mozart to their cows daily. In Britain, there's a Wagyu herd owner applying electro-massage on his animals' muscles.
The "Highland Wagyu" approach is not quite so extreme. But big airy barns are a must for Martine Chapman, who also likes her charges to have short-chopped hay as forage, with added seaweed and omega-3 oils, and believes in regular grooming for the cattle.
Alas, as so often with a good newspaper story, the old tales of Japanese Wagyu husbandry prove to have more than a few cracks when examined closely. Certainly, modern farmers in the main beef-rearing district of Kobe deny that they massage their beef animals. They also point out that it was in all probability not beer or sake that was included in cattle diets in the olden days but more likely the by product of both drinks – distillers' grains, just like in Europe nowadays.
On the other hand, there's absolutely no doubt about the niche luxury market developing for the very high quality meat. Breeding stock, embryos and semen are imported by the new generation of European breeders from North America, Australia and New Zealand. The United States is reckoned to be the first western country that imported purebred Wagyu straight from Japan. A sizeable shipment took place around 1970, another 20 years later. From these exports of only a few hundred animals, the breed has expanded globally.
Are the original Wagyu breeders from Japan standing by idly watching this new bonanza market unfold? No way! As expected, the Japanese are right in there, starting with some useful propaganda last year by claiming that the really top-class Wagyu, or its related breeds, never actually left the islands. Instead, they maintain, "ordinary" breeding stock was exported to the United States last century. Kept in Japan were superior lines that had been strictly selected and certified over generations. Now, this jealously guarded quality features in a European marketing campaign starring Wagyu beef straight from Japan.
Last year, a beef producers' co-operative from the Japanese Gunma region launched their "real Wagyu" meat products in London claiming (surprise, surprise) significantly better flavor and texture compared with European or North American sourced cuts.
Should Wagyu breeders outside Japan be worried about the Japanese challenge? I doubt it. Even the enthusiastic Japanese producers admit that they've only got a few tons a month for shipping over to Europe – just enough to supply refined restaurants where the diners would never dream of beefing about the price of meat. BF
Norman Dunn writes about European agriculture from Germany.