The amount of weight a cow gains is monitored closely by the farmers. Cows that are too small or too lean will not fetch a decent price, but neither will cows that are too large: ‘consistency is the most important thing’ said Ryall. ‘If you take a sirloin or a strip steak off a 400kg carcass it’s going to be too big, and it’s not going to be useful for the supermarket or restaurant trade. At the end of the day, all you’re making is a lot of processing meat.’ While my naive instinct was that more meat meant more money, in the cattle world bigger is not always better. Suddenly, the uniform steaks available in supermarkets and butchers made sense - if a cow is too large a lot of the meat will end up in the mincer because the cuts will be larger than anyone wants to buy.

Once the right breed has been reared in the right way to the right size comes another incredibly important stage: slaughter. How - and where - a cow is slaughtered has significant impact upon the meat itself. Cows must be kept calm and treated very well in their last few days, as tense muscles do not lead to tender meat: ‘it works better for everyone - the cow is treated well, the meat tastes better and the customers are happier.’ Farmers tend to opt for slaughterhouses near their farms to reduce any potential stress a long journey might entail, and abattoirs, too, have worked to improve both condition and techniques to make a smoother, humane process.

This change in treatment has been strongly influenced by the research of scientist and ‘animal whisperer’ Temple Grandin, who demonstrated conclusively the link between stress on the animal and the flavour of its meat. Cows are kept in familiar groups to minimise stress, and pens have been modified to include curved walls and sloped floors (cows prefer to be walking on a gradual incline) with the intention being to keep them moving round with no idea of what lies ahead. In ideal conditions, a cow will be stunned and killed before it even knows what is about to happen.

This, at last, is where we come in. When shopping for your meat choose wisely, warns Ryall: ‘You need a good piece of fat around the meat to cook it. You don't need to eat the fat, but it's an integral part of the cooking process. I always say, trying to cook meat without fat is like trying to boil potatoes without water.’ Both Angus and Hereford seem to be popular varieties among the farmers themselves for a steak or roasting joint, whether cooking it at home or eating out in a restaurant. In Europe the tastes are a little different, with leaner meat generally preferred; continental breeds, such as Charolais and Simmental reflect this.

With a deep freezer full of quality beef at his disposal, it seemed only fitting to ask Ryall for his advice on how to cook steak. ‘Don't waste your time cooking Angus beef any less than medium,’ he said. ‘There’s no point cooking it rare because you're not cooking it enough to break down the fat, which is what releases the flavours in the meat.’ Yes, as controversial as this might seem to those of us who view ordering anything over medium-rare as the height of culinary gaucheness, this seemed to be the consensus among the beef producers. The farmer also has some pretty stringent views on how to serve the finished dish: ‘Never use a sauce as a camouflage - give the option of the sauce on the side, but never put the sauce over meat. The meat should be presented on its own.’ You’ve heard the man - when you next cook steak stick to simple seasoning and have your sauce dishes at the ready. With the right care put in at every stage, from rearing the cow to cooking the beef, the final flavour of the steak will speak for itself.

As a lover of beef but a shameful, self-confessed townie, a lot of things about my visit to Ben Ryall's farm surprised me. Firstly it was the behaviour of the cows themselves. Docile, curious creatures, they would come forward and inspect us before trotting off once we were deemed unworthy of their interest - clearly they weren't threatened by strange visitors tromping through their field. Learning more about the slaughter conditions, too, was reassuring, with Ryall adamant that the cow's welfare was paramount throughout the process. Most of all, though, was that I came away from the farm a friend of fat. Not to say I was ever its enemy - not to look at me, anyway - but speaking to Ryall made it clear to how great an extent fat is the key to flavour. To perfectly cook the steak's fat is to cook the perfect steak, and if that means leaving it in the pan a little longer then I'll gladly do so - the extra time can be well invested in septuple-cooking my chips.