We are lucky enough to have our own beef. I have a few mama cows who live with their relatives on a larger place; we trade half our calf crop for pasturage. Grass-fed, of course, and living untroubled lives in the pasture with their herd-mates, handled enough by people on foot that they aren't spooked by it. Then they go (one by one) to a small custom slaughterhouse, which does the cutting, wrapping, and freezing. It's not the same meat you find in the supermarket. Lean, perhaps a little tougher, and incredible beef flavor. Making soups and stews from this meat is a cook's joy...there's something there to work with.
When I was a kid, during the '50s drought, a friend of my grandfather's gave us meat, range beef, and my mother made soups and stews I still remember. Mine aren't exactly like hers (I don't think she ever put barley in her beef soups--I do.) But the principle is the same and I feel very connected to my cooking foremothers when I make soup or bread or any of the foundation foods.