The simple reading of the pasuk that allows for eating meat for pleasure and not only meat offered as korbanos, כִּֽי־יִרְחַ֨ק מִמְּךָ֜ הַמָּק֗וֹם אֲשֶׁ֨ר יִבְחַ֜ר ה׳ אֱלֹקיךָ לָשׂ֣וּם שְׁמ֣וֹ שָׁם֒ וְזָבַחְתָּ֞ מִבְּקָרְךָ֣ וּמִצֹּֽאנְךָ֗ אֲשֶׁ֨ר נָתַ֤ן ה׳ לְךָ֔ כַּאֲשֶׁ֖ר צִוִּיתִ֑ךָ וְאָֽכַלְתָּ֙ בִּשְׁעָרֶ֔יךָ בְּכֹ֖ל אַוַּ֥ת נַפְשֶֽׁךָ, is that it's a concession of sorts, a bdieved. Ideally, meat should be consumed only in the context of offering a korban in the mishkan or mikdash. However, unlike in the midbar when the entire nation camped around the Mishkan and could easily bring korbanos at any time, in Eretz Yisrael people will live further away from the Mikdash, from the spiritual merkaz, and could not do so. Unless the majority of the nation were to become vegetarians, there had to be a mechanism to allow for meat without being able to offer the animal as a korban.
That this is not the ideal is clearly the position of Netziv. Rashi already takes note of the seeming repitition of כִּֽי־יַרְחִיב֩ ה׳ אֱלֹקיךָ אֶֽת־גְּבֻלְךָ֮ and the following pasuk of כִּֽי־יִרְחַ֨ק מִמְּךָ֜ הַמָּק֗וֹם and suggests that the second pasuk refers to the expansion of physical boundaries of the land while the first refers to the expansion of the wealth of the population, allowing more people to want meat and to enjoy meat. Netziv, however, writes that כִּֽי־יִרְחַ֨ק מִמְּךָ֜ הַמָּק֗וֹם alludes to spiritual, not physical distance. ריחוק המעלה, שאינך יכול לעמוד בהר ה׳ ולאכול משולחן גבוה. The ideal is to be close to the makom mikdash, eating korbanos. Since not everyone can live on the spiritual level demanded by close proximity to the mikdash, we have hilchos shechita to allow meat to be eaten anywhere.
You get a very different perspective in the Midrash, which has a long series of stories, the first of which is as follows:
כִּי יַרְחִיב ה׳ אֱלֹקיךָ אֶת גְּבֻלְךָ – זֶה שֶׁאָמַר הַכָּתוּב (משלי י״ח:ט״ז): מַתָּן אָדָם יַרְחִיב לוֹ וְלִפְנֵי גְדֹלִים יַנְחֶנּוּ. מַהוּ מַתָּן אָדָם יַרְחִיב לוֹ, מַעֲשֶׂה בְּרַבִּי אֱלִיעֶזֶר וְרַבִּי יְהוֹשֻׁעַ שֶׁיָּצְאוּ לִגְבוֹת לְעֵסֶק מִצְווֹת רַבּוֹתֵינוּ, הָלְכוּ לְחֵילָתָהּ שֶׁל אַנְטוֹכִיָּא, וְהָיָה שָׁם אָדָם אֶחָד וְהָיָה נִקְרָא אַבָּא יוּדָן, וְהָיָה לָמוּד לִתֵּן לְרַבּוֹתֵינוּ בְּיַד רְחָבָה, נַעֲשָׂה אוֹתוֹ אַבָּא יוּדָן עָנִי, רָאָה רַבִּי אֱלִיעֶזֶר וְרַבִּי יְהוֹשֻׁעַ שֶׁהָלְכוּ לִגְבוֹת שָׁם, וְהִטְמִין עַצְמוֹ מִפְּנֵיהֶם וְעָלָה לְבֵיתוֹ, וְעָשָׂה יוֹם וּשְׁנַיִם וְלֹא יָרַד לַשּׁוּק, אָמְרָה לוֹ אִשְׁתּוֹ מִפְּנֵי מָה לֹא יָרַדְתָּ לַשּׁוּק, הֲרֵי שְׁנֵי יָמִים, אָמַר לָהּ רַבּוֹתֵינוּ בָּאוּ לִגְבוֹת לְעֵסֶק מִצְווֹת עֲמֵלֵי תּוֹרָה, וְאֵין סִפֵּק בְּיָדִי לִתֵּן לָהֶם, וַאֲנִי מִתְבַּיֵּשׁ לֵירֵד לַשּׁוּק. אִשְׁתּוֹ שֶׁהָיְתָה אוֹהֶבֶת אֶת הַמִּצְווֹת אָמְרָה לוֹ, לֹא נִשְׁתַּיֵּר לָנוּ שָׂדֶה אֶחָת, מְכֹר חֶצְיָהּ וְתֵן אוֹתָהּ לָהֶן. הָלַךְ וְעָשָׂה כֵן, מָכַר אוֹתָהּ חֲצִי שָׂדֶה בַּחֲמִשָּׁה זְהוּבִים וְנָתַן אוֹתָן לְרַבּוֹתֵינוּ, וְאָמַר לָהֶן הִתְפַּלְּלוּ עָלָי, הִתְפַּלְּלוּ עָלָיו וְאָמְרוּ לוֹ הַמָּקוֹם יְמַלֵּא חֶסְרוֹנֶךָ. הָלְכוּ לָהֶן רַבּוֹתֵינוּ לִגְבוֹת בְּמָקוֹם אַחֵר, אוֹתוֹ אַבָּא יוּדָן חָרַשׁ בַּחֲצִי שָׂדֶה, וּמָצָא שָׁם סִימָא גְדוֹלָה וְנַעֲשָׂה עָשִׁיר יוֹתֵר מִמַּה שֶּׁהָיָה קֹדֶם, עַד שֶׁרַבּוֹתֵינוּ חוֹזְרִין עָבְרוּ בְּאוֹתוֹ מָקוֹם, אָמְרוּ לְאֶחָד חַיֶּיךָ הַעֲמִידֵנוּ עִם אַבָּא יוּדָן, אָמַר לָהֶם אוֹתוֹ הָאִישׁ, וּמִי יָכוֹל לַעֲמֹד, עִם הַמֶּלֶךְ וְלֹא עִמּוֹ. אָמְרוּ לוֹ אֵין אָנוּ מְבַקְּשִׁין אֶלָּא שֶׁלֹא יֵדַע שֶׁעָבַרְנוּ כָּאן וְלֹא שָׁאַלְנוּ אֶת שְׁלוֹמוֹ. יָדַע אַבָּא יוּדָן וּבָא אֶצְלָם וְנָתַן לָהֶם אֶלֶף זְהוּבִים, אָמַר לָהֶם עָשְׂתָה תְּפִלַּתְכֶם פֵּרוֹת, אָמְרוּ לוֹ אַף אָנוּ הָיִינוּ יוֹדְעִים בְּמַעֲשֶׂיךָ הַטּוֹבִים וְעָשִׂינוּ אוֹתְךָ רֹאשׁ פֶּרֶק, קָרְאוּ עָלָיו רַבּוֹתֵינוּ: מַתָּן אָדָם יַרְחִיב לוֹ וְלִפְנֵי גְדוֹלִים יַנְחֶנּוּ.
Upon which the Midrash comments that you don't need the story to learn the lesson that the mitzvah generates reward, as it can be learned from our parsha, from the smichut of the heter for meat with the previous mitzvah to support the Levi, i.e. to give charity:
אָמַר רַבִּי אַבָּהוּ מַה לִּי לְמָקוֹם אַחֵר לְמֹד מִמְקוֹמוֹ, מַה כְּתִיב לְמַעְלָה (דברים י״ב:י״ט): הִשָּׁמֶר לְךָ פֶּן תַּעֲזֹב אֶת הַלֵּוִי, וְאַחַר כָּךְ: כִּי יַרְחִיב ה׳ אֱלֹקיךָ אֶת גְּבֻלְךָ כַּאֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר לָךְ.
The Midrash goes on to explain ה׳ מַתִּיר אֲסוּרִים as referring to this allowance to eat meat, אַף לְהַלָּן אָסַר בְּשַׂר תַּאֲוָה וְכָאן הִתִּירוֹ לָהֶן, מִנַּיִן (דברים י״ב:ט״ו): רַק בְּכָל אַוַּת נַפְשְׁךָ תִּזְבַּח וְאָכַלְתָּ בָשָׂר.
According to Chazal, we are not talking about a b'dieved situation, but rather a positive reward for doing the right thing.
What is the midash k'neged midah? What is the relationship between giving charity and the reward of a steak dinner?
What is the nekudash ha'machlokes here between the pshat and the derash? How can moving away from the Mikdash, moving away from korbanos-centered eating, be something to applaud?
Lastly, what exactly is the reward? Is it the כִּֽי־יַרְחִיב֩ ה׳ אֱלֹקיךָ אֶֽת־גְּבֻלְךָ֮, the expansion of the borders, as implied by the first Midrash's link to the pasuk מַתָּן אָדָם יַרְחִיב לוֹ, or is it the allowance for meat, as implied by the second Midrash's reference to ה׳ מַתִּיר אֲסוּרִים? Or to put it another way, is the expansion of borders the reward, and the desire for meat an outgrowth of prosperity, or is the reward the steak dinner, and the expansion of the borders and the prosperity just a heichi timtzeh to set the stage, since, as Rashi writes, לימדה תורה דרך ארץ שלא יתאווה אדם לאכול בשר אלא מתוך רחבת ידים ועושר?
What the Midrash is doing is flipping the Netziv's approach on its head. If the mountain will not come to Muhammad, then Muhammad must go to the mountain. If you can't come to the Mikdash to offer korbanos, then the solution is not necessarily a b'dieved of meat without Mikdash. The ideal solution is to bring the Mikdash to the meat, if not in the physical sense, then at least in the spiritual sense.
Both the Midrash and the pshat/Netziv use the redundancy of כִּֽי־יַרְחִיב֩ and כִּֽי־יִרְחַ֨ק as a way to address the conflict between the desire to have meat and the difficulty of being so far from the Mikdash, but they do it in opposite ways. Netziv places the focus on כִּֽי־יִרְחַ֨ק, on the spiritual distance from Mikdash, and sees having meat as a b'dieved. The Midrash places the focus on כִּֽי־יַרְחִיב֩ and reads it as spiritual expansion -- enlarging the borders of what we can make holy -- thereby allowing one can have one's spirituality and eat that steak too. The Sefas Emes writes on בְּכׇל־אַוַּ֥ת נַפְשְׁךָ֖ תֹּאכַ֥ל בָּשָֽׂר that we read in krias shema every day that we have to love Hashem בּכל לבבך ובכל נפשׁך. Bring that to the table. Your eating should be and can be done בְּכׇל־אַוַּ֥ת נַפְשְׁךָ֖, infused and animated by your love for Hashem -- and not be a contradiction to it.
In the story quoted, the poor man who lost his wealth thought he could no longer give charity. What did his wife tell him -- and parenthetically, is this not the role of an eishel chayil? Expand your thinking; reconsider what you think your limits are and go beyond them. You can give something. And so the man did, and was rewarded. That's כִּֽי־יַרְחִיב֩ ה׳ אֱלֹקיךָ אֶֽת־גְּבֻלְךָ֮. Not in a physical sense, but rather in a spiritual sense. ה׳ מַתִּיר אֲסוּרִים because you are מַתִּיר אֲסוּרִים, releasing yourself from the mental bonds that held you in check and prevented your growth. That's the midah k'neged midah here. It's not the piece of steak which is the reward, but it's the ability to enlarge one's spiritual boundaries that the piece of steak, when eaten with this perspective, represents.