You leave the house in the dark. You come home in the dark. It's winter, and you yearn for a
lovingly-cooked meal. Why not have it ready when you get home? Why not fill your house with the rustic aromas of slow
cookery?
But I have a job, or, at least a life, I can hear you murmuring to yourself, shaking your head. I
don't have a personal chef. I'll just throw a Lean Cuisine in the oven.
No! Stop! Put away that freezer meal. Freezers are for summer, when you eat ice cream and whir up smoothies with
fresh fruit and yogurt. Winter is for slow cookers, for Crock-Pots and baking at low, low heat and, oh, the bountiful braise. Monday,
January 23, we'll be celebrating all that is slow - all our recipes will cook at low heats for several hours.
Nearly all of them can be mixed early in your day and set cooking, and the flavors will combine throughout
the afternoon as the dish gets more, and more, and more tender, until it is meltingly delectable, until it sings
on your tongue.
Classic slow-cooked meals were invented long before the Crock-Pot trademark was ever registered. Dishes like cassoulet and baked beans and Beef Bourguignonne hearken from centuries ago. Once,
everything was cooked slow. We honor our culinary heritage. We long for food that has nothing "fast"
about it.
I picked up my lid about 30 minutes ago and the mixture hadn't even started bubbling yet. It was
just... resting, warmly. I turned up the heat and now it's actually simmering. I'm headed out to get those oil-cured
olives! I think I'm going to get some couscous as a side dish, that seems appropriate somehow. I'll post a wrap-up when
the simmering finally concludes.
I pick up my wide bowl and start to pour in the wine and vegetables that
marinated together with the beef for the last 24 hours. Of course, I somehow start pouring a bit before I make
it to the pan. I'm not graceful even on my best of days. I have to use four or five paper towels to sop up the
mess.
It's just as well, I decide, because all the wine might not have fit in my pan. That's a lot of beef,
carrots, onions and wine. I set the heat to medium-low and put my big cast-iron lid on cockeyed. The smell of wine
quickly permeates my home, mixing with the smell of browned beef. It's a bit overpowering, and makes me wonder how
those French bistro chefs make it through their days without being a bit tipsy from the aroma alone. It's supposed to
simmer for two hours? It's going to be a late dinner. Next time I'm starting a lot earlier.
It takes me a long time to brown all the beef, even in my huge cast-iron pan. I need three batches and
each one takes me 10 or 12 minutes to get browned on all sides. My final batch gets pretty brown because my son begs me
to play ball with him in his room. No matter, it will all even out in the end.
I start to sprinkle in my herbs;
thyme and bay leaves; and can't find the thyme, so just throw in a handful of Italian seasoning that includes basil,
thyme and marjoram, hoping that the basil flavor will just cook away (thyme and rosemary are the rare spicese that
actually hold up to long cooking times, I've learned). I add the bay and then get ready to toss in the
olives.
Uh-oh. I've somehow misread the recipe. Instead of buying oil-cured olives, I bought Nicoise olives,
decidedly different (but, umm, still French? does that count?). I decide to put in about a half-cup and pick up some
oil-cured olives while my stew is simmering.
Wow. Those beef chunks have taken on a decidedly
wine-colored hue after resting all day in their French table wine marinade. Some of them are purple-brown instead of
red. I test my pan to make sure it's hot by letting a few drops of marinade splatter in the pan. I get a satisfying
sputter from the hot oil, so I add in several pieces of beef, taking care not to crowd them.
I opened my fridge and there it was! My well-marinated
beef. All that I have to do now is throw it in a pot and cook it. Right? Whoops. There's a bunch to do today.
First, I need to let it come to room temperature. Given the fact that my three-year-old had to visit the doctor (ear
infection), I really don't have time. So I'm going to skip that step and just give the meat as much "rest" as
the time it takes to drain.
I set my beef chunks in a colander
to drain, reserving the marinade ingredients in their big bowl, while I heated up my very favorite pan: a 12-inch
cast-iron skillet. The instructions say to use two tablespoons of olive oil, and I just let the bottle do a few glugs
until it seems as if my saucepan bottom is well-covered.
Whoops! A few hours have passed since we cut the meat into 3- or
4-ounce pieces. Sorry about that, the baby that was getting into the cat food last time, I realized he'd better
have some human food. Oh well, such is life. Now it's time to prep the
carrots, onions and garlic. The instructions just say "garlic cloves," not "minced" or
"peeled" or "unpeeled."
Hmmm. I decided to just peel them and crush just a bit in the process (I smack
them with the wide edge of my knife to loosen the skins). My cloves look a little small... so I use eight or nine. I
love garlic. I decide to toss it all in. A little extra garlic never hurt anyone. Right?
4-5 pounds
stewing beef, cut into cubes weighing about four ounces each
five cloves garlic
2-3 medium
yellow onions, cut into rounds
4 carrots, peeled and cut into 1-inch lengths
1 bottle red
wine such as Côtes-du-Rhône
The first thing I'm going to do is figure out what a
four-ounce cube of beef should look like. I didn't ask my butcher to cut them, as recommended in Wells'
recipe. Hmm...
We all miss
Sara Moulton's Cooking Live like crazy. But instead of continuing to whine and complain about it, we're taking
measures. Until we launch the Slashfood Network, we're just gonna bring the live cooking to you via
blog.
Each Friday evening one of your lovely hosts or hostesses will be making a new or favorite dish with you.
This week, I'll be hosting gardiane La Camargue, La Camargue's Beef Stew with Black Olives, from Patricia Wells' Bistro
Cooking. As Patricia says, the gardiane is from France's "cowboy country" and is a stew of
beef, black olives and red wine.
This recipe requires some advance prep so we'll be starting the dish on
Thursday evening. In the meantime, you'll need to head to the grocery store for the following ingredients:
4-5 pounds stewing beef (like round and chuck)
garlic
2-3 medium yellow onions
4 carrots
1 bottle red wine such as Côtes-du-Rhône
4 ounces oil-cured black
olives
You should have olive oil, thyme and bay leaves in your pantry, but if you don't, add those to your
list. You'll need a large, non-reactive bowl (like glass or stoneware) and a large, non-reactive casserole or pot that
can go on the stovetop and in the oven (cast iron would work great). OK, see you tomorrow evening! larger scan
after the jump