Since I love to bake, I prefer to make breads for sandwiches and things, rather than buying bread. Granted, I won't turn down a crusty baguette from one of my favorite bakeries, but I like homemade better than the bagged rolls and loaves that they sell at the market. Although it takes more time to bake the buns than it does to go out and buy them, the buns are not that difficult to make and the result is completely worth it.
These buns are neither too heavy nor too light and spongy (like some pre-made rolls). They will absorb any juices or condiments that leak off your burger without getting soggy. And on top of all that, they taste great.
I've finished cooking
my cassoulet, and it wasn't near as bad as I feared. Other than being labor-intensive for about an hour, it cooked
all by itself while I hung out with my family. It's now being consumed as fast as we can shovel it in our mouths. It's
so flavorful, and the different sorts of meats really go together well. I love LOVE the beans. I could eat them one by
one all night long.
Next time, I think I'll make it with lamb and substitute something else for the garlic sausage - I don't really
like it much. Maybe something spicy like andouille (although I know that's going a bit in a different direction). The
duck is fantastic, and although the whole dish is pricey, it's worth it - I fed six adults for about $30, and you could
go cheaper by purchasing your stew meat from a regular grocery store.
It's about 2 p.m. here in Portland, and I'm starting to cook my
cassoulet. I've got a pile full of meats from Pastaworks (I'm using the veal for my yummy French stew). I'm a little
jittery, as there are so many steps and so many different kinds of meat! I'm looking forward to finally attempting this
legendary French country dish (the ultimate in slow cooking, if you ask
me).
I'm going to start by cooking the white beans and, while they're simmering, I'll broil the duck confit. I'm
terrified by duck, so I need a clear head and a clean kitchen.
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?
OK, I've started
cutting the meat into pieces that are about four ounces each. For my first piece, I took a look at my whole
hunk and used my brilliant math knowledge to figure out that four ounces is one-fourth of a pound, and I have about
four pounds, so I need to cut my beef into approximate sixteenths.
Luckily, I just bought myself a sparkly new kitchen scale for Christmas. It's only the second time I've used it. I
cut my first piece and stuck it on the scale. Four ounces on the dot! Wow, I'm good, I tell my eight-month-old
smugly (realizing he's eating cat food. ooops).
I cut up the rest of the pieces, trying to keep a closer eye on the cat food, and end up with more
three-ounce pieces than four-ounce pieces. It turns out my ideal piece is a two-and-a-half or three-inch cube, or an
isosceles triangle with the long part being about four inches (it's beef, not a block of foam, after all). Next up:
carrots, onions and garlic.
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