Meals of Folly, or, It's All in the Sauce, Dummy

I believe this was the best browning job I have thus far done on short ribs. I used my nose to tell me when to turn them! Skills! I've been thinking, with every short rib meal I make, that they are one of the best cuts of beef. I might just like them better than steak. There. I said it. Although, the dishes one makes with this cut are rather like chocolate mousse in that you start eating thinking that it's the best thing on earth and that your serving is way too small and that there better be more because you are going to plow through this plate like no one's business. And then you hit your halfway mark and you think, "Huh, maybe it was the right serving size after all." Finally, you are a mere four bites from Clean Plate Club membership, now realizing "Lord have mercy! I am so full and should have stopped several bites ago." This is my experience with short ribs (and chocolate desserts), anyway.

So, what gives with the title? Where is the folly in this dish? Well, Dear Reader, we all know that you roast these bad boys for a couple hours in a nice sauce. Of course. We all know that it's all in the sauce - and this sauce is a good one, albeit unique: onion, celery, beef broth, vinegar, sugar, dry mustard, and ketchup. The line item actually says "ketchup or chili sauce." Please note, it does not say "hot" chili sauce. I'm sure you see where I'm going with this one.

So I don't have very much ketchup. In fact, I have 1/3 cup ketchup and I need 1 cup. I start squirting Sriracha hot chili sauce into my measuring cup thinking Maybe I should limit this to 1/4 cup and make up the difference with tomato sauce. Hmmm. But I do not stay my hand, nooooo, I continue to merrily squirt until the 3/4 cup mark. Hmmmmm. Folly.

It's a good dish. And it's good spicy. And my way was really spicy.

Folly Part II: Chicken Stew, by Dave Lieberman.

I have already bagged on Simply Ming, now I will have my verbal way with Dave L, that simp, that sorry excuse for a celebrity chef, that, that....

Again, I knew this sauce was going to suck. I knew that you just can't keep carrots boiling away for that long and actually expect them to be good enough to eat in the end product. The only liquid called for is water. I put in a little chicken broth - this would be the only place where I trusted my instincts. But the wreckage continued: onions became unrecognizable, carrots deteriorated, potatoes fell apart, the liquid was flavorless, the green beans were over-cooked. Well, that last part was my fault because I forgot to set the timer. The whole experience was awful. I thought, when I read the recipe, it sounded flavorless. I thought, as I put the ingredients in the pot, it sounded flavorless. I was so prescient and I did nothing to stop it! Nothing!

I think this is why I wasn't upset. Normally, Josh would have returned from putting Sam to bed to see me in a ball on the kitchen floor, cursing, raging, pondering the point of it all if I just can't get dinner right. But I knew what right was. I just didn't make it happen. I was calm and collected when I suggested we order pizza.

But Josh wanted to salvage it. He busted out the food processor and a sieve and made a really ugly, really plain, soup. I plan to add bacon and caramelized onion ... and Sriracha.

The moral of the story is: Trust your instincts, humble home chefs. You know what you're doing. Don't let the voice of self-doubt (and loathing?) creep in there and mess with your dinner!

Pot Roast

I realized that this was the first time I cooked a whole hunk of beef in a roast. I have done stews with "stew meat," i.e. cubed beef, but not a 4lb. chuck roast. A first! Where does one get such a large chunk of beast, you ask? Well, from a grass-fed cow, grown right here in WA State. Perhaps you recall that 1/4-steer I purchased back in late summer. I finally broke into the big guns. I have used quite a few 1.5lb. hamburger tubes, and a few steaks, but not these guys.

It simmered for three hours in wine, chicken broth, tomato sauce and herbs - no aromatics! It was quite good, simply shredding as I sliced it. I served it with roasted root vegetables and soda bread. The sauce paired so well with the caraway in the bread, mellowing it somehow. Delicious. My only complaint was that I salted it too heavily. I have seen Bobby Flay salt big chunks like this generously, declaring that such a large piece needs lots more seasoning than you would think. Well, I put on more than I would ever think of ... too much.

Speaking of grass-fed beef ... Josh and I have begun to tackle the garden. The last garden I planted was in raised beds that were already present. Josh and I just removed weeds, mixed in compost, and planted food. Simple. The rest of the land was planted with beautiful flowers and grasses and shrubs, all courtesy of the owners of 121. And maintained by their gardeners, since we were merely renting. But now! It's all ours. And what a mess it is. So, thinking of grass made me think of the weeds that I have been working to pull. They are so very good at what they do, aren't they? I am trying to convince Josh that (a) we seem to have so many more weeds than anyone else that our yard must be the very Origin of Weed; and (b) we should remove the top 5 inches of soil, just to be safe, because they are IN THERE. You pull them, and a few days later you see new ones come up.

I respect the weeds. They send their roots deep - some even have runners, so they go deep and far! We have one species that knows when it is being pulled, and it jettisons a billion seeds as you handle it. Brilliant and horrible all at one. Maybe we should slash and burn.

The Walkers - What an Epiphany!

You may recall that we were supposed to have the Walkers over on the 9th, but had to postpone, then they postponed, and here we are. The idea was to celebrate Epiphany, when the Wise Men arrived to give Baby Jesus a bouncy chair and a couple pacifiers. Really, it was an excuse to get together and I thought I might make King's Day bread for a traditional touch ... but didn't.

The Walkers are great fun. We always enjoy good conversation about child rearing, politics and religion. Matthew is their little one, and he is a whirlwind! He is so jazzed about everything and has energy that won't quit. Sam likes him quite a lot, and is always at his most enthusiastic in Matthew's presence.

I just realized that I forgot to photograph the kids' food! Sam gobbled up EB's fine meal of pesto pasta and fake chicken nuggets. The day before, he also guzzled down EB's snacks when the mommies and boys met at the zoo. Well, they were Matthew's snacks, prepared by EB. I guess whatever one's own Mommy does not make is more appetizing. Hm.

The adult menu was different. I love planning menus. I relish the time I get to spend with my cookbooks thinking of good combinations, assembling the shopping list, and making the timeline for the preparation. I get better with my timeline each dinner party. I think I was only 10 minutes late last night. Although that was after I called the Walkers to let them know that my original 5:30 dinner time needed to get pushed back to 6. The ribs had two steps, and I went to the store late, so got them in the oven late ... you get the picture. The menu: EB's fantastic and warm artichoke-spinach-camembert spread as an appetizer, then wilted kale salad, port-braised cipollini, mashed potatoes, and port-braised beef short ribs. For dessert, drunken bananas with vanilla ice cream (that Dave picked up for $1.75.) and almonds.

The onions were a disaster. Okay, that's too strong. They were an utter disappointment. Classic Jen move on this one, too. I have a port-brasied onion recipe that is really good, calling for pearl onions instead of cipollini. Is that the recipe I used? Goodness no, I went with a different one out of my new-fangled cookbook ... the cookbook that already steered me wrong on aioli. Surprise, surprise, they sucked. I think they need a caramelized flavor, and to cook longer, and the sauce needs a thickener because it was not getting thicker in the boiling down process. And, see that fat layer there? That's chicken broth and I think it thinned the port taste too much and was an ill-advised addition to the braising liquid. I didn't even finish my one onion. Oh, sorry, they're not actual onions. They are the bulbs of the grape hyacinth.

The kale salad, on the other hand, was delicious. This is a variation on a salad Josh and I have frequently. I usually make it with spinach, but I was feeling a kale vibe and went with it. You wilt the kale in boiling water for a couple of minutes, then drain. Saute (over barely med-high heat) four garlic cloves, sliced, with 1/2 cup golden raisins, 1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes and 2 T extra virgin olive oil, until golden. Then you add your kale and turn it in the oil et. al. until it's coated, warm, and a little more wilted. Be careful not to let the garlic burn. Off the heat add 2 tsp. each sherry vinegar and extra-virgin olive oil, and sprinkle 1/4 cup of slivered toasted almonds. Delicious every time. And I know the raisins may be a bit off-putting, but they make the salad, trust me. And they have to be golden.

I didn't photograph the mashed potatoes. We all know what they look like and I only made them to sop up the beef ribs' gravy. Mashed potatoes are the furniture of the food world: totally necessary in a room, but somewhat forgettable.

I did, however, photograph the roasting pan after the rendering process. I mentioned the two steps for the short ribs, and this was the first one. 1.5 hours at 375 to melt fat and brown meat.

This would be the browned meat. Did you know that, with meat, it is not "caramelization"? When you brown meat, you are conducting (setting in motion?) the Maillard reaction. "Caramelizing" is for food with a high concentration of carbohydrates and, therefore, sugars.

So after you brown the meat, you heat up a Dutch oven (Le Creuset), caramelize your aromatics, toss in all the liquids, throw the ribs back in, and put the whole thing in the oven for two hours. The result: Nothing short of Divine. I strained the sauce so that it was nice and smooth. The key ingredient to thicken? Minute tapioca! It worked swimmingly.

Finally, the Drunken Bananas. This dish was not a jewel in my prodigious dessert crown, but it was good. I wanted the sauce to be thicker. Perhaps a little tapioca in there would do the trick while in the oven. And next time I would like to try plantains, as the recipe calls for.

Come to think of it, Jacques Pepin has a crepes plus bananas foster recipe that I will probably try first. Since I have an entire bottle of rum, I might as well use it for something delicious. I certainly won't be drinking it. Yuck.

So the difference between PCD dinners and dinners now would be that the men don't sit at the table with glasses of whiskey while the ladies gab after the meal. Now we gauge how tired the kids are, and sign off by 8:30pm. It's a different kind of fun.