DC took me to Braise for our anniversary dinner. It was a lovely place with the best service I’ve experienced in Singapore: warm and attentive yet unobtrusive. They noticed that I was cold and not only gave me a shawl, they also made sure that my hot water was topped up all the time.

It was too bad the tasting menu wasn’t very exciting, so we went a la carte. Still, the chef sent out an amuse bouche of some kind of pate on a sliver of toasted baguette. I don’t remember what it was, all I know that it was rich, very tasty and left us both wanting me. I suspect it’s a fish rillette of sorts. We’ll have to see whether it makes its way to the main menu before telling.

DC’s starter was just his thing: a rich and unctuous pairing of foie gras and sweetbread. I wasn’t sure of the spongey-grainy texture of the sweetbread, but DC loved it. It’s pretty difficult to get parts like pancreas in Singapore.

I had half a dozen fines de claire oysters au naturel. They didn’t even need the lemon, they were so fresh. I loved how the sharp, slightly briny taste mellowed into mouth-filling savour. It was a pity they didn’t have a muscadet to go with it, that pairing is made in heaven. I was so sad when I ate my last one, enjoying the aftertaste for as long as I could. It’ll be a while before I get oysters of that quality again.

Now for the mains. Mine was a straightforward roast beef in jus, paired with braised beef cheek, savoy cabbage and decadent, decadent buttery mash. It was a good dish that tasted far better than it looks in the picture. (The problem with romantic settings is that pictures just don’t come out well at all.) The beef was nicely rare, just as I like it, and the beef cheek the expected melt-in-mouth tender. Coupled with the very buttery mashed potato, it was a tad on the rich side, which DC quite predictably loved. Needless to say, I finished the savoy cabbage quite quickly as it was a good foil to all the butter and fat.

I think DC may have had the more interesting dish. His grilled fish with capellini was quite different as fish and cheese are not commonly paired. The pasta was doused in a very cheesy stock that wasn’t at all stringy. It was as if the essence of cheese had been distilled and used to flavour the pasta, without having any actual cheese in it. I can’t even imagine how they made this. The fish itself was good too, with a nice gratinated crust. It was ordinary in a good way.

Dessert was a bit of a pity. I didn’t understand why they had to deconstruct a trifle. I liked the apple jelly and granite, it was just a pity that the custard was starchy. It showed that either the head chef was off-duty or hadn’t any confidence in his custard-making skills or both. I liked the cinnamon donut, but wasn’t sure of the point of it. Yes yes, I know that it’s the deconstructed trifle sponge, but it didn’t really add anything to the dessert. Braise would do better if they hired a better dessert chef.

In summary, we’ve got outstanding starters and very competent, somewhat creative mains. Avoid the dessert and you’ll have a fabulous dinner.

Braise
60 Palawan Beach Walk
Level 2 Sentosa
Tel: 6271 1929

Now that I’ve found out the farmer’s market carries escarole, I’ve been using it in dishes like this minestrone and this

braised escarole

salad.  It looks like a head of Bibb or Boston lettuce, but it’s a sturdier green and has a little bitterness to it.  I spotted this recipe for braised escarole a few weeks ago on Food & Wine and saved it thinking it would be a good side dish with this veggie loaf with checca sauce.  I modified it slightly by taking out the meat, but it still tasted nice and rich.  Serves 6 as a side dish.

Ingredients:

3 T olive oil

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 t red pepper flakes

2 large heads escarole, about 2-2 1/2 lbs, rinsed well and roughly chopped

1 14 oz can diced tomatoes

1 T fresh minced oregano

salt and pepper to taste

1/4 c panko or dried breadcrumbs

2 T grated Parmesan

Directions:

Heat 2 T olive oil in a large pot over medium high heat.  Add garlic and red pepper flakes and cook, stirring constantly, until the garlic is golden, being careful not to burn the garlic.  Add escarole in 3 batches, cooking 2 minutes each time until wilted, then adding the next batch.  Add the tomatoes and their juice, oregano, and season with salt and pepper and bring to a boil.  Cook over low heat until the escarole is tender, about 15 minutes.

Five minutes before escarole is done, heat remaining tablespoon of olive oil in a small skillet over medium heat.  Add panko or breadcrumbs, and cook, stirring, until they are crispy and golden brown, about 1 minute.  Remove pan from heat and stir in Parmesan.  Using a slotted spoon, place esarole and tomatoes in a dish and sprinkle with breadcrumb mixture.  Serve immediatley.

We planned Wednesday night as ours to hang out in the apartment and get down to some Christmastime decorating (see previous post for fireplace pic).  In order to do so, I put together a greenmarket pot roast to feast on while stringing popcorn and stitching stockings (almost sickeningly cute).  It was seriously delicious.

Y’Need:

2 lbs grass-fed chuck (or brisket or similar cut), cut into appropriately-sized pieces

1 carrot, peeled and chopped

1 parsnip, ditto

1 onion, again

1/2 head celery root, also

2 cloves garlic, same

1 sprig rosemary

3 cups chicken stock, beef stock (not store-bought), or water

1/2 glass red wine

Splash of red wine vinegar

1/4 lb shiitake mushrooms, stems removed

1/2 bunch kale, roughly chopped

olive oil, salt, pepper, chili powder (or dried chili)

biscuits, to serve (I got mine from egg)

Y’Do:

Cut the chuck into thick strips to sear in your oil-coated pot.  Season, and sear on all sides for a couple minutes until browned.  Remove and add the onions and a touch of water if needed to deglaze the pan.  Add salt and cook the onions until translucent.  Add the other root vegetables, the garlic, and the shiitake stems.  Cook until all is browned, then deglaze with the red wine.  Let simmer a minute, then add the meat back in, adding water or stock to cover, plus a splash of red wine vinegar.  Season with salt, pepper, and chili powder, and bring to a boil.  Lower heat and cook very slowly, at just below a simmer, for 3-4 hours.  While doing this, work out, read a book, drink…whatever you want.  When you can barely lift the meat without it falling apart, it is done.  Taste the liquid with a chunk of bread, and season as necessary.  If you have time, allow the meat to cool in the juices, otherwise remove and strain the liquid (if you want a thicker sauce here, make a roux and whisk together a gravy).

Sear!

Mirepoix

Just cover and braise

Now, to go with the braised meat and sauce, I made some vegetables from the kale, fennel, and shiitake caps.  Heat some oil in a saute pan and add the fennel, thinly sliced, along with the shiitakes.  Cook over medium-high until the fennel is translucent and both are browning.  Add the kale, and a few tablespoons of the braising liquid, and cook together until shiny and delicious.  Season accordingly.

Veg Heaven

Lay the meat down on a big platter, vegetables in the middle, and serve with biscuits and sauce on the side.  I think the way to go is lay a biscuit half in the bottom of a bowl, a couple chunks of meat and a hefty pile of veg on top, then douse the whole thing with a bunch of sauce.  I doubt there’s anything better when the heat’s not on and it’s twenty outside.  Plus a couple glasses of wine.

When the weather outside is frightful...

Enjoy.

Do you like beef? Do you like beef stew? When was the last time you made stew? I like, no, I love beef. Beef stew in its traditional way, not so much. I don’t really care for the boiled in potatoes and carrots. I don’t know what it is about them, the mushy texture, the taste they develop. I don’t know. Anyway. I make stew a bit more latinized, is that even a word? Carne guisada is what I make and what I like.

It may be a culture thing, but I prefer my meats fatty, especially when they’ll undergo a fair amount of braising. For this dish I would suggest using something like a shoulder or butt roast, these cuts are very forgiving. You will notice this has no root veggies, feel free to add some if you prefer them. I’m partial to onions and bell peppers which go in fairly early and will essentially dissolve into the sauce, so you don’t have to worry about fancing cutting. This recipe is pretty easy to make and I hope you will try it!

Carne Guisada
Ingredients
2-3 lb shoulder roast
3 cloves garlic, minced (2 tsp garlic puree)
1 tsp sea salt
1 tsp Jugo Maggi
1 tsp oregano, crushed
1 tsp black pepper, ground
3 tbsp olive oil
2 large onions, chopped
1 large red bell pepper, chopped
1/2 cp cilantro, finely chopped
1 tbsp tomato paste
1 cp dark beer

Chop the roast into cubes, about 2-inches wide; season with garlic, salt, oregano, black pepper and Jugo Maggi. Set aside and chop the rest of your vegetables. In a medium pan or dutch oven type, heat up the oil then brown the beef cubes on all sides, you may need to do this in batches. Once done browning all the beef, set it aside. 

Add onions and bell peppers to the oil in the saucepan and cook until onions are translucent. Stir in the cilantro and tomato paste, then the beer. Incorporate all of this and check the seasoning. Keep in mind you don’t want it to be salty, it will braise for a while and the flavors will intensify. Add the beef and stir to make sure it is all covered in the braising liquid. Allow it to come to a boil, then lower temperature to medium low and cover. Simmer it this way for about 45-60 minutes, stirring it ocassionally.

When the beef is fork tender, remove the lid and allow it to cook for another 15 minutes. This allows the sauce to thicken a bit. You’re done, serve with rice.

I’ve written about Danno’s NOLA Cuisine already. Nothing has changed: it’s an inspiring read that should not be missed. One of the reasons I like it (and cultural food writing in general) is because it is such a wonderful jumping-off point. There is a very real tension between the delicious and the authentic when you’re talking about reproducing a food culture that is ultimately in the eye (mouth?) of the beholder. There are self-imposed boundaries that help define the mission of the cultural food writer, and those boundaries are most often discussed in terms of authenticity.

What often goes unspoken is the concept of fashion. Fashionability and authenticity are extraordinarily difficult for the cultural food writer to balance. Food culture is ubiquitous: we all eat.  But (aside from those concerned about how their food affects their health) caring about what you eat can quickly become a hipster club without the skinny jeans and big sunglasses.

But still, it’s a fashion club. I have a co-worker whose grandmother used canned oysters in her gumbo. That’s OK for her, but is it OK for us? Something unspoken pushes automatically for fresh oysters. They’re just better, right? Except I’ve never tasted a canned oyster. Maybe they’re great! But good or bad, they’re unfashionable. The way browning sauces like Kitchen Bouquet are unfashionable.

Kitchen Bouquet comes up in Danno’s recipe for Roast Beef Po’ Boys. It’s not fashionable, but it’s authentic, or so the story goes. I’m going on and on about this because I just want to say, very clearly and without obfuscating the point, that my greatest desire is to leave behind the intersection of food and fashion. Authenticity is an injection of historic values that may or may not be relevant to a given recipe. Fashionability is an over-emphasis of one’s own cultural food ego that is directly opposed to the concept of authenticity: it has everything to do with the cook and nothing to do with the culture that produced the dish being cooked. It’s totally disingenuous and has no place in our kitchens.

No one should have to justify the use of an ingredient the way Danno defends the inclusion of Kitchen Bouquet in his recipe.  Please pardon my language, but just fuck that.  If it’s delicious, it should just be in, no explanation necessary.  I’m not saying my punk rock is more punk than any one else’s punk rock. I’m saying that the big-sunglasses-and-vintage-clothes aesthetic has nothing to do with delicious food.

So Danno does a good job interpreting a home version of Parasol’s Roast Beef Po’ Boy recipe, and I encourage you to read his post. I’ve never been to Parasol’s, and I don’t have any attachment to trying to reproduce their sandwich. My recipe is different: my gravy is a little more complex and you’ll end up with more of it than you need for the sandwiches, which is a beautiful thing. I don’t put the same emphasis on the bread you use, which makes the whole affair easier to shop for (and easier to eat).

Here comes one of the best things you will ever eat.  Here’s some music.  Let’s do this:

1 beef roast, ~3 lbs
1 yellow onion, skin on, quartered
4 garlic cloves, crushed
2 ribs celery, broken in half
1 carrot, broken in half
6 sprigs parsley
1 teaspoon dried thyme
5 cloves, whole
10 peppercorns, whole
1 tablespoon salt
A little bit of something brown (optional, see note below recipe)

Put all that in a big pot. Add water to cover the beef. Over high heat, bring it all to a boil. Cover and reduce heat to maintain a steady simmer. Simmer two hours, poking it occasionally to move around the chunks of awesome stuff in there. Pull out the beef and set it aside to cool. Strain the stock and return it to the pot.

Bring the stock to a boil over high heat. Your goal here is to reduce the liquid until you’ve got about four or five cups left in the pot.

While that’s happening, make a roux. Combine the following in a bowl:

1/2 cup flour
1/4 cup oil

Whisk them together. Not very sexy, I know.

When you’ve got about four or five cups of stock left in the pot, turn off the heat. Wait for the boil to stop, then whisk the roux into the stock. Bring to a very slow boil. Cook, stirring occasionally, for about 20 minutes. While it’s hot, it should coat the back of a spoon. If it seems too thin, make a very small amount of additional roux and whisk it in. If it’s too thick, add a touch of water. Remember: it will thicken A LOT as it cools.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

While the gravy cooks and the oven heats, trim and slice the beef. It should be close to fall-apart tender, which is awesome. Your mission here: remove as much of the fat and connective tissue as seems sensible to you (all of it?), then thin-slice the remaining meat, cutting against the grain as much as possible.

Taste the gravy for seasoning. Do what you must.

Put the sliced beef in a roasting pan. Smother it with gravy (you’ll very probably have more gravy than you need.  Awesome!). Cover the pan with aluminum foil and put it in the 350 degree oven until thoroughly warmed through, 10-15 minutes.

While that’s heating, prepare for the finish. How much of all this you want will depend on how many sandwiches you’re making. A 3-pound roast will generally yield enough beef for six standard-sized sandwich rolls. Do what seems right. I recommend the following:

Sandwich rolls, warmed in the oven alongside the beef
Iceberg lettuce, shredded
Tomatoes, sliced
Dill pickles, sliced
Lots of mayonnaise, all over the inside of the rolls

Assemble the sandwiches: Bottom of the roll, lots of beef and gravy, lettuce, tomato, pickle, top of the roll. High-five anyone nearby.

Life is good. A few things:

• I never pay attention to the cut of beef that I’m buying, except for the price.  My local supermarkets offer a variety of gnarly looking roasts cut from various parts of the steer.  If you buy the cheapest roast you can find around three or four pounds, you’re going to have a lot of success with this recipe.
• In the list of ingredients above I mentioned adding something brown.  Here’s what I was thinking:  a browning sauce like Kitchen Bouquet, or beef bullion, or some other kind of beef base, or etc.  I sometimes use a little Better Than Bullion soup base.  Keep in mind that this is going to increase the salt content!
• You could also brown the beef over high heat in the pot, before you add the water and all the other stock components.  I bet that would be really great: lots of seared brown beefy flavor in your stock.  Personally, I like just throwing a bunch of stuff in the pot and forgetting about it.
• Once the gravy is thickened, you can eat it if you want.  I say cook it, to get rid of the taste of the raw flour.  Maybe you like raw flour!  If so, adjust however seems sane to you.  If you do cook it as called for, keep in mind that the higher the heat the more you’ll need to mind it.  High heat means you’ve gotta stir constantly to avoid burning the starch to the bottom of the pot, so use low heat!  Shoot for a super-slow boil.
• Again: taste the gravy! If it needs salt, and you don’t salt it, the whole sandwich will be bland.  Don’t let that happen.
• Use whatever bread seems reasonable to you.  Sandwich or stadium rolls make the most sense to me: easy to find, easy to bite through, and it takes a while for the gravy to totally soak through them.  You know, whatever.
• These sandwiches are endlessly messy. So incredibly messy. Pile it on and warn your guests.  Get a bunch of napkins, tuck in, and go to work.
• SAVE THE EXTRA GRAVY.  PUT IT IN THE REFRIGERATOR, YOU SAVAGE.  DO NOT THROW IT AWAY.
• I don’t call these roast beef sandwiches.  It’s beef roast, but it’s not roasted beef.  It’s poached!  But poached beef sandwiches…. that sounds gross.  I dunno.  Beef po’ boys: that’s the way to go.  It’s true, and it sounds good.
• What is a po’ boy anyway? As always, check your sources boys and girls.

Since November tripped into December way too quickly for my liking, I’m hurrying to markets to salvage the last bits of warm light, vegetables, and flavors that have hung around this long.  I know Mark Bittman stole our thunder on this one, with his fancy curried turkey leftovers bit on NYTimes.com, but this dish is somewhat different, a little more seasonal, and, of course, ovenless.

Also cramping our style today, Grub Street posted about the Chang/Batali session at the Strand last night that Rachel and I checked out (although we left as the audience questions started, missing the Rachel Ray appearance). The two chefs, along with Peter Meehan, appeared with Heinekens on stage and still managed to be not only funny but, at times, insightful as well.  Anyway, on to the recipe.

This is a really easy way to make really tasty chicken for very little money.  Our ingredients were 2 chicken legs, 1 bunch of baby rutabaga we picked up at the market at Borough Hall, some mushrooms we had in the fridge, and a shallot.  Plus a little wine and sriracha.  You could add anything you want to this (cilantro, tomato, pickled vegetables) but we wanted something simple and fast, that we didn’t need to buy anything extra for.

Y’Need:

2 chicken legs (thigh and drumstick)

5 baby rutabaga, peeled and diced

3 baby portobello mushrooms, sliced

1 shallot, sliced or diced

1/3 c white wine

1/3 c chicken stock or water

splash white wine vinegar

curry powder (yours or store-bought)

sriracha

salt and pepper

sliced cucumbers

hummus

pitas

Y’Do:

Season the chicken (salt, pepper, curry powder) and sear it on both sides until browned.  Deglaze the pot with white wine, reduce a minute, and add stock or water to 1/2 the height of the chicken.  Add one of the baby rutabaga, 1 garlic clove, 1 mushroom, and 1/2 the shallot, plus a squirt of sriracha.  Cover the pot and let the chicken braise for about 10 or 15 minutes.

Peel over Paper

Chicken Braising

In another pan, beat some oil and saute the rest of the shallot, rutabaga, and mushroom with a little red pepper flake.  When nicely browned, deglaze the pan with a splash of white wine vinegar.  Add a couple tablespoons of the liquid you’re braising the chicken in, and cook until the vegetables are just tender.

Vegetables

When the chicken is cooked, remove it from the pot.  Let the liquid reduce, and pull the meat from the bones.  When shredded, add the chicken back into the reduced liquid and let simmer.

Slice some cucumber.  Plate the chicken and vegetables in separate piles.  Put extra liquid in a bowl for dipping.  Serve with the cucumbers, hummus and warmed pitas (plus some sriracha on the side) and assemble the pita sandwiches as you eat.

Pita Time

This recipe gave me a use for my preserved lemons, which I wrote about here. The beef is braised in a flavorful broth of diced preserved lemons, cilantro, and Middle Eastern spices. The sweet, earthy flavors of sunchokes and pearl onions come out in the long braise and balance out the spice and sourness of the sauce. My produce store was out of sunchokes when I made this, so I substituted parsnips and celery root with good results.

Heating up some of the leftovers... Finally got around to getting a picture. Food first, then photos

This recipe is from Braise: A Journey Through International Cuisine, by Daniel Boulud and Melissa Clark:

3 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 (3 1/2-pound) beef shoulder; ask your butcher for the fattest part
coarse sea salt or kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tsp paprika
2 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp ground turmeric
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
2 cups pearl onions, peeled
3 large carrots, peeled, trimmed, and roughly chopped
3 pounds Jerusalem artichokes (sunchokes)
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1/4 cup diced preserved lemon
freshly squeezed juice of 2 lemons

1. Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 275 F.
2. Heat the olive oil in a medium cast-iron pot or Dutch oven over high heat. Season the beef with salt and pepper. Add the beef and sear until golden brown on all sides, about 15 minutes. Transfer the beef to a platter and reduce the heat to medium.

3. Add the paprika, cumin, ginger, turmeric, and cayenne to the pot and cook for 1 minute. Add the pearl onions, carrots, and Jerusalem artichokes, season with salt, and cook for 5 minutes more. Stir in 4 cups water and the cilantro, preserved lemon, and lemon juice. Return the beef to the pot and bring to a simmer.

4. Cover the pot and transfer it to the oven to braise for 2 1/2 hours, turning the meat halfway through.

You want good fast food? Just learn one quick technique and you’ll be able to cook hundreds of different dishes.

Technically, sauté is French for jump or rise up. Culinarily, it is something like pan frying, except you cook foods in a modest amount of hot fat in a wide shallow pan. The goal is cooking them through without added moisture.

In this Southern Indian-inspired dish (a sauté is a sauté, is a sauté – change seasonings at will, but the sauté technique stays the same), you heat oil in a big shallow pan, add chicken breasts with their seasonings, brown them over high heat, then cook them to tender and done by lowering the heat quite a bit and covering the pan. This way the meat is surrounded by warmth.

If instead of chicken you were sautéing something that cooks much faster, like a fish filet, you would not cover the pan. If you added just a little wine to the pan, maybe 1/4 cup, technically you’d still be sautéing.

 Add a cup or more of liquid to really moisten the main ingredient, and you step into a new technique – the braise. You braise tougher meat cuts and vegetables which demand more time to tenderize, like cabbage, carrots, rutabaga and potatoes. Add enough liquid to cover the food, and you have a stew.

Just remember the two tricks to the sauté: brown over high heat, finish cooking over very low heat for juicy results. Do it all very fast over high temperatures and you’ll toughen your dinner.

GINGER-SHALLOT CHICKEN BREASTS

Steamed bok choy or Napa cabbage is excellent with this, as are rice noodles or rice.

4 servings

• 4 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves, about 1-1/2 pounds

• 1 tablespoon soy sauce

• 1-1/2 inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and coarse chopped

 • 4 large shallots, or 1/2 medium onion and 1 clove garlic, peeled

• 1/4 teaspoon turmeric

• 1 teaspoon ground coriander

• 1 tablespoon brown sugar

• 1 to 2 fresh jalapeno, or Serrano chiles, seeded (optional)

• 2 tablespoons expeller pressed canola oil

• Extra oil for the sauté

1. If time allows, place the chicken in a plastic storage container. In a blender or food processor puree all the other ingredients (except the oil for the sauté) with a little water. Add puree to the container with the chicken, turn pieces to coat thoroughly, and cover. Refrigerate 30 minutes to 24 hours. If there’s no time to marinate it, pat the chicken dry, assemble all the other ingredients and go to the next step.

2. Lightly film a 12-inch straight-sided sauté pan with oil and heat over medium high. Add the chicken (that you’ve possibly removed from the marinade and patted dry – save the marinade), not letting the pieces touch. Sear on one side for a minute or so, turn and lightly brown on the second side.

3. Reduce heat to medium low, cover the pan and cook, turning the chicken once, 10 minutes (if the meat threatens to burn, add a few tablespoons of water), or until the pieces are just firm when pressed. Remove the chicken from the pan and let stand in a warm place for 5 to 8 minutes for juices to settle (it will be more tender and juicy because of this rest).

4. Put the sauté pan back over medium heat and stir in the marinade ingredients. Sauté them 2 to 3 minutes, stirring frequently, or until they are fragrant and beginning to color. Then add 1/2 cup water and simmer 3 minutes, scraping up any browned bits in the pan. The mixture should be thick and rich tasting. Scrape a little over each piece of chicken and serve.

 LYNNE’S TIPS • You could glaze the chicken by swirling 1/2 cup of passion fruit juice, along with the reserved marinade, into the pan once the bird is done. Boil it down to a syrup and pour over the meat. The juice will pick up all the great tasting bits in the pan.

Tonight I decided to take Katie up on her request for beer braised turkey. I got two big turkey legs, some braising veggies and a 4 pack of Guinness. The finished product came out as a beautiful dinner. Beer braised turkey legs, grits topped with reduced beer sauce and toasted Brussels sprouts. Delicious!

Garnish with chopped parsley and enjoy with the rest of the wine.

Great beef, great wine, tomatoes, and herbs. That’s the essence of this Italian stew. Usually when browning meat for a stew or braise, it’s good to do only a little at a time, to not overcrowd the pan and lower the temperature too much. In this recipe however, a different technique is used, and all the beef can be browned at once. The meat will release a lot of its water, which will be cooked away, leaving the meat receptive to the flavors of the wine and tomato sauce. Once the meat browns, add onions and garlic, then some tomato paste, and then deglaze the pan with red wine. Bring to a boil, braise for an hour, add tomato sauce, and braise for another hour or so. The beef will be fork-tender, the sauce rich and satisfying. A nice green salad and some good crusty bread to soak up the sauce would round the meal out just fine.

In this method it doesn't matter how crowded the pan gets with the meat.

A lot of water will be released, and then the beef will basically be boiled in its own moisture until it evaporates, and the meat browns.

When the moisture dries up, add onions and garlic, then some tomato paste.

Cook out the tomato paste for a minute or so, then add a cup of red wine. I used a nice fruity Tuscan Sangiovese/Merlot blend.

After an hour, add tomato sauce.

The recipe, from Second Helpings from Union Square Cafe:

2 tablespoons vegetable oil
3 pounds trimmed beef chuck, cut into 1- to 1 1/2-inch cubes
1 cup chopped onion
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 bay leaf
2 teaspoons coarse sea salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 cup red wine
2 cups Basic Tomato Sauce or store-bought tomato sauce
1 tablespoon sliced fresh sage leaves
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

2. Heat the oil to smoking over high heat in a deep, straight-sided skillet large enough to hold the meat in one layer. Add the meat and cook, stirring occasionally, until all the juices have evaporated and the meat is browned, 20 to 25 minutes. (Turn the heat down if necessary to keep the meat from browning.)

3. Reduce the heat to medium. Stir in the onion, garlic, bay leaf, salt, and pepper. Cook until the onion is soft but not brown, about 3 minutes. Stir in the tomato paste, cook for 1 additional minute, and then add the wine. Bring to a boil, cover tightly, and bake in the oven until the meat is tender and almost all of the wine has evaporated, about 1 hour.

4. Stir in the tomato sauce and the sage, return the pan to the oven, and continue baking until the meat is soft enough to cut with a spoon, about 1 hour longer. Transfer to a warm, deep platter, sprinkle with the chopped parsley, and serve piping hot.

Work has been wearing me out lately, so DC decided to take me out for a weeknight splurge at Le Bistrot du Sommelier. It has a very traditional country-style French menu with surprisingly large portions. We ended up sharing a soup and a for-two main course.

The garbure soup was pretty excellent. The base was chopped vegetables in a light chicken and duck stock. On its own, it’d be a really boring vegetable soup. What made it pretty darn sublime were both the ravioli and the chicken dumpling. The mini ravioli were perfect little parcels stuffed with savoury cheese. Against the bland foil of the soup, the slightly chewy morsels gave out bursts of salty pleasure with each bite. And then the chicken dumpling. It had a lot more chicken than flour in it and was incredibly soft and delicate. I wasn’t sure of the slightly grainy texture of overdone chicken breast, but the flavour was deeply chickeny. One of the best bits of the soup was the crispy croutons. I don’t know how the grilled chunks of country bread retained the crunch even though waterlogged, but they did and… bliss.

We went for the Baekenofe pork casserole for two made of different cuts of pork: cheek, trotter, belly and bacon. There were two large pieces of each in the claypot interspersed with carrot and turnip chunks as well as new potatoes. This dish is one of the few that made me like new potatoes (which I obviously normally detest). The whole dish was awash in white wine, with some cuts, especially the trotter, redolent with alcohol. It was lovingly braised so that the pork was tender. The best cut was the cheek, which just about didn’t require much chewing to enjoy. I just let it sit in my mouth for a moment to savour the taste and let it disintegrate slowly into a fragrant heap. (Pardon the red cast of the photo, we sat under the sign board lit in red so there’s no helping the hue of the photo. Sorry.)

This place has great food. It’s too bad that it’s not exactly the cheapest place around and the service can be quite take-it-or-leave-it French. Even though we were the first to arrive on a weeknight they flatly refused to let us sit inside, claiming that it was all reserved inside. Mysteriously, we noticed only one table inside over the time we had our dinner. The outside doesn’t have the best atmosphere because of all the construction work going on opposite.

[An aside: If you'd like great atmosphere, just step two units down to the Creperie Des Armes. The Brittany atmosphere is amazing, made me feel like I was in a corner cafe in Europe. What was better was the warm welcome of the French couple running the place. Here, the couple smiled so much and tried so hard to please that I couldn't help fall in love with the place. I practised my dormant French here, to the lady owner's delight. It's a pity that another place I like has far superior crepes. Also didn't help that the crepes came out one by one, so not good for impatient or hungry hordes. ]

Le Bistrot du Sommelier
46 Prinsep Street #01-01 Prinsep Place
Tel: 6333 1982

This meal came about at a good time, when our GREAT friend Tommy Eskew was making his presence felt in the BK.  We had eaten a few good meals around, seen some great music (Gabriel Alegria @ Tutuma Social Club — get you some) and had an overall wonderful time, accompanied by the one and only Jonny Salud along the way.  The only thing left was to cook up.

I had been in Connecticut the day before helping out at the Dressing Room, doing a special tasting for Sam Kass, the Obama’s personal chef at the White House, and Desiree Rogers, the White House Social Secretary.  For the tasting, I made some fresh pappardelle pasta, and took the extra pasta dough back to Brooklyn to use while Tommy was in town.  Oxtail had been on my mind for a while (neck to tail eating!) and I figured it would be more or less dope braised and served as a pasta sauce.  I’d recently read that Batali’s oxtail pasta at Babbo had been ranked by some mag or another as the ‘best pasta in the world’, so I thought it was time to one-up him.

Very importantly, this was Sunday, and Johhny, Tommy, Rachel and I had some New Orleans reminiscing to do courtesy of that WHO DAT….watching the Saints and sipping Abitas at the bar down the road.  Another reason a braise is great, you can set it and forget it at home, come back in a few hours and it’s lusciousness in a pot…especially if you don’t have to worry about the pot balancing between two burners and rush home in the 4th quarter to check on it!  Anyway, here’s the recipe.  Let deliciousness ensue.

At the risk of sounding foolish...cooking IS a balancing act

Note:  I guess I haven’t mentioned this, but most of the recipes here, since we’re cooking for two, serve 2 or 3 (we eat a lot, but still usually have leftovers).  This served 6 pretty well, with a side of sauteed kale and some bread.

Y’Need:

For the sauce:

2 lbs fresh oxtail, cut into 1 – 2 inch pieces

1 1/2 yellow onions, peeled and diced

1 carrot, diced

2 cloves garlic, diced

6 canned whole peeled tomatoes, diced (plus some of the tomato juice)

small glass of red wine

1 1/2 qt veal stock (or chicken stock, or water)

a few sprigs of thyme, a bay leaf

Salt, Pepper,

Olive Oil

Butter and Parmesean cheese (for finishing)

8oz good ricotta cheeze

1/4 c grated parmesean

1 sprig picked thyme leaves

zest of 1 lemon

For the Kale:

1 large bunch Kale

Red Pepper Flakes

1/2 clove garlic, finely diced

Olive oil

Lemon

Salt, Pepper

Y’Do:

For the sauce: Coat a dutch oven or saucepot (whatever you’re making the braise in) with olive oil and heat.  Season the oxtail pieces and brown all around in the pan; remove.  Put your minced onion and carrot in the pan and sweat out slowly, until the onion begins to brown, about 8 minutes.  Add the garlic, cook for a minute, and deglaze with the wine.  Add your tomatoes, thyme, bay leaf, and oxtails into the pot, and enough stock (or water) to nearly cover the oxtail.  Bring this to a boil, them reduce to a very low simmer, just above a steam, so a bubble is popping open only every few seconds.  Cover, and let cook for 2+ hours (roughly a Saints game), or until the meat is nearly falling off the bone.  Basically get it as tender and delicious as possible.

In our case, we set the pot and left the house to watch the Saints game around the corner, only briefly worrying about the contents of the pot wobbling their way to the floor.

Sauce

When the oxtail is ready, remove the pieces from the pot, and turn up the heat so the liquid begins to reduce (skim any excess fat from the top of the sauce, though a little left is alright).  When the meat is cool enough, remove all meat from the bones with your fingers, shredding it into small pieces.  When the liquid is just about the proper consistency, add the meat back in and keep warm.

'Tail Meat

For the Kale:

Toss the garlic in a large saute pan with some olive oil over medium heat.  Add the kale, and season with salt and pepper.  Place a lid on the pan (it’s okay if it doesn’t exactly fit) and let the kale saute/steam for a few minutes, until glistening and cooked through (with only a slight bite, depending on your taste).  Add a dash of red pepper flakes to the pan and toss.  Squeeze a squirt of lemon juice in, and eat.

Kale

To finish:

Mix all the ingredients under the ricotta section together, adding a bit of olive oil and salt and pepper to taste.
I happened to have fresh-made pasta on hand, but this would work with any broad-noodle dried pasta (pappardelle being my choice) or with others such as rigatone or gnocchi.

Rachel rolling pasta

Cutting the pappardelle

Cook your pasta until it is done to your liking (just al dente for me).  In one pan have some of the sauce heating.  Place your pasta in the sauce pan and toss together until they’ve gotten to know each other.  Add a bit of butter, a slick of olive oil, and a good grating of Parmesan cheese.  Toss again and plate, with more cheese and some pepper on top.  On each portion, put a dollop of your ricotta mixture, and a little chopped parsley or some thyme leaves for green-ness (if you wish).  Serve the pasta and kale with your favorite crusty mopping bread, and wine or beer.

Food on the Table

Digging In

If you read my post from a couple weeks ago regarding my purchase of 50 pounds of apples, it will come as no surprise to you that I am also an impulse buyer when it comes to meat.  Whenever I see meat on sale at the grocery store, I can’t help but buy it.  Ribeyes, pork loins, and leg of lamb all find their way into my cart if the price is right.  At home, I either incorporate my recent purchase into a meal for that week or into the freezer it goes for a future dinner.

This method of selecting meat led me to pick up a 4 pound piece of meat a couple of weeks ago.  The price per pound was ridiculously low and the fact that it was a large hunk of red meat meant that it would be a hit with my husband.  I pulled it out of the freezer this weekend to defrost and spent much time thinking about how I would prepare it and how delicious it would be.  What I did not think too much about was what type of meat I had bought.  And when I finally took a minute to look at the label, I realized that I wasn’t working with prime rib, but rather a somewhat less exciting bottom round roast.  No wonder it was so cheap! 

Fortunately, cheap beef does not equal bad beef.  Rather, it just means you have to know how to cook it in order to make it tender, and therefore enjoyable, to eat.  Braising is the process by which food is first browned in fat and then covered and cooked with a small amount of liquid for a long time at a low heat.  When done correctly, braising can make even the toughest foods, flavorful and tender.  In other words, if I wasn’t going to cut up my meat for a stew than a recipe for braising was the obvious choice.

This recipe for braised pot roast makes for a hearty dinner for cold nights. While there are several ingredients, it’s relatively easy to make and can be made 2-3 days ahead and reheated which is helpful on busy weeknights.  When browning the meat, make sure to get a nice caramelized sear on it as this is the step in which flavor is really developed.  Finally, everyone has an opinion on whether to use expensive or cheap wine when cooking, so I thought I would share mine.  I use cheap wine to cook, because I think that the special qualities of a good wine are lost during cooking and I’d much rather drink a nice wine than eat it. 

Braised Pot Roast
Serves 6

1 (4-5 lb) bottom round roast or chuck roast
1/2 cup all purpose flour
1 tablespoon salt
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 cup less sodium beef broth or homemade beef stock
1/2 cup dried shiitake mushrooms
2 carrots, sliced on the bias
2 celery stalks, sliced
2 onions, chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
2 cups dry red wine
2 tablespoons brandy
1 (28-ounce) can whole tomatoes with their juice
1 sprig of thyme
2 sprigs of rosemary

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.  Place a rack in the center of the oven.

Pat the beef dry and if there is a lot of fat on your piece of meat, trim some of it off.  A little fat left on will add great flavor so don’t try to take it all off.  On a small plate, mix together flour, salt, and freshly ground pepper.  Dredge the meat in the seasoned flour mixture being sure to coat all sides.

Meanwhile, bring the beef broth to a boil in a small saucepan.  Once boiling, remove the saucepan from the heat and add the dried shiitake mushrooms to the broth.  Allow the mushrooms to soak in the beef broth for at least fifteen minutes.

In a large oven-safe Dutch oven, heat the two tablespoons of oil over high heat.  When the oil starts to smoke, add the meat and allow it to brown on each side.  This is a very important step as the browning of the meat will add a lot of flavor to your dish.  It should take about 15 minutes to brown the entire piece of meat. 

Once browned, remove the meat from the Dutch oven and set aside.  Add the carrots, celery, and onions to the Dutch oven and cook until soft, about 15 minutes. 

Using a slotted spoon, remove the shiitake mushrooms from the beef broth.  Cut the rehydrated shiitake mushrooms into slices and add the sliced mushrooms and garlic to the Dutch oven.  Cook for 1 more minute.  Add the beef broth  to the Dutch oven and using a wooden spoon scrape up any fond on the bottom of the pot.*

Add the wine and the brandy to the pot and bring back to a boil.  Add the tomatoes and their juices to the pot.  Using the back of a wooden spoon break the tomatoes into smaller pieces. 

Add your roast to the pan and nestle it into place.  The liquid should come about two-thirds of the way up the side of your meat in order to braise properly.  Using kitchen twine, tie together the thyme and rosemary sprigs.  Add that to the pot and bring everything back to a boil.

Once the liquid is boiling, cover the Dutch oven and move it to the oven.  Allow the roast to cook for 1 hour and 15 minutes.  Remove from the oven and flip the meat and then cook for another 1 hour and 15 minutes.

Remove the Dutch oven from the oven.  Using tongs, carefully remove the meat from the pot and place, covered with foil, on a cutting board while you prepare the sauce. 

If there is a lot of fat on top of the cooking liquid, skim it off and discard it.  Take the remaining cooking liquid and vegetables and pour a small amount into a blender or food processor.  Blend until almost smooth.  Working in small batches, add the remaining liquid and vegetables to the blender or food processor.  The blended vegetables will serve to thicken the sauce.  Season the sauce to taste with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Slice the meat thinly and serve with the sauce on top.  Enjoy!

*  If done properly, when you brown meat on the stove some of the meat will remain attached to the bottom of the pan.  Don’t think that you have done something incorrectly.  Those little brown, caramelized bits are called fond  and as a classmate of mine in culinary school said, “they are the goodies.”  The addition of wine, stock, or another liquid to a hot pan allows those bits to be scraped off the bottom of the pan.  Once off the pan, they become a delicious and flavorful part of your sauce!

Braising over an open flame

A couple of weeks ago we got together with some friends who are serious outdoor enthusiasts and went camping for the weekend.

Tarp City

The forecast called for rain, but that didn’t stop us. We had to purge a craving for braised short ribs cooked slowly over an open flame.

A few weeks previous I had gone to one of my favorite haunts, “The 3 Vets” outdoors store, and purchased a 7 quart (6.6 L) cast iron Dutch Oven and an iron tripod with a chain and a hook. We tested it first over on Galiano Island, at the Montague Harbour Marine Park campground. Turns out the secret is to build a very solid fire and to keep it going for several hours. Then, as it settles down to a bed of glowing orange coals, have a large supply of dry thin split kindling at the ready. The Dutch Oven does not like a lot of open flame right underneath. Using the kindling ensures that you can keep the fire at a constant temperature for hours on end. The cast iron of the pot ensures that it does not allow its internal temperate to fluctuate quickly; rather, it regulates the internal temperature perfectly, and is very forgiving when the fire is hotter or colder.

The morning we set off to camp, we set out early and travelled north towards Whistler Mountain. When we arrived at our site (a forestry campground next to a raging river) we quickly went about setting up what we commonly refer to now as “tarp city”, which is always fun, as it involves setting up multiple tarps at various angles, all designed to carry water away from the central fire, the tent area and the eating area at the picnic table. Setting up the tarps took over two hours, and at the end of the process we were soaked. But it didn’t matter – we build a fire approx. 3 feet in diameter, which was covered by a (very highly strung) tarp, so it was protected from the rain. As soon as the fire was going, clothes lines were strung to dry out all that was wet.

Next: bring out the chainsaws, axes and Japanese pull-saws. Another hour later we had a huge pile of firewood culled from the multitude of dead, totally dry trees in the vicinity. Time to uncork the wine.

A good short rib recipe we have found is from Vancouver chef Rob Feenie’s “Lumiere Light”. Delicious, and like many braise recipes, so simple once prep is complete. I can’t say enough about the Dutch Oven. It is one of the best foodie buys I’ve made in a long time. There is no doubt that it’s going to be used time and time again when camping. Both times we’ve used it, we were totally impressed by the results. Braise heaven.

The day wore into night, and after filling our bellies with braised short ribs over penne, we settled back to some French and Italian wines, huddled around a huge, bright warm fire, with the sound of rain on the tarps overhead and the raging river beside our spot. A lot of people I know think we’re crazy to camp so late in the fall. Thank god for finding some like-minded souls who appreciate how great the forest can be in a fall rain forest.

Coming at the end of a large family, I sometimes found items passed down to me that I wasn’t in a position to refuse. Like my older brother’s winter coat. Or my sister’s dresses. But there was one thing that I inherited that was the gift that kept giving. My sister’s rabbit, Mascara*.

Mascara was a second generation rabbit in my family, the offspring of one night of freedom of her mother, Sniffles*, from her rabbit hutch. Mascara and Sniffles were outdoor bunnies, living in hutches built by my dad divided into an indoor area and an outdoor mesh-floored area where we hoped they’d poop, operative word being hoped. A chicken-wired bunny run gave them a space to hop about without the same repercussions as Sniffles’ previous foray into the wilds of New Jersey. At some point, my older siblings figured out (and I still don’t understand how this combination was stumbled upon) that Mascara viewed my Eeyore stuffed animal doll as her arch enemy.

Have you ever heard a rabbit scream?

If not, count that among the things to be thankful for. If so, my condolences.

It is horrific. Loud beyond any proportion to the size creature making it, high pitched and nightmare inducing. That would be Mascara’s reaction to my Eeyore doll every time one  of my siblings would steal him from me to throw into the rabbit run with her. This banshee, this hater of Eeyore who didn’t like anyone picking her up, who shrieked like she had just sat down on a bed of hot coals covered in broken glass became my unwanted pet when my sister went off to college. Willie, an albino rabbit who somehow dropped into the bunny menagerie came to me from a brother three years later. These rabbits thrived on neglect. After my initial attempts to give them affection were unceremoniously rebuffed (Mascara clawed me), I saw them as a slightly smelly daily chore: dump food in one bowl, water in the other. I did not develop a love of rabbits until later years.

Rabbit in Mustard Sauce

a 2 1⁄2 – 3 lb rabbit, cleaned, cut into 6 or 8 parts

2 tbs. olive oil or a combination of oil and salt pork

2 tbs. butter

2 shallots, minced

1 medium onion, minced

2 cups dry white wine

1 cups stock (I used vegetable)

1/4 cup dijon mustard

a couple of twigs of fresh thyme

• Pat the bunny pieces dry then season with salt and pepper. Heat the oil up in a good, heavy pot that is large enough to fit all of the rabbit pieces in one layer. When the oil is hot, add the rabbit, being sure not to overcrowd the pan. It is important for the rabbit to have space during the browning period so you will have to do this in 2 or more batches.
• Brown the rabbit pieces on all sides and remove the pieces to a large bowl as they are browned. Don’t rush this process because the browning adds a nice flavor to the braise and also keeps the final dish from being a sea of yellow and beige. Set the bowl with the browned rabbit pieces to the side.
• Lower the heat under the pot you browned the rabbit in, then add the butter. Add onions and shallots, stirring until softened. Add the wine and boil until reduced by half. Return the rabbit to the pot, add stock and thyme and lower the heat. Cover the pot and simmer for 40 minutes.
• Once again, remove rabbit to a clean bowl. Reduce the remaining liquid in half, then stir in mustard. Return the rabbit to the sauce, turning to coat, and simmer until heated through. Eat the bunny.

*inherited with the critters were their names. At age 8 I would have probably named every rabbit Mr. Bun Bun. Actually, I think I still would.

I imagine I’ll end up saying this a few too many times, but: braise.  There’s nothing, save a big pot of soup, that is more comforting to me in cold, wet weather than the aroma and depth of a long, slow braise on a pot simmering in the oven or sitting on the stove.  We’re in the process of picking up a dutch oven on the cheap,  but shipping issues will delay its BK debut for at least another week.  However, our little saucepan has been working its ass off, turning out some excellent dishes.

After we conquered the pork braise, essentially a recipe I was familiar with, I wanted to do something I’d never done before.  I was flipping through another great cookbook, really a farming/cooking book called The River Cottage Cookbook by a British chef named Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall.  He has a recipe for Ivan’s Neck of Lamb that sounded like something both simple and delicious (and cheap) enough to try out.  I changed it slightly, but it is a very basic recipe in any form…not so much a recipe as such, but a guideline for how to braise anything, particularly some neck o’ lamb.  Pairing it with some hearty vegetables and creamed smashed potatoes gave us one seriously hearty meal.

Y’Need:

2 lbs Neck of Lamb, cut into 1-inch thick (or so) rounds (have your butcher do this)

2 onions (or an equivalent amount/mix of shallots, leeks, and onions), diced

2 cloves garlic, diced

2 lemons, juice of

Few sprigs of thyme

Bay leaf

Splash Red Wine

Water to cover

Salt/Pepper

1/8 tsp. Fennel Seed (optional)

Y’Do:

Season the lamb’s neck with salt and pepper and sear them in a hot pan (preferable your braise pot) until browned all over.  Remove, add a little oil if necessary, and toss in your diced onion-family medley (I used 2 shallots, 2 small leeks, and an onion).  Let those sweat for a couple minutes and add your garlic, diced.  Cook for a couple minutes more, deglaze with the red wine, and add the lamb back to the pot.  Add the thyme, fennel, lemon juice, bay leaf, and water or stock to cover (or nearly cover) the lamb, and season everything to just under taste (a little less salt than might be perfect).  Bring the liquid to a boil, then turn down to barely a simmer.  Let sit until lamb is very tender and nearly falling off the bone (depending on size of necks, anywhere from 1 1/2 to 2 1/2 hours).  If the liquid does not cover the lamb completely, I find it helps to turn the pieces over once, about halfway through the cooking time.

When the lamb is done, remove it from the pot.  You can simmer the juices a bit more to reduce them, and add some seasoning if needed.  Add a touch of salt and pepper to the lamb.  Be sure to bring the braising liquid to the table…dipping good bread it in may be the best part of this dish.

For the potatoes, I simply boiled some small potatoes with garlic and rosemary until done (pierceable with fork or knife).  I strained them and let them cool (I had the time, but you don’t have to.  In a saute pan I cooked some diced leek and carrot until softened, then added the potatoes, some butter and cream, and let it all heat together, seasoning as needed with salt and plenty of black pepper.  Seasoned with some salt and pepper, the leek’s flavor and the sweetness of the carrots were great inside the creamy, peppery potatoes.

A slight variation on this would include adding either some cumin or red pepper flakes, which would add great spice.  I wanted to taste the neck simply, as it was my first time eating lamb’s neck, but I think I’d add some heat next time around.

It’s occurred to me that I haven’t given you a recipe yet. I’m not really into precise measurements or detailed step by step method so forgive me if my approach is a bit lax.

I tend to use recipes simply for inspiration. Other times to refresh my memory before heading to the shops to source ingredients for a specific dish. A quick peek online often reminds me of a key seasoning or ingredient that I would otherwise have forgotten.

I am luckily enough to live in Clapton. A typically multicultural London suburb awash with Turkish and Halal butchers and grocers. I’ve been buying my vegetables, mutton, lamb and chicken from these places ever since I became a resident. They’re great value and the meat is as good, if not better than any family butcher anywhere in the country. 

I had some friends over for dinner a few weeks ago. Finally, the excuse to cook one of the big joints of mutton that have been tempting me recently. A quick wander up to Paradise Halal Butchers on Lower Clapton Road, £15 later and this was on my block seasoned and ready for the oven.

Shoulder or leg of mutton is a very old and well used bit of kit. It’s got a much deeper and more gamey flavour compared to lamb but will be tough if it’s not cooked for long enough. 

You’ll notice the fat had been trimmed from my joint, Shame. With the fat left on you can simply season it and wack it in a slow oven. Once it’s roasted you’re graced with the added benefit of ‘crispy bits’.

Due to the lack of protective fat I had to be careful not to dry out the meat so I chose to braise it in some liquid.

Slow Braised Mutton with Puy Lentils

Serves 6 (there were 4 of us)

• 1 leg or shoulder of mutton. About 2Kg.
• 1 bottle dry white wine
• 1 cup puy lentils – rinsed
• 1 large carrot – diced
• 2 sticks celery – diced
• 1 large onion – diced
• 1 bulb garlic sliced horizontally
• 1 bunch thyme
• 3 Tbsp finely chopped parsley stalks
• 3 bay leaves
• 10 cherry tomatoes
• 1 bunch spinach
• 1 litre stock or water

Gremolata

Finely chop and mix parsley, garlic and lemon zest.

• 4 tbsp very finely chopped parsley
• 2 tbsp very finely chopped garlic
• 2 tsp very finely chopped lemon zest

Pre heat the oven to 140C and ensure the mutton is at room temperature .

Season the meat well with salt and pepper, brush over some oil and brown in a large heavy pan. Remove the mutton, deglaze the pan with the wine and leave to simmer.

Place the lentils, herbs and all the vegetables aside from the spinach in a large baking dish. Lay the mutton on top of the vegetables and pour over the wine. Add some more water or stock to cover the vegetables by a few centimeters and cover completely with foil.

Braise for 4-6 hours basting every hour and adding more stock or water if necessary. Remove from the oven and check the meat. It should be very tender. If it’s not then return it until it is!

Take off the foil and turn the oven up to 180C. Roast uncovered for final 45 minutes basting every 10 minutes to glaze the meat and thicken the sauce. 

In a pan wilt the spinach and drain off the excess water. Remove the mutton from the oven and adjust the sauce by either reducing it or adding more stock to get the consistency you want. Add the spinach and check for seasoning.

Serve at the table topped with some Gremolata

To finish we had an apple and gooseberry crumble with a bottle of Double Vision 7.4% Cider. Steve and Helene had come straight from a Kentish apple festival with gifts.. Thanks!

Funthyme