Finest Stew

Presently, preoccupations abound, and for the past week the kitchen has been used sparely. I think I saw some dust gathering the other day.

It might have been pepper.

Autumn arrived yesterday night. As I got to sleep a wind blew through the trees and shook them and whistled against the house. This was a serious wind, one to remind a person there is an outside beyond his walls, and in it there are foreign things that pop out there in the night, in the dark.

Similarly, as days cool and the sun sets sooner, we're reminded of meats and sauces, the substantial foods that burn in our bellies all night to keep us warm under the covers...or so it seems. Appropriately, two nights ago I had the pleasure of enjoying a hefty portion Juila Child's recipe for Boeuff Bourguignon, which had been prepared in a dutch oven purchased expressly for this meal--on this and future occasions, I hope.

Photo Credit: Sylvia

The recipe is a traditional one using a wine from the French region of Burgundy, whose dialect and cuisine are Burgundian, or bourguignon in French. I have never made it, but a quick look at the recipe's length mirrors the time consuming duration of its preparation. As I understand it, this excellent stew established itself as de rigeur at American dinner parties, for which, expectedly, popular cookbooks cultivated more convenient methods. In some cases it became simply "Beef Burgundy," which called for marinating the meat in wine overnight and then browning it, simmering it and serving it with canned vegetables. In her book Can She Bake a Cherry Pie?, Mary Drake McFeely reports that

Worse was in store. Another recipe turned up in community cookbooks of the seventies and eighties, a heresy with only five ingredients: beef, a can of cream of mushroom soup, a miserly half cup of red wine, an envelope of Lipton Onion Soup, and a four-ounce can of mushrooms! "Mix soup, onion soup mix, mushrooms and wine and stir well," advised one good neighbor in Dover, New Hampshire. "Add to meat and coat all pieces well. Put in covered casserole and bake in 300 degree oven for 3 hours. DO NOT PEEK!" Presumably it's not best to look until this gummy-sounding mixture has coagulated beyond recognition.

Thankfully, those who prepared Boeuf Bourguignon for us favored authenticity over convenience. After hours of heat between the stove and oven, thick chunks of stweing beef broke easily under the fork -- the grains of the soft meat swollen with juice -- and layers of little onion globes slid apart. Served over pasta and with bread to soak up the wine-rich juices, it was delicious. When I have four hours to spare, which is apparently how long this stuff takes, I intend to make it for myself. (And for others.) Perhaps complemented with steamed asparagus, too.

Yum.