The
Clue to Stew
To
make a stew is to experience the limits as well as the glories of moist,
slow cooking. The
glory, of course, is the payoff that comes with patience. Given careful
assembly and time, the flavours within a slowly simmered dish meld and
transpose, each ingredient becoming more of itself and less, as it
becomes part of the whole. Rare is the culture that doesn’t have a
stew whose flavours epitomize its soul. Doesn’t boeuf a la
bourguignonne say France on a cold afternoon? Doesn’t osso bucco say
Italy? And
then there is us with our cans of beef stew, our steam tables and our
crock-pots. Fortunately, as a culture, we believe, that with effort,
anything can be revised and redeemed. In the case of stew, this is a
profoundly appealing idea. Canned
stew, cafeteria stew, the stuff that simmers unattended all day long in
a crock-pot, embodies the limits of moist cooking. Whether its wine,
water, or broth that the meat is cooking in doesn’t matter. No
caramelizing will take place unless a browning technique is used.
Without it, the meat will simply relax into paler and paler shades of
grey. Of
course, you can sauté the meat in a variety of mediums – butter,
lard, pan drippings, bacon fat, olive oil – but each will render a
different sort of stew. Bacon, for instance, will insure a much heavier
result than olive oil, while butter is the best way to start a stew that
you’re planning to finish with cream. It is also advisable that before
you sauté you lightly dust the meat in flour. The meat will brown
better and the flour will thicken the stew. Now,
the sooner the reconciliation of disparate flavours begins, the more
sustained and resonant the final effect. Ultimately, a stew is a hefty
dish, but it needs a foundation on which to build. Most recipes rely on
the sweetness of caramelized onions and carrots. I like to brown them in
the same medium used for the meat but in a different pan, reserving the
first pan, with its traces of flour, for an eventual deglazing
operation. There
is also a need for some acidity that will both emphasize and balance the
meaty taste. Traditional recipes call for the addition of tomatoes,
wine, vinegar, or mustard – all of which do the trick. For a more
subtle and intense complexity, I’ve been known to add a couple of
teaspoons of diced anchovies to the pot after browning the carrots and
onions. The saltiness of the anchovies enhances both the tomato –
which I’ll add late in the cooking – and the dash of lemon included
when the stew is through. The anchovies give the stew a husky
Mediterranean flavour. Other aromatics like garlic, black olive paste,
Thai peanut sauce or grated ginger are also possible. But each calls for
a different decision about liquids and seasonings. You
must never forget that in a stew each flavour is lonely without its
opposite. Just as a rich chunk of meat tastes better with a dash of
something acid, the sweetness of carrots and onions can be underscored
by the woodsy, buttery flavour of a mushroom. The mushiness that can be
the bane of a stew becomes half of its glory if something that crunches
– a vegetable less cooked than the meat say, provides a counterpoint.
A final garnish of lemon, oregano, parsley or even basil will flatter
the very cooked nature of stew, adding a lightness to a dark and wintry
meal. Employing
stock or broth is, to me, a given. The flavour of most of the meat grown
by modern methods – particularly the lean cuts that are popular today
– is simply not distinct enough to carry a stew alone. A veal or dark
beef broth gives a sort of supple muscle to the flavour of the final
dish; it is also a richer conduit for all the flavours. And
in essence that is what stew is, a conduit for flavours. If you master
the technique of layering one flavour on top of another, you will be
liberated from the notion that a stew is too prosaic a dish for company.
You friends will gather. Beef
Stew with Black Olives Serves
8 ¼
cup olive oil 3
medium yellow onions, minced 3
medium carrots, minced 2
cloves garlic, minced 4
anchovy fillets, minced 1
tablespoon tomato paste sea
salt and fresh black pepper to taste 1
cup flour 5
pounds stewing beef, cut into 1 ½ inch chunks 1
cup red wine 4
cups beef broth ¼
cup oil cured black olives, pitted and cut into quarters 1
fresh ripe tomato, coarsely chopped 2
tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley 1
teaspoon fresh lemon juice 1)
In a heavy casserole warm half the olive oil. Add the onions,
carrots and garlic and cook until the onions are tender and gold, about
7 minutes. Add the anchovy fillets and tomato paste, stir and continue
to cook for 2 minutes. Remove from heat, taste and season with a little
salt and pepper. 2)
Place the remaining oil in a heavy skillet over medium heat. Dust
the beef with flour and cook in batches, to avoid overcrowding, until
the beef is nicely browned. Drain off as much of the oil as possible. 3)
Return the meat to the heat and add wine. Scrape to incorporate
any small bits of meat left in the pan and cook for 5 minutes. Add the
broth and the vegetables. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, stirring
occasionally for 2 hours. Add more broth or wine should the stew begin
to dry. 4)
In a small bowl, combine the black olives, tomato, parsley and
lemon juice and stir well. Season lightly with salt and pepper. Serve
the stew topped with a spoonful of the olive mixture and noodles on the
side. |
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