Christmas Day and we had two guests joining us for a prime rib dinner. Accompaniments included Yorkshire pudding made right in the roasting pan while the meat rested, fresh buttered green beans, mashed potatoes and pan gravy. We also had, as we do each year, jellied canned cranberry sauce – the kind that looks like burgundy dog food when you slide it out of the can. I have always loved this and prefer it to those homemade whole berry relishes that people have with their holiday meals nowadays. Maybe this has something to do with my dislike of berries, which might be traced back to my childhood. My parents loved to pick berries, and I hated it. I avoided going on drives with them during the summer unless there was a specific destination in mind, because they would inevitably make a pit stop when they spied wild berry bushes by the side of the road. I would stay in the car and roast in the heat rather than chance being accosted by stinging bugs, which I was terrified of. I certainly don’t mind homemade cranberry sauce as long as it is jellied or aspiced, is served cold and has no whole cranberries in it — but this kind hasn’t shown up with a holiday dinner guest since 1972. I made plenty of Yorkshire pudding, spooning out beef fat from the roasting pan into two loaf pans so I would have two small extra ones in case the large one didn’t suffice.
Tag Archives: meat
Beef burgundy
I broke out the pressure cooker and made beef stew. I’ve always been somewhat afraid of pressure cookers. My mother used one all the time, and it was a first-generation jiggle-top, to boot, but I don’t remember her standing around wondering if the thing was going to blow up. I think I need to use this more often to feel confident. It’s a second-generation cooker with a spring-valve and pop-up pressure indicator that has several safety features not found on first-generation jiggle-tops, like a secondary valve system to release pressure if it builds beyond a certain point. Apparently this newer technology was invented by Kuhn-Rikon in Switzerland in 1949, but only introduced in the US in 1990. Speaks volumes, nicht wahr? If you are still using an old jiggle-top, by all means get one of these modern European jobs. If you never had a pressure cooker at all, you are in for a real treat. For example, if you toss in three pounds of beef stew meat with a little water and a goodly amount of red wine (you generally need a minimum of a cup of liquid, but make sure you check the requirement for your particular model) along with fresh thyme, sautéed onion and garlic plus salt and pepper, you’ll have fork-tender meat that’s a little like beef burgundy in about 20 minutes at 15 psi. Add the time you need to build up to that pressure and the time to allow it to release naturally, and you are looking at something like an hour. Thicken the sauce and serve over rice. Words of warning: you can fill these things to the 2/3 level only, so don’t get a small one or you’ll be sorry. I think everyone in the house gets killed if you fill it up beyond 2/3.
Europa in Orinda
Matthew and I drove over the hill to Orinda today. Orinda is an upscale little city a bit deeper into Contra Costa County that I have always heard good things about. We thought we’d check out the food situation there. The drive was nice, if a bit hair-raising. I hate driving on freeways and try to avoid tunnels and bridges, so we took windy, country roads that permeate the East Bay Regional Park District. The area we drove through is so beautiful and so unspoiled, it was hard to believe we were only a few miles from cities right near the Bay Bridge. Driving that high-elevation route with its two-lane roads in the dark or in rainy weather might have you sleeping with the fishes, if you ask me. Orinda is attractive and quiet with a small downtown with an old theatre and some shops and restaurants. Strangely enough, there was a Hofbrau, called Europa (64 Moraga Way, Orinda). We were hungry so we ate there, and I have to say it was fine, but not as good as Harry’s Hofbrau (any of the locations) and perhaps on par with Brennan’s in Berkeley, but certainly not worth a special trip if you live on our side of the hill. There was good turkey, which is essential, as well as decent turkey gravy and mashed potatoes. Matt had a Reuben, which was generous and tasty, he reported. We were kind of bummed because we wanted something more interesting than Hofbrau, but, not knowing the town and seeing little obvious choice, we suffered from not doing our homework.
Burgers at Pear Street Bistro in Pinole
Reporting that Pear Street Bistro has good burgers. On 5/25/07 I wrote favorably about lunch at Pear Street Bistro in Pinole. Today Matt and I went back to investigate the hamburger situation and are happy to let you know that you should not hesitate to order said ground beast sandwich. They call it a ‘Bistro Burger’ and it is not of the hoi polloi variety, meaning it has a bunch of stuff you won’t find at Big Al’s in Albany, like caramelized onion. You may get it however you like, though, since Pear Street Bistro aims to please. What is important here is that the meat is high-quality and has enough fat to give it great mouth-feel and flavor. Toppings are your own affair. $13 with fries and worth it.
Braised beef shanks
Yes, I braised the beef shanks I talked about yesterday. This is an easy recipe. As long as you have shanks, canola oil, a decent acid, some aromatics and salt and pepper, the rest is gravy.
This is something you make by feel. Really, it is very hard to mess this one up unless you make it too salty, so take care with salt or salty ingredients. Start with fresh beef shanks, sliced or not. Salt and pepper them. Brown all sides in a large, heavy, oven-proof pot with a little canola oil. Make sure the pot is good and hot when you add the meat. Add some aromatics, such as onion, celery root and garlic. Peel and cut into rough slices. The garlic may be tossed in without chopping. Feel free to brown the aromatics, but I did not do so here. Whatever does not dissolve into the braise may be fished out and discarded, as you prefer, at the end of the cooking process. Add some flavorful liquids, including at least one acid. I used soy sauce, red wine, beef stock and a can of tomatoes. Use ratios that make sense; clearly you want more stock and wine than you do soy sauce. Add enough liquids to just cover the shanks, but you do not want them lost at sea. Add a little dried thyme or something similar, like marjoram, if you have it. Dried herbs are perfect for a braise since they have plenty of time to release their flavors, so don’t bother wasting money on fresh herbs for this recipe. A small handful of dried mushrooms works well at this point, in case you have some on hand. If not, don’t bother. Bring this mass to a boil, then cover and place in preheated 325 degree F. oven for a good 2 1/2 hours – more if your shanks are not sliced. You may also braise them, covered, on the burner if you must — like if your oven is broken or you use it as storage — in which case you should maintain a low simmer for aboutthe same amount of time. Just check them every now and again so they don’t burn. The braise will look thin and pale for the first hour or so, but don’t worry as it will develop color and body as it cooks. The finished product should be fall-off-the-bone-tender, but not mushy.
Serve as is, or use a hand blender to homogenize the sauce, but be sure to serve with something that makes full use of the sauce, like potatoes or a good bread.