Another filthy day, which seemed to call for comfort food: I realised that I had everything that I needed readily to hand, and that - with cold, dark, dreary, miserable weather outside, an afternoon and evening of gentle cooking would not only, not go amiss, but would be a perfect, positive and exceedingly pleasurable way in which to pass the day (and evening).
Tonight, I dined on my current interpretation of a Belgian (and/or Flemish) classic: Beef Carbonnades, or Carbonnade Flamade.
Like any braised beef dish, - especially this one, as I used shin of beef - this is not a dish that one can cook in a hurry, or when rushed, for it is a dish that calls for lots and lots of time, in the preparation (ignore those mendacious recipes that tell you that the prep takes "20 minutes"; they are lying - softly sautéing the onions alone takes twenty minutes, while browning the beef - in batches - takes even longer), and in the cooking.
However, once en route, this is a forgiving and flexible dish, and, when served, it is a perfect dish for winter, warming, soothing, rib-sticking, rich in flavour and delicious when devoured.
In essence, this is a beef stew - or, if Mark Twain could describe cauliflower as cabbage with a college education (a quote I have always loved) - then, - one can argue that a casserole is simply a stew with academic aspirations.
In any case, this is a beef stew where the beef is braised in stock, along with copious quantities of onions, garlic, some robust - for which read, strong - beer (Belgian for preference and for authenticity, although I will readily sacrifice authenticity for taste and convenience at need), carrots, (which seem to be optional, but which work well with this recipe), brown sugar and/or redcurrant jelly, along with something tart such as sherry vinegar.
Some may also choose to add Dijon mustard, but personally, I don't think it necessary - mustard can be a bit of a bully in such a dish, and my experience is that the mustard may overpower the other (glorious) flavours if used other than very sparingly. Unfortunately, moderation is not my middle name when faced with ingredients that confer robust flavours on a dish.
For the beef, many recipes suggest using what Americans refer to as "chuck steak"; now, this is not a term used This Side of the Pond, - rather, what tends to be recommended is what is described as "stewing beef" (which online sources suggest is similar to"chuck steak").
However, ever since I discovered the culinary delights of shin of beef on the bone, (a number of years ago), I have used nothing else when preparing a beef stew, or casserole. Shin of beef is not something readily obtained - I usually have to place an order for it in advance, - but, as it happened, the last time I visited the farmers' market (and the organic meat stall), knowing my preference for shin beef, the vendor mentioned that they just happened to have some with them, adding, disingenuously, "no pressure". Needless to say, I succumbed immediately and bought it.
This is not an expensive cut, - and, with the collagen, bone and bone marrow it is delicious when cooked slowly - but it does take considerably longer to cook than most other cuts, even most other stewing style cuts.
Today, I started by cutting the shin of beef into large pieces, and browned them - leaving plenty of space between the individual pieces of meat, and not crowding the pan, - in a stainless steel Italian sauté pan, in a mix of some olive oil and a lot of butter. This took several batches, and, as each was ready, it was transported (via slotted spoon) to a large, heavy, French copper saucepan, one to which I have a sturdy lid.
Next, a roughly chopped carrot was sautéed in the sauté pan, and added to the copper casserole; in turn, this was followed by several onions - chopped roughly - which were allowed to sauté, soften and caramelise a little in the sauté pan, whereupon six, fine, fat cloves of garlic - roughly chopped - joined the onions. This lot were emptied (along with the glorious scrapings at the bottom of the sauté pan) into the copper saucepan.
Stock (chicken, rather than beef, as I lack the latter) found its way into the copper casserole, as did several sprigs of thyme, some black pepper, a generous dessert spoon (or two) of Xerez sherry vinegar, two dessertspoons of brown sugar and two of redcurrant jelly, and, finally, the sauté pan was deglazed with some Belgian beer - its contents then emptied into the copper casserole, the remainder of the bottle of beer following, being poured straight into the copper saucepan; for this, I used a bottle of St Bernardus Abt 12.
That lot were set to simmer - at a slow boil - for three and a half hours on the stove top, (it would be closer to five in the oven) the (happily quite heavy and surprisingly sturdy copper) lid replaced on the copper saucepan, and checked - and stirred - roughly every half an hour to 40 minutes, to ensure that sufficient liquid remained, and that nothing was sticking to the bottom of the saucepan. By the time it was ready, (to serve and to eat) the shin beef was so soft that it could easily cut with a spoon, and was moist and tender.
This dish is traditionally served with chips (i.e. French fries, frites), fried potatoes, roasted potatoes, or mashed potatoes, and sometimes with a serving of redcurrant jelly, or applesauce on the side.
Thus, tonight, rather than the classic frites (French fries), I decided to serve mashed potato with this (adding the stock from the potatoes, when I drained them, into the beef casserole, in case the liquid - which is one of the glories of this dish - was running low); thus, the main side dish was mashed potato, - which came with plenty of finely diced parsley, and finely chopped scallions (French onions), not to mention an exceedingly generous hand with, or copious quantities of, butter.
And, also, applesauce, or, to be more precise, what I would describe as autumnal - even though winter is now upon us - seasonal sauce, was served: In the Italian sauté pan, butter (tonight's dinner was, in fact, a veritable ode to butter) - yes, generous quantities - were melted, and (organic) brown sugar - a few dessertspoons - was added, and allowed to blend and meld with the melted butter; then, a quince, (I love the sweet and tart texture and taste of quince, they have a short season, and, unlike both apples and pears must be cooked, for, they cannot be consumed raw, but they are superb when served with apples), two large cooking apples (I love their tartness), and a pear, slippy and dripping with juice - were all peeled and cored and chopped into very large chunks - whereupon they were added to the sauté pan, and allowed to simmer away until soft (and ready), which takes longer than one might think.
An utterly divine repast, - I decided to open a Belgian beer (St Bernardus, naturally) to sip and savour with dinner.