Showing posts with label polenta. Show all posts
Showing posts with label polenta. Show all posts

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Osso Bucco


Veal Shank
 If you don't like the idea of killing baby cows, then go ahead and X out of this post now.  This is not a posting for vegetarians or politically correct carnivores.  This is osso bucco--a stew made from veal shanks, or dead baby cow.  Try to forget images of soulful brown eyes and plaintive bleating on the way to the slaughter.  The folks from PETA would hate this recipe, but then, they don't know how good it tastes.  In Italian, osso bucco literally means bone with a hole in it, but it could just as easily mean "how did I live this long and never experience this?" The shank is a donut-shaped bone from the calf's lower leg; it is surrounded by tender succulent meat, at least that's how it gets when you slow cook it for hours in wine, sherry, and broth.  Inside the donut hole rests an amazing dollop of bone marrow, which--once you forget that it's bone marrow tastes like the little piece of heaven that it is.

Osso Bucco is the one dish that once prompted my husband to eat a full dinner twice.  As I recall, he had come back from some evening gathering, and I asked in my ubiquitously-wifey manner:

"How was your meeting?"

"They served osso bucco."

"But you already ate dinner."

"But it was osso bucco."

"Oh my God, you had TWO dinners!" [read: you gluttonous pig].

Says husband, nodding in shared disbelief, "But it was osso bucco."

When I thought about it--he was right.  Osso bucco is worth it.  Just don't think about the baby cows.

Osso Bucco
 By Todd English

1.     Lightly dust four large veal shanks with a mixture of salt, pepper, and flour.  TIP:  If you pat the shanks dry with a clean towel first they will brown better.  Moisture on any meat thwarts this browning process.

2.     In a large dutch over or saute pot, heat approximately two Tbs of olive oil on medium high heat.  Add the veal shanks and cook until they are golden brown--about 5 minutes on one side and two minutes on the other.  Set the shanks aside.

3.  Add one cup of chopped raw bacon to the pan, and cook until it begins to render its fat--about 2 minutes.  Add 6 cloves of thinly sliced garlic.

4.    Dice the following: 1 sweet Mayan or Vidalia onion, 2 large peeled carrots, 3 celery stalks , 2 leeks (white part only), 2 cups shitake mushrooms,.  Add it to mixture.

5.  Add 2 Tbs fresh rosemary, 1 tsp fennel seeds, and 1/2 tsp pepper flakes.  Stir to thoroughly mix.

6.  Return the shanks to the pan and add 3/4 cup dry white wine and  1/2 cup dry Sherry.  Cook 5 minutes.

7.  Add 4 cups of low sodium chicken broth, the zest of one orange.  Bring to a low simmer.

8.  Roast at 425 degrees for 2 hours.

9.  Transfer the shanks to a plate and return the pan to medium high heat.  Add 2 Tbs Dijon mustard and simmer for 10 minutes.  Return the shanks to th pan and cook until heated through; garnish with fresh parsley.

10.  Serve with hot polenta, a full bodied cabernet, and good friends who have no compunction about dining on cute little farm animals.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Great Expectations

My daughter made dinner last week.  This is not any kind of a remarkable feat.  She is, afterall, 13 years old and has mastered the only skill truly required to cook:  she can read.  Still.  It seems like it was 20 minutes ago that I was making airplane noises while I scraped pureed peas off of her lower lower lip with a plastic-coated spoon.  What the hell happened?  Apparently children grow up without your permission.  Who knew?

It didn't help that she pulled my volume of Julia Child off the shelf and decided to make supreme de volaille archiduc.  Really?  Chicken breast sauteed in onions and paprika in a Madeira-cream reduction sauce?  I had figured when I gave her the green light to cook dinner that we'd be dining on Cap'n Crunch.  Of course, as I gingerly turned over about $15 worth of chicken breast, I realized that we still might.  Indeed, I had visions that this poor chicken was destined to make a charred journey from shrink wrap-to stove-to trash.  Secretly, I wondered if I had any meat sauce stashed in the freezer that I could pull out after what I was sure would be a chicken cremation. 


I was mistaken.  The dish was everything you would expect of chicken breasts sauteed in butter and then slathered with heavy cream and booze.  It was amazing.  Eating my words never tasted so good.  My daughter had the whole family practically licking every morsel and drop of it off the plate with our tongues.  

I have often observed that the secret of successful parenting is to simply lower your expectations.  It seems, however, that the real joy of parenting is watching your children exceed them.


Supreme de Volaille Archiduc (something in French)
By Julia Child

1.   Rub 4 boneless chicken breasts with fresh lemon juice and sprinkle with salt and pepper.

2.  Finely mince one medium sized onion (about 2/3 cup).  Drop the minced onion into boiling water for 1 minute; drain, run cold water over them, and drain again.  This technique lets you quickly soften the onion, but by pouring cold water over the hot onions, you stop them from continuing to cook.

3.  Heat 4 Tbsp of butter in a large saute pan until foaming and add the blanched onion and 1 Tb of  red paprika.  Cook the onions over very low heat for about 10 minutes.  Low heat here is critical.  Butter burns really quickly;  if your pan is too hot you can turn your back for a minute and wind up with a black slurry.

4.  
 Add the chicken breasts and saute until they are slightly golden. 

5.  Move them to a casserole dish and finish them in an oven pre-heated to 400 degrees, about 20-30 minutes.  Julia Child claims that the meat is done when it "is springy to the touch"--whatever that means.  I have to either stick a meat thermometer in it or cut it open peak inside, a fact of which I am not particularly proud, but which I passed down to my daughter.   

6.   Pour into the now emptied pan that you used to saute the chicken, 1/4 cup beef broth, 1/4 cup port, Madeira, or dry white vermouth.  We  used Madeira.

7.  Add 1 cup heavy cream.  Yeah, baby, yeah.  This recipe tastes amazing for a reason.

8.  Add back in the reserved onion and paprika mixture.

9.  Stir the sauce constantly over high heat until the cream boils down and slightly thickens.  Season to taste with lemon, salt, and pepper.

10.  Serve the sauce over the now fully cooked chicken breast and garnish with parsley.  Pair it with anything that will absorb the sauce:  risotto, potatoes, polenta and a fresh green, such as those frozen green peas that languish for months in the back of your freezer.
11.  Ask your daughter when she's making it again.