Beef Stew

Of all the things I’ve filed under “stews”, this fits the bill most squarely. In fact, this recipe is more of a technique or template than any of the others. I’ve written about fricasees, which is basically a stewed meat with a sauce, and several other dishes which are not really stews but involve similar principles or techniques. A real stew, in my book, should be closely related to a soup, but thicker. It sits in a bowl, you eat it with a spoon, and ideally soak it up with some bread. It’s hearty, and warms you as you eat it. Because the long, gentle cooking technique blends flavors together, you need to use ingredients that have some heft and are going to retain some of their individual identities, rather than disappearing – things like beef, mushrooms, potatoes.

Generally, when you cook something low and slow, you’re talking about tougher, less prime cuts. That’s why an old rooster is the bird of choice for coq au vin, why short ribs need a good long braise, and why beef stew meat is usually taken from the tougher, fattier cuts of the cow. You can usually buy pre-diced beef stew meat, and this is probably a hodge-podge of usable scrap from a variety of cuts. If your meat market is reputable, go for this and save yourself some time.

Something like this is tricky territory – usable scrap can go either way. For instance, let’s say you’re a fishmonger. A beautiful, gleaming fresh side of swordfish comes in and then when you start to break it down into steaks and filets, it turns out it’s full of worms. Do you throw the whole thing out? No, you trim and you trim until you get rid of all the worms, throwing out as little as possible. You can’t sell it as a filet anymore, because you’ve hacked it up, but you can still cube what remains, thread it on to a skewer with alternating onion and green pepper slices and sell it as kebabs. That’s why I generally steer clear of fish kebabs and fish pâtés. With beef stew meat, it’s possible they’re trimming the ends off other fucked up cuts, but it’s just as likely that it’s the best thing to do with certain cuts. Chuck, in particular, which comes from the front end of the cow, basically its upper forelegs and shoulders, is usually cubed or ground specifically because it’s a tougher cut. If you’re going to cube your own, it’s a good idea to get chuck or bottom round. If you get a lean cut, it actually won’t work as well and could end up pretty tough – or alternatively, turn to mush. You want meat that is streaked with other things besides meat – not just fat, but the tougher tissues as well. These won’t break down if the meat is cooked quickly, over higher heat like in a stir fry or on the grill, but they do wonderfully if cooked over a long period of time and with very low heat. They break down eventually, the gelatinous materials they contain melting into the whole, adding body and richness to your liquid, and the tougher meat holds up so that they’ve still got some bite and don’t turn into mush.

The basic formula here will work for almost endless variations: cook the meat at high temperature in the pot, developing a nice sear on all sides, remove the meat and add flour, cook the roux for a few minutes then add your aromatic vegetables, add your stock back in along with the meat and seasons, and simmer for a long time. The thickness is achieved principally from the roux, but also from a good quality stock reducing. I also smash a few of the potatoes against the side of the pot, which will help things thicken up as well.

I like to mince up the celery and carrots, since they disappear that way and I prefer it. Some people like big chunks of carrots, or even stranger, celery in their stew, so if that’s you, go for it. But if you’re like me and don’t really like to eat carrots or celery that way, mince them and they’ll melt into it.

Finally, the stock: yes, ideally you will use beef stock for this. But I rarely make beef stock, and tend to have chicken stock much more readily available. Yes, the beef stock is richer and will keep things more synchronous, but a homemade chicken stock is far preferable to a boxed or canned beef stock for this recipe.

Ingredients:

• 2 TBS grapeseed oil (or similar high heat oil)
• 2 pounds beef stew meat, cut into 1-inch cubes
• 1 slice of thick-cut bacon, minced
• 1 large onion, diced
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 carrots, grated or minced
• 2 stalks of celery, minced
• ¼ cup dry white wine or vermouth
• 8 oz button or crimini mushrooms, stems trimmed but not removed, quartered
• ¼ cup Wondra
• 1.5 pounds red potatoes, cut into ½-inch cubes, or same amount of baby potatoes, halved or quartered.
• 6-8 cups chicken or beef stock
• Small bunch of fresh thyme and 1 TBS dried
• 1 TBS dried oregano
• 1 tsp dried sage
• ¼ cup fresh parsley, minced plus small bunch of parsley stems
• 1 tsp dried red pepper flakes
• 2 TBS butter
• Salt and pepper

Directions:

Start by laying out all of your beef on the cutting board. Remove any large chunks of fat or cartilage, if any. Don’t go crazy with this, just get rid of any large pieces that are easily removed. Then rain salt and pepper all over the beef, flip each piece over, and repeat, so it’s aggressively seasoned on all sides.

Film the bottom of a large, heavy-bottomed pot or dutch oven and turn the heat to very high. Wait till the pan is screaming hot. Working in batches if necessary, add the beef to the pan, spreading it out so that it’s in one layer. Don’t stack it up – this won’t allow it to sear and just steam half-heartedly. Once you’ve laid the beef in, don’t touch it for about a minute. Lift one piece and check the sear. It should have a deep brown, chocolaty color, and should lift easily from the bottom of the pan. If that’s the case, start flipping all of them. You don’t need to be scientific about it – they’re not meatballs – so just start stirring vigorously with a wooden spoon and they’ll begin flipping over, and then flip any that don’t go over individually.

Once they’ve been tossed around a bit, let them go for another minute with out touching them, then move them around again. You want every side to get some time touching the bottom of the pot, but you don’t need to go crazy making sure every face of the cube has a good sear on it. Plus, by now they’ve started to release their fat and liquid, and you’re not going to be able to get the same kind of sear. So after the first two initial sears, cook at the same high heat (adjust it if it’s just out of control and things are starting to burn) for another 2-3 minutes. At that point, using a slotted spoon or tongs, remove the beef to a bowl, so that you’re able to collect the juices.

If you’ve been using really fatty beef, and have a ridiculous amount in the bottom of your pot, you’ll have to drain some off. You want there to be about 3 TBS of fat in the bottom of your pan. You’re about to add a little bacon, so you’re going to have a little more too, and this is really the last chance you’ll have to get rid of any fat.

Add the onions, garlic, celery, carrots, mushrooms, and bacon. Keeping the heat very high, but not letting the onions brown too much, cook for about 5 minutes until everything is softened and has sweated away most of its liquid. You shouldn’t need to add any salt or pepper yet, since the beef cubes will have left behind a fair amount. You want to be careful of that, since there is an unknown amount of salt in your pot, you don’t want to start adding more until you’ve put your liquid in and reduced it some. Then you can evaluate and season accordingly. You can taste a mushroom at this point to see what I mean – it should be well seasoned.

When the vegetables have softened, deglaze with the wine, scraping the bottom and sides to incorporate all of the fond. When the wine has reduced by about 2/3^rds add the Wondra, and stir well so that it soaks up all the fat and juices. Cook for another three minutes.

Add the beef back in along with its juices and most of the stock. If the stock covers everything by more then a couple of inches and you’ve still got some left over, reserve it. It’s always good to have extra on hand in case you want to thin it out. This is another recipe that’s fully constructed in one pot, so you should be tasting as you go, pushing and pulling it back and forth until it has the desired consistency, flavor, and body. The beef itself is very forgiving, and will allow for probably an extra 30 minutes or more of cooking before it starts to give you problems. You don’t want all your potatoes turning to total mush, so add these when you’ve got about 20-30 minutes left. As you can see, it’s very imprecise.

Add the dried spices. Tie the fresh thyme and parsley stems in cheese cloth and submerge it. Bring the whole thing just to a boil, then reduce the heat to a low simmer. Cook, stirring every once and a while to make sure that everything is cooking evenly and that nothing is scorching on the bottom. After 20-30 minutes has elapsed, the stew should have reduced somewhat, and you can add the potatoes. These should simmer for another thirty minutes. Just before you add the potatoes, taste and evaluate the stew, then adjust salt and pepper.

After about 30 minutes of slowly simmering, the stew should have the proper consistency. It should coat the back of the spoon, but not be gooey. (If it’s gone down too far at any point, just add more stock and rewind the clock.) Remove a piece of beef and taste it – it should be fork tender. Remove a potato, it should be fluffy and tender yet still retain its shape. If all this is the case, smash 3 or 4 of the potatoes against the side of the pot with a wooden spoon, then stir to incorporate. Add the butter, adjust seasonings one final time, and cook for another 5 minutes.

I like to slice a baguette into 4 inch pieces, then halve lengthwise, sprinkle a little olive oil on top and put in the toaster for a few minutes until they’re golden. That’s the perfect accompaniment for me, but you can ladle this over rice too. Serve and enjoy at any point; leaving it in the fridge for a day helps everything mellow and blend, so it’s arguably even better on Day 2.