Pot Roast

I have never made or eaten a pot roast in my life.  Until Sunday.  Most cultures have some sort of dish that involves a cheap, tough cut of meat cooked over a low heat for a long period of time.  For example, Jews have brisket.  This may be done differently in every Jewish family and deli, but over all, we do brisket.  Pot roast was a slightly foreign subject to me, although it turns out, it’s similar in preparation:  Brown it, cook it in liquid with aromatic vegetables, and cook it for a long period of time. 

Last weekend, my friend Jacky told me she had recently made a pot roast, and I had to make it.  I was immediately enchanted.  I was also enchanted by what she reported for her chosen side dish:  mashed potatoes.  I will take any excuse to make mashed potatoes, including pot roast.  The truth is that soon it will be warm, and soon my apartment will be very warm.  I am desperately clinging to my waning opportunities to make comfort foods, and pot roast/mashed potatoes fits perfectly into that category.

It turns out that pot roast is truly delightful.  I think that searing the meat is key.  (For the record, I used a chuck roast based on the recommendation of a charming butcher at Whole Foods.)  I digress:  make sure to give that roast a deep, dark, brown crust.  It’s worth the time, and it’s worth the discipline to leave that roast untouched as each side sizzles in the pan.  As for the pan, I used my soup pot, and braised my pot “roast” on the stove.  Many recipes call for a low oven, but my oven is the bane of my existence.  The only other advice you need is to season that brick of meat liberally, slice your vegetables thick, and don’t skimp on the butter in your mashed potatoes.  This is a perfect Sunday night dinner:  tender meat and vegetables, savory broth, an apartment that smells intoxicating, and unavoidably jealous neighbors.

Pot Roast

2 tablespoons olive oil

3-4 lb. chuck roast

5 carrots, sliced

5 celery stalks sliced

¼ pound button mushrooms, quartered

1 onion, quartered

4 cloves garlic, sliced

2 sprigs fresh rosemary

6 springs fresh thyme

2 bay leaves

3 cups liquid (I used a combination of 1 cup red wine, 1 ½ cups chicken stock, ½ cup water – all in all, pretty flexible)

Kosher salt, pepper, Lawry’s seasoned salt, garlic salt

-       Season roast liberally

-       In a large stock pot with tight fitting lid, preheat olive oil over medium high heat

-       Sear roast on all sides until browned (this should take about 5 minutes per side.  Leave it alone and let it brown.  Set a timer if necessary to keep your hands off of it)

-       Add liquid and scatter vegetables and herbs around the roast (some vegetables will not be submerged)

-       Cover and reduce heat to low so liquid simmers

-       Braise for 3 hours, basting every 30 minutes, until meat begins to fall apart (the braising liquid should be bubbling, but not boiling)

-       Serve meat and vegetables over mashed potatoes (watch out for bay leaves and the stems of rosemary and thyme)

Matzo Ball Soup

New Year’s Eve, 2010: the close of a remarkable year.  When I say “remarkable,” I mean it in the truest sense of the word, meaning striking, noteworthy, and worthy of attention.  I have been blissfully happy, stressed, inspired, disenchanted, and utterly devastated.  I have been to a wedding, and a funeral.  And it has now come to a close.  I have been accused of being a contrarian before, and while I am not certain that this shoe fits me in general, it definitely fits when it comes to New Year’s Eve.  To me, New Year's Eve is a recipe for disappointment:  over-crowded bars with over-priced drinks.  Because it marks the passing of years, it necessitates some sort of self-reflection, for which crowds of strangers are not conducive.  So, what do these negative opinions make me?  A party pooper.  And no better way to embrace my true party pooper self than to stay in on New Year’s Eve, and do some cooking to tend my wounds.

New Year’s Eve cooking provides the opportunity for leisurely, slow-simmering recipes.  I chose soul-soothing matzo ball soup, and indulged in all possible steps to make it as flavorful as possible, drawing out the process simply because I had the time to.  Honestly, what else is a party pooper going to do on New Year’s Eve when it is 10 degrees outside?

The first thing I did was prepare the tender little matzo balls.  If you’ve never had a matzo ball, it is sort of like a bland meatball made entirely with cracker meal.  I suppose it may be called a Jewish dumpling, comprised of matzo meal and a little oil, bound together with eggs.  They are tender, bland, and comforting.  Matzo balls are simmered in salted water, which results in random salty bites.  The whole process takes about 45 minutes, and it is largely unattended.  The easiest thing you can do is to go the kosher isle of the grocery store and pick up a box of matzo ball mix, then follow the instructions exactly.  It’s pretty simple.  Most importantly, do not, under any circumstances, lift the lid off the matzo balls as they simmer.  This will make them tough.  This advice has been passed down from my late grandmother, and must be heeded.  My grandma was not exactly known for her culinary prowess; she had a habit of  mixing any and all lingering beverages in the fridge into one cesspool of leftover liquids (juices, soda, anything).  However, the woman knew her matzo balls.  

Essentially, you mix one packet of matzo meal with 2 lightly beaten eggs and 2 tablespoons of vegetable oil.  Let this sit in the refrigerator for 15 minutes, and then roll the mixture into 1 inch diameter spheres.  Next, drop the them into boiling, salted water, and put a lid on the pot.  Reduce the heat to a simmer, and leave the pot alone for 20 minutes.  Anyway, if you follow these instructions or the one on the box, you should have matzo balls that look something like the picture above.  They will be tender and fluffy, yet substantial.  They are sort of like lumps of bread that can stand up to soup.  Furthermore, matzo balls can be made in advance and await your spoon in the fridge.  I made mine in the morning, but I don’t see why they couldn’t be made a day in advance.  

Next, I proceeded in making a delicious broth.  I did not make it from scratch, and instead fortified canned chicken stock with aromatic vegetables and herbs.  I used carrots (3 cut in thirds), celery (3 stalks cut in thirds), 1 onion (peeled and halved), 6 whole garlic cloves (peeled), fresh dill sprigs, and lots of black pepper.  All of these lovely vegetables took a leisurely bath in 4 cans worth of simmering chicken stock (with one cup water added).  This step of simmering vegetables is not necessary, but it adds richness to the stock, makes your apartment smell amazing, and it’s fun (at least that is my personal belief).  Simply add the aforementioned vegetables in large chunks and let the broth simmer away for an hour or so.  Cover the soup during this process, but vent the lid, and stir the broth occasionally.  When the vegetables are very tender, and they have relinquished their fresh flavor, remove them with a slotted spoon.  You can discard them, or enjoy them as a snack.  I always leave the garlic cloves in soup because I love them.  If you've never had slow-cooked garlic cloves, they may surprise you.  After all of that cooking, they become incredibly soft and lose their pungency.       

If you skip the previously discussed stock fortifying step, do not fear.  You will still have delicious soup.  Use the same amount of broth and add 4-5 thinly sliced carrots and 3 thinly sliced stalks of celery.  Pepper, dill (fresh or dried), or dried parsley are all nice additions.  In fact, treat your soup in this manner whether you have skipped the step above or not.  According to Marc Bittman, traditional matzo ball soup is served only with carrots, but celery was always in the mix at my family dinner.  Once you add the sliced carrots and celery, simmer for about thirty minutes to an hour so that the fresh vegetables may cook to your texture specifications.  Allow the soup to cook uncovered at this point so that the broth will reduce, and deepen in flavor. 

When you are ready to eat, add the matzo balls to the soup (they warm quickly, and I do it per each bowl).  Perhaps sprinkle some fresh dill on top.  With this soup, you now are ready to soothe your soul, even if it’s only a temporary measure.  That is, until you go back for seconds.    

Rosh Hashanah

In addition to the mountains and almost daily sunshine, Boulder has another huge selling point for me: my cousin, Shell (short for Michelle).  Her apartment is a five-minute walk from mine.  Boulder is still new to me, and having her here is like having a bit of home with me.  Though I have treasured our proximity since my arrival, I was especially grateful for her presence this past weekend; it was Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year.  Our family was never particularly religious, but we have always been thrilled to have an excuse for a great dinner.  The holidays in our family definitely have a distinct flavor (I think it’s Lawry’s seasoning salt).  A lot has changed in our family over the years, including this annual dinner, which no longer takes place.  This is simply due to the various directions our lives have taken: kids grew up (myself included), people moved, new generations have been sprouted.  So, when Shell and I decided to throw our own holiday, the ordeal had a particularly nostalgic flare, since we were recreating something that is no longer in practice.

Our buttery, salty spread included:  matzo ball soup* (tender, fluffy matzo balls, not the dense baseballs you find in delis), brisket*, twice-baked potato casserole, and carrots glazed in butter and brown sugar.  In fact, this was not necessarily a traditional Rosh Hashanah meal, but more of a conglomerate of the Jewish holidays in our family.  This was not an elegant meal, nor one of perfect presentation, but it certainly was tasty.

Matzo ball soup was our first course.  This is very simple: pick up a pack of Manischewitz matzo ball mix, follow the directions, and DO NOT open the lid until the timer goes off.  Put some canned chicken stock on the stove with aromatic vegetables*.  Simmer until the vegetables are tender; serve with the matzo balls, which can be made ahead. 

The potato dish is quite literally a giant twice baked potato.  After baking boatloads of Idaho potatoes, scoop out the flesh and mix in butter, sour cream, dried chives, dried parsley, parmesan (any type/brand will do), Lawry’s seasoning salt, and garlic salt.  Keep adding ingredients until the consistency is smooth and it tastes… perfect.  Or as Shell and I said, it tastes like home.  Then before dinner, top it with more parmesan and paprika, and throw it a hot oven until it is brown, bubbly, and lovely. 

The brisket is a tender, salty masterpiece that needs over four hours in the oven to reach its full potential.  If you are looking for hearty comfort food, this will do the trick. 

Brisket:

3 1/2 to 4 lb. flat cut brisket - well trimmed of fat and seasoned with Lawry's Seasoning Salt, pepper, garlic powder, and paprika (you can season it the night before and let it settle in)

Bake UNCOVERED at 400 degrees for 30 minutes

Decrease oven temperature to 325 degrees

Pour mixed sauce around brisket:

  1 small can tomato sauce

  1 can beef broth

  1/3 cup red wine

  1 1/2 cups of boiling water

  Sprinkle 1/2 to 1 package of Lipton Onion Soup mix over brisket, seal well with foil

Bake for 3 1/2 hours at 325 degrees.  If desired, add carrot, potatoes, small onions for last hour of cooking.

The recipe above isn’t exactly the way my aunt does it because she doesn’t use a recipe.  Nonetheless, it comes from another Jewish kitchen, and it has all the same ingredients.

Overall, Shell and I were quite pleased with ourselves.  If any other this sounds particularly good to you, feel free to e-mail me for details.  I’d be more than happy to divulge.  However, I feel the need to refrain from boasting too much about flavor due to my undying bias towards this food.  Because of this, I will attempt to provide my readers with an objective measure of my enjoyment: I had three heaping servings of potatoes, and ate them for breakfast.  They are also making repeat performances in my dreams.


*See glossary for definitions