A French stew of beef, wine, and unexpected shame
Beef shoulder was on sale this week and it made me think of a Jacque Pepin recipe I had seen recently. The recipe comes from an old episode of Jacque Pepin’s cooking show I watched on the KQED Youtube Channel. I love when I get to cook one of his recipes. They are always so thoughtful, generally focused on being inexpensive and approachable for home cooks, and full of tips for lowering fat content and unnecessary calories without sacrificing flavor.
I don’t drink anymore so this may seem like a weird choice, as it is literally beef cooked in wine. But I like the depth of flavor added by cooking with wine, which usually comes in the form of adding a cup or less of wine to the aromatic base of a sauce, deglazing the pan before adding stock/broth/water. Directions usually say to let the liquid reduce by half, which cooks off most of the alcohol and leaves behind the subtle tang and sweetness of the wine.
My wrestling match with this dish started late last night…
Actually, let me stop. I’ve had a bigger issue recently that has even more to do with what went wrong here.
I’ve been a little overwhelmed lately because I’m stretching- mentally, emotionally, physically, and especially spiritually- with some things in my personal and professional life. Good things. And it’s really exciting and sometimes scary and always a decent amount of work alongside my responsibilities at home. But I noticed something tonight, something that has been going on for at least a few weeks but had escaped my direct attention. Whenever a recipe is very involved or just has a lot of steps, I find myself skimming them instead of reading them; just getting the Cliff’s Notes and telling myself I’ll read it more closely when I start doing prep. And I think this has to do with my mind having so much going in the background. It’s like my brain sees more than twenty words in a single step of a recipe, shakes itself vigorously, and comes up “try again later.” All that to say, it’s resulted in some missteps this week that led me here.
The gist of this recipe: Beef shoulder marinated overnight in red wine with veggies, aromatics, and spices. The next day, sear off the shoulder in an oven-safe vessel, pour the marinade back in, and cook it with the lid on low-and-slow in the oven for 3 hours. Then you strain the sauce to remove spent ingredients, add freshly blanched veggies, and serve by slicing the beef and surrounding it with the juice and vedge.
But back to the action. The night before:
Jennifer and I went to our church’s small group last night and wound up getting home very late, which isn’t uncommon. I mismanaged the start time of dinner as well- I misread the cook time because it was sort of spread out over several steps and… well, see above. So, we didn’t eat dinner until we got home… late. It had been a long day, so right after dinner we started to get ready for bed when I realized I still needed to marinate the beef for today’s meal. After some cutting, peeling, smashing, and measuring, I was ready to add the wine: three cups of wine. I measured it and, in my haste to be done with the final step, hard-poured the wine over the meat and veggies. And the frumpy dog on the front of my inexpensive bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon spoke, or growled maybe, “you can’t rush French cuisine, American slob.” And the wine erupted from the surface of the beef onto the counter, the cutting board, and my phone’s screen where I was reading the recipe.
Touché, Bouef en Daube.
But the real trouble happened tonight. After the long braise, I removed the beef from the pot, strained out the solids, and returned the reserved liquid. One odd aspect of this recipe is that it called for the fresh vegetables- the small potatoes, baby carrots, and pearl onions that will be served with the dish- to be cooked separately instead of just simmered in the cooking liquid. Since this was my first go at the recipe, I decided to trust the process and figured it was simply going for clean flavors. Once the veggies were ready, I tossed them and the meat in the pot with the cooking liquid, turned the heat medium, and warmed everything back up for serving.
Finally, I tasted the cooking liquid for seasoning. I was fairly confident it would be good because I seasoned throughout but it’s always important to taste. And the flavor was good, but I got this vaguely familiar, unexpected sharp taste in the back of my throat. I asked Jennifer if she would come and taste it to see what she thought. Before she made it to the kitchen, it hit me.
It was alcohol.
My heart dropped. I felt immediately embarrassed and defeated as my mind shot back through the cooking process. Three cups of wine, lightly simmering for a couple of hours in a covered dish. No broth. No water. Just wine. Somehow, it never occurred to me that the alcohol wouldn’t really have any chance to cook off. And I was miserable, not only because it has been almost three years since I’ve had any alcohol, but because there was no way I could eat this dinner or serve it to my kids.
I was feeling a little wrecked at this point but it was dinner time on a school night. I generally don’t accept being defeated in the kitchen, so the fight continued.
I realized I could still burn off the alcohol but I would need high heat. Remembering I had some store-bought beef stock left in the fridge from something I cooked last week, I set the meat aside again, strained the good veggies back out of the sauce, and turned the heat up to high. I added in a cup or two of beef stock- whatever was left in the carton- and seasoned with some salt. After the liquid had reduced by about half (or potentially a little more because I was still feeling out of sorts and nervous about the alcohol) I tasted it and all was right with the world. The flavor was concentrated, rich, and still had depth and sweetness from the red wine. But no sharp tinge of alcohol. The beef was great too- sweet and incredibly tender, although it had dried out a little at this point. An absolute win overall, though, taste and texture-wise.
Fortunately, as the evening went on, I was able to calm down. I probably drank a teaspoon of warm wine- which, of course, was diluted some by the long simmering and by the liquid that was released by the cooked vegetables. It didn’t make me feel any sort of way- aside from flushed with embarrassment and frustration- and it didn’t make me want to tip back the rest of the bottle.
I almost didn’t write about this dish because I was ashamed. I’m very proud of being sober because that decision made my life better, and the lives of my wife and kids. I’m a better, more productive, and happier person without drugs and alcohol. And, even though it was just a teaspoon, I felt like I had lost some big battle. Like I had thoughtlessly ruined something for myself. But I didn’t. I just made a mistake. And one that hopefully will make me more conscientious in the future.
Big emotional discoveries aside, I really enjoyed making this and it was a unique stew because of the wine. Most notably, the beef was infused with a mild sweetness because it took on the fruitiness of the cab while marinating, which I don’t know that you could successfully replicate any other way. Here’s the recipe I used and the video I mentioned. And if you’ve never watched Jacque Pepin and you enjoy cooking vids, definitely take the time. It’s worth it.
Honorable mention also goes to the dessert featured in this video, which I also made. Fresh strawberries glazed with jam which, aside from being totally gorgeous, were so simple and delicious.
And, as Jacque would say, happy cooking!