Boeuf Bourguignon:
On Using an Entire Bottle of Wine (In the Pot, Not the Chef)
There are people who think three to four hours is too long to wait for dinner. These are the same people who will spend three hours scrolling through other people’s dinners on their phones. I’m not judging. I’m just saying that if you have time for one, you have time for the other. And one of them taste a lot better the day after.
The French countryside knows something about patience. About letting things take the time they need. A whole bottle of red wine, a kilo of beef, vegetables that have seen better days in your crisper drawer: all of it goes into a pot and transforms into something that makes your home smell like you’ve got your life together, even if you absolutely don’t.
This is the kind of cooking that happens on weekends when you’ve decided that doing nothing productive is, in fact, the most productive thing you can do. You chop vegetables. You brown meat in batches (because crowding the pan is how dreams die).
And then you let it all simmer while you read a book you’ve been meaning to finish for six months, or stare out the window at the garden thinking about all the things you should be doing instead of staring out the window.
I’ve gone rogue with the vegetables in this version. Leeks, mushrooms, carrots, onions. Most recipes show more restraint. I have none. More vegetables means more flavor, and if we’re already using an entire bottle of wine, we might as well commit to the excess.
The alcohol cooks off completely during those long hours, in case you’re wondering whether it’s appropriate to serve to your child. It is. Mine ate it enthusiastically, which is how I know it’s good. Children are brutal food critics.Buy a large piece of beef and cut it yourself. It’s cheaper, and you can freeze what you don’t use.
This is the kind of meal that’s better the next day, and the day after that. The kind you can freeze in portions for those future evenings when you’re too tired to think and need someone from the past (you, weeks ago) to have made dinner for you (you, right now).
I made a potato and celeriac mash to go with it. Bread for dipping is not optional.
Boeuf Bourguignon
Serves 6 to 8
You’ll need:
* 1 kg beef (chuck or similar, cut into chunks)
* 2 tablespoons flour
* 3 teaspoons butter
* 4 carrots, sliced
* 350g mushrooms, quartered
* 2 leeks, sliced
* 2 onions, diced
* 4 cloves garlic, minced
* 2 sprigs rosemary
* 1 sprig thyme
* 1 sprig marjoram
* 150g bacon, diced
* 1 bottle red wine (something drinkable, nothing fancy)
* 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
* Salt and pepper to taste
What you do:
Toss the beef chunks with flour in a large bowl. Brown them in batches in a heavy pot with butter. Don’t crowd them, give them space to actually brown rather than steam. Remove and set aside.
In the same pot, soften the onions and garlic. Add the bacon, leeks, and mushrooms. Let everything get acquainted. Return the beef to the pot along with the carrots.
Pour in the entire bottle of wine and the balsamic vinegar. Tie your herbs together with kitchen string (so you can fish them out later like a bundle of aromatic evidence) and add them to the pot.
Let it simmer for 3 to 4 hours. Your home will smell like a French countryside inn you once stayed at, or wish you had.
Season with salt and pepper. Remove the herbs. Serve with something to soak up the sauce. Mashed potatoes, crusty bread, or both if you’re living correctly.
Potato and Celeriac Mash
* 1 celeriac root, peeled and cubed
* 1 kg potatoes, peeled and cubed
* 1 dl milk
* 1 dl cooking water (reserved)
* 1 tablespoon butter
* Salt to taste
Boil the celeriac and potatoes until completely tender. Drain, reserving some cooking water. Mash with butter, milk, and enough cooking water to reach your preferred consistency. The celeriac adds an earthy sweetness that makes regular mashed potatoes seem like they were missing something all along.