Don’t Stew About It

One day it’s sunny and bright, the next grey and chill—in other words, March. While we were in Antigua a couple of weeks ago, it seemed to rain every night, overnight, leaving everything fresh and clear in the morning. I like that idea but don’t know how to get our climate to adopt it. These days it’s hard to be sure we know anything.

I am pretty sure, though, that on a damp, cool day we’re going to want something comforting and warm for dinner. With two hours of video that I needed to screen for work playing in the background, I could come up with something.

Don’t-Stew-About-It Stew

Put a film of oil in the Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Set the oven to 350F. Open the window a crack so the smoke detector doesn’t get fussy. Sprinkle cubes of beef chuck with salt and pepper. Working in batches so the pot doesn’t get crowded, brown the beef on all sides.

Deglaze the pot with a little stock. Roughly chop lots of vegetables: lots of carrots; a couple big, fat onions; plenty of celery; a few cloves of garlic. Add a bit more oil to the pot and lightly brown the vegetables; give them a little salt to help draw out moisture from the onions. Make a little well in the middle of the pot and sauté a couple tablespoons of tomato paste, then stir to distribute it among the vegetables.

Add the beef back to the pot, atop the veg. Sprinkle with a couple tablespoons of flour. Put the pot in the oven for 10 minutes or so to lightly brown the flour.

Remove the pot from the oven and stir in a couple cups of stock and a cup of red wine, salt and pepper, some thyme, a little paprika, a couple bay leaves. Put the lid on the pot, return the pot to the oven, and walk away.

Finish watching the stupid video. Take the quiz, passing it a perfect score and the knowledge that you would have scored just as well without watching the video. Don’t stew about it. The house is starting to smell wonderful. Go for a run and shower afterwards; there’s plenty of time.

After a few hours, check the beef. When it’s just shy of falling-apart tender, lower the oven temperature a bit and put the pot back in without its lid so the sauce can thicken a bit. At the last minute, warm a couple of serving bowls in the oven. Serve the stew in warm bowls, topped with a little chopped parsley, along with some nice, crusty bread.

No need for a cookbook, no need for exact amounts or fretting over lacking ingredients. Just a cutting board, a Dutch oven, a sharp knife, and little confidence that, though there’s a lot I can’t control and even more I can’t predict, there will be dinner.

And probably some leftovers. It’ll probably rain again tomorrow.