This is why I love my friend David Wescott.
He’s not hungry. He’s telling me — in that way he has — to get back on message, stay the course, stick to what you know, step back from the ledge. As usual, I’m going to take his advice wrapped in an enigma decoded by years of friendship. He’s asking me something I’ve been asking myself for months now: who are you?
Shrug.
Lidia Bastianich’s
Antico Peposo
Beef Braised with Black Peppercorns
I hope David appreciates the irony—in that strange way the Italian language translates meaning (or conveys the uninterpretable), this is the “lunch of coal miners” (more symbolic for the extraordinary amount of black pepper, mimicking the soot). David’s heard me chirp cry for help from the deep recesses of the shaft…
Equipment requirement: Get yourself an enamel coated cast-iron Dutch oven (you might be familiar with high-end names like Le Creuset, but if you don’t have one and don’t have $300 to drop in — or for — this bucket, find yourself some Tramontina for less than $55 at Walmart or Amazon. You’ll want something in 6-6.5 quart or larger range. Bigger is better, right?)
Get yourself a nice side of beef: 2+ pounds of chuck or round cut into 2″ chunks (p.s. chunks of chuck are the cheaper cut). And don’t be a sissy about it, you can cube that beast yourself. If you buy the already-cut-stuff in white paper bowls, (1) you’re probably paying more for nuthin’ and (2) it’s likely the cut is too small and God knows whose leftovers your getting (don’t get me started on ground beef…another day). What’s cool about cutting up a piece of meat (even cutting a cut of a cut), is that you get a sense of how the animal is put together:
And when I say 2″ pieces, please don’t pull out the tape measure. What we’re going for is something that retains its shape as it cooks (and cooks and cooks) and will look nice on the plate. Let me stress, I’m not suggesting that these will result in bite size pieces. By leaving them larger, the diner’s fork “shreds” the meat when the tines pull at the beef, which reveals an almost purplish-i’ve-been-braising-since-you-were-born succulence to the whole eating experience.
We're are neither browning/searing in oil nor adding any fat to the pan.
Next up: 2-4 tablespoons of black peppercorns which will need to be freshly cracked into smaller bits. I use a mortar and pestle, but if you don’t have one (or a spice grinder), try this trick. (Please don’t substitute store bought, already ground pepper — it’s likely ground too fine with equal parts sawdust.) Add your pepper plus a teaspoon of sea salt to the pot.
Lidia says, “My peposo uses only a fraction of the amount of black peppercorns that are in traditional recipes, but it will still please even the most fanatic pepper-lover: this is peppery! When in doubt, split the difference.
You're measuring the peppercorns whole and then crushing (not vice versa).
We’re getting close to finishing: rough chop a head of garlic and add that to the pot.
Last, but not least: you’ll need a bottle (maybe even more) of dry red wine. The meat needs to be covered by liquid; if you find yourself a tad shy and you’re too cheap to open another bottle, top off with beef stock or absent that, water. Bring this to a boil, then reduce to a simmer, then embrace your inner Beyonce (no, really, this is important) and sing,
Wuh Uh Oh Uh Uh Oh Uh Oh Oh Uh Uh Oh
Wuh Uh Oh Uh Uh Oh Uh Oh Oh Uh Uh Oh
If you liked it then you should have put a ring lid on it
If you liked it then you should have put a ring lid on it
With regard to the wine: go with what you’ve got in the house (assuming it’s not that Barolo you’ve been saving for a special occasion). If you don’t keep wine on hand (I won’t be dropping by unannounced), buy yourself a couple of bottles of Chianti (no special DOCG needed, something in the $7-8 range). This braise will simmer (covered, if you missed it) on the stove top for 4-1/2 to 5 hours.
Some of the liquid will evaporate during the cooking process, but not a lot because the lid is capturing the steam and reintroducing it to the dish. I like my sauce with a little more structure so before I serve, I carefully take the meat out of the pot and set aside in a bowl. I say carefully, because the meat is barely holding together after all that time and you don’t want to serve it shredded like some pedestrian Carolina BBQ. Crank the heat up under the pot to reduce the liquid and/or add a bit of unctuousness to the sauce with a Beurre manié (equal parts butter mashed with flour to create a paste and then whisking that into the sauce as it reduces).
When the sauce is to the consistency you like (but short of gravy, me no likey), add the meat back and bathe with the sauce.
If you’re like David, and work from home, you can start this at your lunch break and be ready to serve when your wife comes home from a real job. For others with real jobs, you could try finishing the simmer off in a slow cooker; I’ve never done it, so if you try, let me know how it works out for you.
Sides: personally, I serve this over a puddle of polenta (infused with a strong cheese like asiago or pecorino) , because it tastes good, it’s easy to make and makes for an appealing color contrast to the near black meat. For the veg, anything green (again, color is kind of important to offset the meat); personally, I like rapini.
Another note on polenta: February 14 is the annual “La Polenta degli Innamorati” (Polenta Lover) in Rocca di Papa (Italy), where residents cook more that 5,000 servings of polenta to celebrate peace and brotherhood among people and peoples (so the travelogue tells me). It’s a good excuse to make this meal for Valentines Day; it’s super simple but you’ll look like a rock star.
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