Chuck/Round – Chili Brew Beef Stew with Floating Biscuits

Good afternoon, interwebs. Great to rap at ya.

It’s autumn here in the City of Angels, and the signs are everywhere. People wear scarves in fifty degree weather. Schools and civic groups begin to think about importing snow-making machines. And high above, it’s vaguely overcast. Maybe. If you squint.

I’m a Kansas kid and I love the fall, so I’ll take it when I can get it. My family and I went on a long bike ride yesterday in Santa Barbara, and I had to put a hoodie on over my t-shirt. I’ll take it.

Because it’s fall, we’re feeling like comfort good. But which? Is it cold enough for a stew? Chilly enough to knock out some Beef Bourginon? I know Los Angeles thins the blood, but I need to save the culinary big guns for when I really need it.

Thankfully, the Grassfed Gourmet cookbook has some options. I decide on some chili.

There are as many chili recipes out there as there are DNA sequences. Frequently, they call for ground beef. I’m not really interested in using ground beef today. I have some time and effort to spare. So I find a recipe in the Grassfed Gourmet that interests me.

It calls for “stew meat,” which I have and have used in this space before. However, it also calls for bones and/or oxtails. Fascinating. I’m saving my oxtails for something special, but I have plenty of stew meat and bones.

Plus, it calls for beer, biscuits and (weirdly) turnips. I’m onboard. Let’s see what you’re all about, Turnip Chili.

The mise:

Note the root veggies on the right.

The recipe calls for 1.5 pounds of meat in any combination of stew meat, oxtails, and soup bones. I have stew meat in one pound increments, so I have a half pound to do something or nothing with. I vote something.

I find a big soup bone that isn’t really suitable for roasting for marrow (go go gadget future plans!), and that weighs about a half pound. Ish.

One of these things is not like the other.

I dust everything involved in seasoned flour.

All the meat gets a quick sear in olive oil, including the bone. Set aside.

More olive oil, and the onion goes in for a sweat.

A little more olive oil, and in go the diced carrots and turnip.

My recipe calls for three carrots. My veggie delivery service this week provided peeled-and-washed baby carrots. I estimate.

Close enough for jazz.

And the turnip is still just weird to me.

Onions are just starting to brown. Back in with the meat and the bone.

In goes a can of beer, enough beef stock to cover, thyme, and a couple of bay leaves.

Boil, reduce to simmer, cover.

An hour and forty-five later, and the meat chunks are soft and lovely. I pull the bone, and throw together the rough biscuit dough for the topping. After I apply it, I stash the pot uncovered in the oven.

Fifteen more minutes, and everything is golden brown and lovely.

I can get down.

Plate.

Ah, fall.

Verdict: Some number out of some larger number. Frankly, I’m not where to start on this one.

First, it was lovely. The meat was braised nicely, the beef flavor was pronounced, and the biscuit was, quite frankly, a show-stopper. And my toddler son devoured it by the spoonful fistful.

For good or ill, I was not aware of any particular turnip presence.

But chili? Really? I wouldn’t call that. I’d call it a nicely done beef stew topped with biscuits.

Further, either my heat was a tad high, or the biscuits absorbed a fair bit of the liquid beneath them. Because the biscuits didn’t so much float on the “chili,” so much as they rested on it.

Still, if you’re looking for comfort food on something resembling a fall day, this is a fine choice.

The Wife Says: If you’re expecting competition-style Terlingua chili? 5 out of 10 peppers. She thought it had more in common texture-wise with stuffing than with chili.

However, if you’re interested in a hearty and fulfilling fall meal that’ll make the house smell delightful… 9 out of 10. It was delicious and satisfying, it just didn’t resemble her concept of chili.

However, I’d make this again. The beef really shone. And if I massaged it a bit, I think I could manage the liquid content better so that it didn’t remind anyone of stuffing.

The Son Says : Ten! But that’s because that’s the highest he can count, and he’s pretty excited about it.

Is this a turnip? In chili? Really?

I would, and will, make this again.

Next up: Everything goes all spangles and tarts.

Chuck/Round – Dude Stew

I know. The title of this post sounds like hot tub time at a frat house. I assure you, that is not how I spent my Saturday.

Tonight, my lovely wife attended a Drag Queen Tupperware Party at a friend of ours’. I believe the Tupperware is sold by – and largely to – drag queens, rather than being an emporium where one could purchase a sensible product line to keep your drag queens fresh. But I could be wrong on that.

Regardless, D and I are kicking it by ourselves tonight. No ladies. No chicas. No wives or mothers. Just a coupla dudes bein’ dudes.

Maybe we’ll watch some football. Maybe we’ll rebuild the transmission on that old ‘78 Firebird I got up on blocks (Huh? shut up). Maybe we’ll wrassle some ‘gators. Who knows.

It’s also gonna be a crazy weekend. I likely won’t get to cook at all unless I do it tonight.

Luckily, I have help.

The crew.

Alright.

We’re looking for a no-fuss, relatively quick meal. We had swim lessons this morning, so we’re also looking for something hearty. Something stick-to-your-ribs. I’d also like to use some of my recently-delivered organic vegetables that I got in on Wednesday.

It’s summer, but we don’t play by anybody’s rules but our own. Let’s make stew.

This dish uses either chuck or round… I’m not entirely sure which. The butcher who partitioned my beastie was under orders to cut stew meat from both primals. From the looks of it, I’m guessing round. It doesn’t seem to have the marbling I’ve seen in the chuck I’ve used from this steer.

The mise:

You got anything for me to do?

This dish is pretty simple. We do have some prep, though. First, we peel some garlic.

I got this.

Gotta peel onions, too.

That's how you do that.

And carrots.

And, because we’re dudes, we’re gonna use some bacon.

How ya feel about bacon?

Me too.

Ready to cook.

First we crispify the bacon. How much bacon? Some. Measuring’s for chumps. Remove.

Beef in to brown in baconfat. Like God intended.

Beef out.

Baconfat good.

Onions in. Until soft-ish.

A little flour in, to make roux’s first cousin, “a little flour fried in baconfat with onions.” Then bay leaf, thyme, and some beef stock. I don’t have any in the freezer, so I use boxed. (Nobody’s rules but our own!)

Boil, baby.

Once we’re boiling, lid up and drop heat to low. D and I retire to watch some “Science.“

When the iphone beeps a half-hour later, we deposit some carrots and potatoes, re-boil, re-drop, re-lid, and kick back a while longer.

Forty-ish minutes later, veggies are soft and the meat is like buttah. Peas in, bacon in, and wait five minutes for what D calls, the “big boom.”

Dinner up.

Verdict: Quite good. It wasn’t revelatory, but it was definitely solid. The bacon added a nice smoky note to a very earthy, satisfying dish. I think next time I’d like to use half wine, half stock to braise the meat. This is a dish I think I could get better at, should I do it more. Which I intend to.

The Wife Says: Yay! Tupperware!

The Son Says: Sometimes one spoon just isn’t enough.

Up next: Patagonian monkey rugby.

EDIT: This was even better the second day. And still better yet the third. Time is on your side.