Tony's Food 101: Pot Roast for a Hard Rotation (or Busy Work Week)

It's no secret that I haven't been particularly good about posting lately, and it's primarily because of a rough month on the Stroke team in September and a deadlines for AAN 2011 abstract submissions in October (along with my annual pilgrimage/vacation to Burlington, VT and a houswarming party to throw). So what's a busy resident to do, balancing service requirements, studying, social life and a stalwart dedication to cooking at home as much as possible? Well, as the weather cools down, the answer is simple: the crock pot.

If you don't own one, go and buy or order one right now. I'm not even kidding. They don't cost more than $30 and they accomplish two amazing things:

1) They do all the actual cooking for you while you're at work - all you do is throw ingredients in and turn it on. It's also nearly impossible to burn anything in a crockpot, so no worries there.
2) They cook things at a very low temperature for a very long time - delicate flavors are preserved and overall the flavor of a dish has hours to develop.

This allows busy people to make amazing things to eat without dedicating more than 15 minutes in the kitchen. It also allows said busy people to cut down on all the salt and fat and preservatives they would otherwise be dragooned into eating from prepared foods. I tend to view crockpot-type foods as more seasonal for fall and winter (e.g. roasts, hearty stews), but there's no reason not to haul out this ceramic wonder May through August. Here's a super fast, amazing technique for pot roast that I developed in medical school and perfected for busy service months.

Crock-Pot Pot-Roast

• A 3-5 pound beef round or chuck roast.
• Two large onions, cut into 1/4 inch thick rounds or half-rounds.
• Two cloves of garlic, smashed.
• Whole seasonal fresh herbs (I like sage or rosemary in the colder months).
• Coarse salt and cracked black pepper to taste.

Ok, this is really, really easy. Put the onions and garlic in the bottom of the crock pot in the morning before you leave for work (you can cut everything up the night before, if you're not up on your knife skills). Rub the roast with salt and pepper and plop it down on top of the onions. I find that if there's a fatty side, putting that up works best. Throw your herbs on top. Cover and turn on low. (In the past, I've tried turning it on high for an hour and then turning it down: This makes no difference). Go to work. Come home to find a tender, flavorful roast sitting in a ton of jus. You will have leftovers (it makes an awesome sandwich with horseradish sauce). I store it in a tupperware with the jus in it, this will keep it from drying out, and you can just microwave the whole thing to re-live your home-cook-rock-star dinner on another late night later that week.

I will try to post more often, I have some pretty good material lined up for November.

Meat 101: Braised Short Rib

Thanksgiving break is over, back to the learnin'.

A couple of months ago, my girlfriend and I went on a short vacation to Burlington, VT. I had spent a month there on an audition rotation for a neurology program, and then we had gone in 2008 for a short weekend away. Needless to say, I'm pretty familiar with Burlington, but prior to this last vacation I had never been to Trattoria Delia, and had never eaten wild boar (Figure 8.a).

Figure 8.a - The noble and apparently delicious wild boar. (http://www.linburnes.org/)

They served it braised, pulled apart and tossed with heavy, hearty roman gnocchi. It was an amazing meal to be had on a freezing Vermont evening. The problem with knowing how to cook is that every time you sit down to a meal, you think "I could do that." Not willing to buy wild boar meat online and have it shipped across the nation (my mom always told me never to pay more than $1.99/lb for meat, a truth I've held to for the majority of my adult life) but wanting to re-create the dish I loved so much from my vacation, I set off to the grocery store. I was armed with a knowledge of cuts of beef, their relative flavors, and the application to use them in (Figure 8.b).

Figure 8.b - I like this chart because it reminds me of the periodic table. (http://fornaturalfood.com/)

Braising is a form of slowwwww cooking, so its ideal piece of meat is one that is as flavorful as possible, tenderness be damned. It's the same reason stores sell super-tough chuck all cut up for stew - by the time you're done simmering it, it will be as tender as... well... use your imagination. That day, I ended up with a package of boneless short rib that they were selling on the cheap. I already had the other essentials for braising at home (Figure 8.c) - a dutch oven, plenty of wine, black pepper and salt. So I set to it, and here we are to reap the fruits of my experimental labor.

Figure 8.c - Braising essentials, in no particular order.

Braised Short Rib

• One or two pounds of boneless beef short rib, or three to four pounds of beef short rib on the bone, depending on how many people you plan on feeding and how long each of you plans on eating left overs. The key here is to at least double up on the pounds if you're buying your meat on the bone. Any meat with bones is arguably more flavorful than without, but do what you want.
• One or two big glugs of olive oil.
• A large onion, cut into half-rings.
• Enough black pepper to slightly surpass your comfort level.
• Half a hand full of sea salt or kosher salt.
• A bottle of red wine that you like - I pictured Pinot Noir because that's the only one I had on hand tonight. For the initial recipe, I used an old vine zinfandel. Feel free to use Cabs, Chiantis, Super-tuscans, et cetera.
• (Optional) A couple of sprigs of fresh rosemary.
• Two big pats of butter -or- two more big glugs of olive oil.
• Half and hand full of all purpose flour.

Preheat your oven to Bake 275. That's right. Not the universal bakers' 350, 75 degrees less than that. Coat the meat with salt and pepper. Place the oil, the onions and your short rib in a dutch oven. I use plain cast iron, the enamel ones work fine too. You can use any pan with a cover that you can put on the stove top and the oven without it melting. Brown the meat on all sides well on medium high heat.

Pour yourself a glass of wine. After the meat is done turning brown and tasty, pour the rest of the bottle of wine into the pot. Add the rosemary, if you're using it. Scrape what ever's stuck to the bottom up with a wooden spoon. Cover the pot/pan/earthen vessel/whatever and place in the oven. Let it simmer (i.e. braise) for two or three hours. Honestly, the longer you let it sit, the more tender the meat will be.

Finally, take the pot out of the oven. Scoop the meat out (leave the onions in), put it on a plate and cover it with tin foil. Return the pot to the stove top, and turn the heat up to high. Let the braising liquid (wine + meat juices = braising liquid) bubble away until it's about half way reduced. In a seperate pan, let your flour heat in a dry pan until it starts to turn gold-brown. Add in your butter or olive oil and whisk aggressively (butter + flour + heat = a roux). Take a scoop of your reduced braising liquid and whisk it into your roux, then return the whole thing back to the original pot. Reduce your heat to medium and stir, it will become drastically thicker. Return your meat to your newly formed gravy and toss it around. You can either serve it just like that, or pull it apart and toss it with pasta Vermont-wild-boar-style.

Hope you enjoyed today's installment, be back next week with more winter season food.