A simple tradition.

Hearty meal season is upon us, and with that I bring you beef stew. My fiance and I pick up our Christmas tree during the first weekend of December, and though there are sappy fingers, needle-covered floors and a LOT of lugging involved (for him), the spirit-warming results are always worth it. We decorate the tree with an ever-growing hodgepodge of ornaments, and light a fire and watch Home Alone or National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. It’s a simple tradition, but we look forward to it all year. And now that we’re engaged, I can’t help but imagine doing these things with our kids someday.

I also think I’ll add this beef stew to our little tradition. After schlepping an Evergreen up a flight of stairs, finagling it into a temperamental stand and scooping up needles from the weirdest of places (I swear I found a few in the fridge), we deserve some good old-fashioned comfort food. Between the wine and the bacon, this meal is a gift all its own.

Beef Stew
Adapted from The Barefoot Contessa

Ingredients
2 ½ lbs good quality beef cut in 1 ¼-inch cubes (buy it pre-cut at the butcher or grocery store)
1 bottle of good Cabernet Sauvignon
3 whole garlic cloves, smashed
3 bay leaves
6 oz. bacon, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 ½ C. All-purpose flour, plus another 2 Tbs for later
Kosher salt
Black pepper
Olive oil
2 C. chopped yellow onions
1 lb carrots, peeled and cut into 1 ½-inch chunks
1 1lb small potatoes, halved or quartered
1 14 oz. can of beef stock
1 large branch of fresh rosemary
2 Tbs Worcestershire sauce
1 10-oz package frozen peas

Place the beef in a bowl with the whole garlic cloves and bay leaves, and pour the entire bottle of wine over it. Marinate in the fridge for one hour (Note: the longer you marinate, the more flavor the stew will have. But I find an hour does the trick).

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Brown the bacon in a large sauté pan for 5 to 7 minutes over medium-low heat. With a slotted spoon, transfer the bacon to a Dutch oven. Combine the flour with 1 Tbs salt and 2 tsp pepper. Lift the beef out of the marinade, and discard the bay leaves and garlic but reserve the liquid. In batches, dredge the cubes of beef in the flour mixture and shake off the excess.

In the sauté pan, brown half the beef over medium heat for 5 to 7 minutes, turning to brown evenly. Place the beef in the Dutch oven with the bacon and continue to brown the remaining beef, placing it all in the Dutch oven.

Lower the heat in the sauté pan to medium-low, add the onions and cook for 5 minutes. Add the minced garlic and cook for 1 more minute. Add the carrots and potatoes and cook for 5 more minutes, stirring occasionally. Place all the vegetables in the Dutch oven with the beef. Add 2 ½ C of the reserved marinade to the sauté pan and discard the rest. Cook over high heat to deglaze the bottom of the pan, scraping up all the brown bits wih a wooden spoon.

Add the beef stock, rosemary, Worcestershire sauce, 1 Tbs salt and 2 tsp pepper. Pour the sauce over the meat and vegetables in the Dutch oven and bring it to a simmer over medium heat on top of the stove. Cover the pot and place it in the over for 2 hours, until the meat and vegetables are all tender, stirring once after 1 hour. If the stew is boiling rather than simmering, lower the heat to 275 degrees.

When the stew is done and the meat is tender, whisk 2 Tbs of the flour and 1 C. of the sauce together and pour it back into the stew. Simmer for 3 minutes, until thickened. Stir in the frozen peas, season to taste and serve hot.

The stew is best enjoyed with a crackling fire and a freshly decorated Christmas tree.

Indian Butter Chicken

Have I got a chicken recipe for you.



It all started last Sunday, when I met Amman, a very cool guy I was working on a freelance project with. Amman casually throws around phrases like “Search Engine Optimization” and “Blog content.” He has a few things to teach me about the powers of the Internet as they relate to writers from the stone age, who still keep a box of sharpened number two pencils at their desks (writers like me). But I have to say, the most important lesson Amman imparted at our meeting was how to make a proper Indian Butter Chicken. In fact, all talks of web design went out the window when he told me about this recipe and the wonderfully eccentric chef behind it, who you can check out here

I have a thing for Indian food. I love how the spices give a dish as simple as chicken in tomato sauce a jolt of exoticism. As if to say, “let’s make some magic.” I also have a thing for yoga, Jhumpa Lahiri and cows who walk around the streets undisturbed. I could have been Indian in another life (I also have a thing for reincarnation).

I know a fair share of you loathe Indian food, and I think that’s because you haven’t ordered the right things - or you're too afraid of curry. I admit, curry throws me off, too. Butter Chicken is very much like my favorite dish, Chicken Tikka Masala (which has no curry). If you like Indian food, Chicken Tikka Masala is probably your favorite dish, too. It's the Chicken and Broccoli of Indian food.

Amman's Butter Chicken replaces curry with cumin, coriander, ginger garlic paste and garam masala – the sorts of ingredients you need to go a special store to obtain. One that plays foreign music and has bundles of house-made tea and food you can’t pronounce. After Amman and I discussed blogging basics, he took me to a hole-in-the wall Indian spice store in the East Village who boasted the world’s hottest chili pepper. Amman bought one for a dollar, but I was too afraid. I hope he fared OK.

There was a big to-do when I got home, as I laid all my spices on the counter. David and I marveled at the bags, wondering what each spice smelled like and what we were going to do with it all. I have since learned that Fenugreek leaves do not keep well, so sadly, you'll probably have to throw out whatever you don't use here.

I have never fathomed making Indian food myself, for fear that I have no knack whatsoever at working with cumin seeds and masala powder. But this recipe is so simple and clear it its directives, it’s pretty impossible to screw up. And the final product is impressive. Like, "Damn this is delicious and I can't believe I actually made it" impressive. My Butter Chicken looked exactly like something I would get in an Indian restaurant, and I dare say, tasted better than some of the best Masala I've ever had. Maybe it was the house-blend garam masala from the secret spice store with the world's hottest chili. Or perhaps it was the Western addition of ketchup. Who knows. There was so much goodness going on here, I couldn’t pinpoint the deliciousness to one particular ingredient. All I know is, this dish is good. So, so good. And I am very glad I met Amman.




Indian Butter Chicken
Adapted from Sanjay Thumma

Note: It seems Indian chefs don't believe in measurements. They're of the "a handful of this" a "pinch of that" variety. For those of us afraid of overdoing the cumin and coriander, Amman has graciously provided measurements. Follow this recipe exactly, and you will have one fine Butter Chicken.

Ingredients
1 ½ lb boneless, skinless chicken breast, sliced into two-inch strips
1 large, white onion, roughly chopped
3 Tbs olive oil (vegetable or canola will work, too)
2 Tbs ginger-garlic paste, divided PLUS an additional 2 tsp, divided
1 Tbs red chili powder PLUS an additional tsp, divided
1 Tbs coriander powder PLUS an additional tsp, divided
1 tsp cumin seeds
A handful of dried Fenugreek leaves
1 14.5 oz can of crushed or diced tomatoes
half a stick of unsalted butter
1/2 c heavy cream
2 Tbs ketchup
1 tsp sugar
2 Tbs salt, divided
1 tsp garam masala

Place chicken in a bowl and add 2 tablespoons of ginger garlic paste, 1 Tbs red chili powder, 1 Tbs coriander powder and 1 Tbs salt. Mix together and set aside. Heat oil in sauce pan or Dutch oven on Medium-High heat. Once hot, add chicken. Cook chicken in pan for 3-5 minutes, making sure it does not cook all the way through. It will cook fully once it’s submerged in the sauce. Remove the chicken from the pan without taking the oil out. This is important, because the leftover oil flavors the sauce immensely. Place chicken on a plate to the side. The oil remaining in the pan should be a rich brown in color – if it’s not, add more coriander powder. With the oil and spices still in the pan, add cumin seeds, onions, 2 tsp of ginger-garlic paste and 4-6 oz water to thin the sauce a bit. Stir for five minutes, then add 1 tsp coriander powder and 1 tsp red chili powder. Take Fenugreek leaves and rub them in your hands over the pot, so they form a powder. Finally, add the tomatoes. Cover sauce and let boil for 5 minutes. Remove the cover, and let sit for at least 10 minutes. This is critical, because hot liquids expand in blenders, and you’ll end up with a huge, steamy mess if you don’t let the sauce cool substantially before blending it. Once the sauce is moderately cool, pour it into the blender and run on high for a minute or two. You can also leave the sauce in the pan and use an immersion blender – just pour it into a bowl when you’re done. Add half a stick of butter to the empty pan, over medium-low heat. Take the chicken that has been sitting on the plate and drain the water/oil back into the pan. Add the sauce back into the pan. Add 2-4 more oz of water to the sauce to give it a silky, medium consistency. Add remaining Tbs salt, sugar, ketchup and heavy cream. Finally add the chicken back in to the pan, and sprinkle And add garam masala into the sauce. Stir and cook, covered for 10-15 minutes.

Something to Love

How do I put this delicately?

I’m not much of a football fan.

It’s not that I don’t get why other people enjoy it: I can appreciate the thrill of a touchdown, the feeling of community, the tears when someone really deserving wins a Heisman, the prophet that is Tim Tebow. It’s just that...I don’t know what the fuss is all about. People name their first born sons after football players, throw things out the window in fits of rage over a bad call, even get arrested in the name of their teams. There’s a jail in the Eagles’ stadium with its own presiding judge for crying out loud.

Having said all this, the man I love loves football. I think I’ve come a long way in terms of my understanding and – yes, I’ll say it – appreciation of the game. I met David in the Fall of 2007, smack in the middle of college football season. There are few things this man loves more than the South Carolina Gamecocks (this being one of them), and so I found myself cheering for the team on a number of chilly Saturdays at the Copper Door Tavern in Murray Hill. Admittedly, I found myself routing for the other team a lot of the time, because I didn’t know who was who. But I will say that seeing David's devotion to his team was not only endearing, it was inspiring. I don't think many people know that kind of love. Flash forward three years, and Steve Spurrier, Marcus Lattimore, Stephon Gilmore and Alshon Jeffery are household names for the both of us. I should also note that I date the kind of guy who would name his first-born after one of these guys, and may have promised a few people that he would.

Two weeks ago, when South Carolina beat Alabama in what I have been told (by some biased fans) was the most amazing game in the history of college football, I found myself jumping for joy in a Mississippi dive bar. If that’s not evidence of true love, I don’t know what is. I’ve even begun to understand phrases like “bump and run,” “drop back” and “fair catch,” and why people cheer even when their players have been tackled. It’s all about getting to the end zone.

Where am I going with all of this? I’ll tell you. For the past few years, I’ve embraced football by making it an excuse to have people over for snacks. We may like different teams - and some of us might not even like football - but we can all get behind good food. Sometimes I make bruscetta, sometimes I bake biscuits with cheddar cheese and dill, and once there were slow-cooked French Dips on baguettes (that was an important game). But I have never made anything that can hold a candle to David’s Game Day Chili. Leave it to a boy from the South to have a chili recipe so utterly perfect. It is a party of pinto beans, green chilies, paprika, hot sauce and a can of dark beer for good measure (if you ask me, I think this is the secret ingredient). Looking at this recipe for the first time, throwing all these ingredients together seems risky. There's a lot going on. But somehow, they all truly complement one another. This chili is also my favorite left over meal. Reheat it on a Sunday night to keep the blues at bay.

This chili makes every game more special: the touchdowns become more glorious, the high-fives more emphatic. Even if your team loses, you still feel like you’ve won.

Now that’s something to love.

David’s Game Day Chili
Adapted from the St. George Church Cookbook

I’ve been asked to give the recipe’s original creator, Arthur Dukes, a shout out. According to David, he’s a swell guy. And I can tell you he's one fantastic cook.

2 lbs. ground ground turkey
1 med. onion, chopped
3 to 4 garlic cloves, minced
2 (15-oz) cans pinto beans, rinsed and drained
3 (8-oz) cans tomato sauce
1 (12-oz) bottle dark beer (David likes Brooklyn Lager)
1 (14.5-oz) can beef broth
1 (6-oz) can tomato paste
1 (4.5-oz) can chopped green chilies
2 tablespoons chili powder
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
2 tsp. ground cumin
1 to 2 tsp ground red pepper
1 tsp paprika
1 tsp hot sauce

Cook first three ingredients in a Dutch oven over medium heat, stirring until meat crumbles and is no longer pink. Break up the meat with a wooden spoon to aid in the browning. Drain cooked meat in a colander. Combine meat, beans, and next 11 ingredients in a Dutch oven and bring to a boil. Reduce heat, and simmer for at least three hours. In our experience, the longer the chili simmers, the better. Last week, David started cooking at 11 am for a six o’clock kick off. It was the best chili yet.

I like my chili served over rice with a dollop of sour cream and some grated cheddar cheese. A slice or two of jalapeno pepper adds a nice kick, though this chili is plenty spicy for most people.