Beer Braised Pot Roast with Mushrooms
When I first met Bruce, he wouldn't touch beef chuck. He thought it was too cheeky, too fatty, too much of everything. A great chef or not, he might have cooked it--but he wouldn't eat it. He was too busy being a waif-thin New Yorker.
Leave it to a good Southern boy to change his mind.
Nothing spells dinner like pot roast. It's what we had after church on Sundays, for holidays meals, for no reason at all.
Except ours was a tad gummy. We often had it out of the pressure cooker. And so we lost the most important parts: the browning and the long braising--which infuses every bit of that melting fat and collagen with flavor.
So here's a meal that can change a New Yorker's mind, that can keep him at the table: that chuck roast, cooked in a streamlined version of the famous Belgian stew, carbonnade flamande.
First, set the rack in the oven so that your covered, flame-safe roasting pan can fit in there with a couple inches headspace. Preheat the oven to 325F.
Set the roasting pan over medium heat and add 3 ounces chopped bacon. Stir it around until the fat renders out (now we're talking) and the bacon is crisp. Use a slotted spoon to transfer the bacon to a big bowl, leaving the fat behind. (Oh, come on--you know you want to.)
Tie a 3 1/2 to 4 pound beef chuck roast around its middle once with butchers' twine to help the thing hold its shape as it braises, then set it in the pot and brown it on all sides, about 12 minutes, maybe even up to 15. Don't skimp here. Brown is flavor. Period. This is the hardest part of the whole ordeal. So brown it. Grayed meat is blech.
Once the roast is browned, transfer it to the bowl with the bacon, then put 1 1/2 cups frozen pearl onions into the pot. No need to thaw them--just dump them in and stir them around over the heat until they start to brown at the edges, about 3 minutes.
Then stir in 8 ounces sliced mushrooms, 2 tablespoons minced rosemary, 1 tablespoon stemmed thyme, and 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the mushrooms release their liquid and it boils down to a glaze, about 6 minutes or so.
Dump in 2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce and 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard, stir well, and then pour in a 12-ounce bottle of dark beer. Yes, it'll foam and froth. You can't avoid the rabid-dog look in the pot. But stir it down until it comes to a good simmer, getting all the browned bits up from the bottom of the pot.
Pour the bacon back into the pot and nestle the roast into the sauce. It's probably best to start it out with a cut side down, rather than sitting on its butchers' twine. Bring the whole kit and caboodle back to a simmer, then cover the pot and shove it in the oven.
And that's it. Braise it between 4 and 5 hours, until meltingly tender, turning the hunk every hour or so, just so it cooks evenly in the simmering liquid. That sauce will also boil down to a glaze--if it gets too low, add a little water to make sure it doesn't burn.
All that's left is to cut the meat into slices and chunks, ladling the sauce over the top.
And maybe add a side vegetable, too. Put peeled carrots in a 9 x 13-inch baking dish, coat them in a little olive oil, sprinkle on some salt and pepper, and roast uncovered for about 2 hours, until very tender, turning occasionally.
Now that's a meal that would bring even a waif-thin New Yorker to the table!
Mark Scarbrough | Posted on Friday, April 2, 2010 at 11:21AM | in Comfort Food, Hunks of Meat, Main Courses
Reader Comments (2)
Waif thin and black attire are over-rated. But this, this is a recipe that can warm your soul. :)
Love cooking red meats in beer - I have some Guinness which I keep for cooking (I know, bizarre, but I have a mean chocolate and Guinness cake recipe) - I think it would be perfect in this dish! Hmmmm. I was going to try and do lamb for Easter Sunday, but maybe it might need to be beef instead..
As always, thanks for the inspiration!
Celia: Guinness would be EXQUISITE in this dish. Crazy. But since the tastes are going to be bigger--both more umami and more sweet with the very dark beer--you might consider finishing the sauce with a little spike of rice vinegar or lemon juice, just to give it an acid balance.
Natch, we're doing ham. You could have guessed.
M.