Oxtails Bourguignon
Now that's a pot of luscious real food. When I was a little kid, I loved oxtail soup, a hearty German dish that uses a rather low-class cut from the beast: the tail, the little sections of vertebrae that are stocked with chuck-like meat, lots of collagen, and some pretty good opportunities for gnawing.
In other words, heaven. And as with all forms of paradise, a struggle. Bliss is a journey--and not always easy.
Over the last year, Bruce and I have wrestled with some of the ethics of eating meat. After I went on an L. A. NPR show to talk about the ham book (here), I was besieged by some rather militant vegans who insisted that I come to terms with the ethics of being, well, not a carnivore, but an omnivore.
Unfortunately, no matter how much I tried to explain our ever-evolving position, they wouldn't listen. I hope you might. Bruce and I have come to a few conclusions over the past year.
1. We (almost exclusively) eat meat from local suppliers at farmers' markets and farms. Unfortunately, this guideline falls apart when we go into heavy recipe-testing mode. There's no way we can crank out fifteen pork recipes for a magazine only buying what our friends have on their farm.
2. I only eat meat once a day, and not always then. Bruce isn't with me on this one, but I've come to the conclusion that I feel better and am more alert if I have fewer meat moments in my day. This is a personal decision. I have NO scientific basis for knowing that I feel better. But I believe it. And believing makes it so.
3. If we're going to eat meat, we're going to eat all of an animal. This one's a little harder for most people. But we've come to the decision that it's ethically wrong to kill an animal just to eat the tenderloin and certain prime cuts. No, we need to eat as much of the animal as possible. Because for us, if we don't, a life has been wasted for silly excess.
And so oxtails. AKA, sheer delight. One of my favorite things. Here's the recipe:
First, position the rack so that your large pot or Dutch oven can fit on the highest rank of the rake possible and still have a couple inches of headspace. Remove the pot from the oven and preheat the oven to 300F.
Next, brown about 5 pounds beef oxtails in batches 3 tablespoons rendered bacon fat in that pot or Dutch oven set over medium heat.
I realize that rendered bacon fat may not be a common ingredient in your house. And why not? Next time you fry up a panful, keep that fat in a jar in the fridge. It, too, is part of the animal. And it, too, should be savored, every drop of it.
By the way, as I've said a zillion times on this blog, really brown those oxtails. Don't skimp. Brown is flavor. No doubt about it.
Transfer the oxtails to a big bowl, then dump in about 1/2 pound pearl onions. A confession: Bruce uses frozen pearl onions, already peeled. He doesn't even thaw them--right from the freezer to the pot.
Once they're golden brown, add 2 minced garlic cloves, stir the stuff around a bit, and pour in 1/2 cup brandy.
It may flame up. If so, cover the pot and take it off the heat for a few minutes. Otherwise, keep stirring over the heat until the brandy has been reduced by about half.
Stir in 2 cups red wine, 1 teaspoon dried thyme, 1 teaspoon dried marjoram, 1 teaspoon dried sage, 1 teaspoon mild paprika, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper, 1/4 teaspoon ground allspice, and 2 bay leaves. Stir that over the heat until the wine comes to a full boil, scraping up any browned bits on the pot's interior bottom.
Stir in the oxtails and any juice in their bowl. Then pour in about 4 cups water, enough to come about halfway up the pot. Cover the pot and shove it in the oven for 2 hours.
Stir in 6 large carrots, cut into 2-inch chunks, 2 tablespoons tomato paste, and 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce. Stir well, then cover the pot, put it back in the oven, and continue to cook until the meat on the oxtails is fork-tender, about 2 more hours, stirring occasionally.
And that's about it. Bruce wanted to serve it over polenta. I wanted mashed potatoes. Either will work. Or neither. Because oxtails don't need much of anything to make them fantastic with every bite.
Mark Scarbrough | Posted on Tuesday, April 27, 2010 at 11:08AM | in Comfort Food, Hunks of Meat, Main Courses
Reader Comments (3)
This looks absolutely delicious! I love slow cooked bony cuts of meat - osso bucco, lamb's neck, all of them. Last night we made something similar with chopped up veal neck and paprika. Your recipe looks like a definite keeper - no frozen pearl onions here, so I'm assuming I have to peel baby ones? :)
On the issue of meat, I'm in agreement - I think if you're going to eat meat (which we do), then you need to eat as much of the beast as possible. We can't really afford to eat organic meat at the moment as it's often prohibitively expensive, but all the meat we eat is free range, with the exception of imported products such as Italian prosciutto (and it might be, I just have no way of finding out). I think it's important to have some idea of how the meat is raised - for example, organic (particularly in the case of chicken) does not always equate to free range, and to me, the quality of life of the beast is the most important consideration.
i adore this dish, to the last drop. i usually use oxtails and neck bones to make stock, what a wonderful ideea this is! and i completely agree with your take on meat ethic. we must use every part of the animal. i can't stand to see food wasted. periodically i take a break from meat. i don't know if i feel better, really, but it's just something i have to do. in college i had the longest of said breaks, around 7 months. it has nothing to do with ethics or beliefs, it's simply what my body wants. when i miss it, i eat it. less breaks in the past few years, as my husband doesn't understand a meatless plate. but i sure do appreciate it more after a few days without.
good luck tonight. any chance for us in chicago to see you talk about ham?
No chance in Chicago, Dana--but many more events coming up across the country. (Would I love to come to Chicago again or what? I lived there when I was 8 until I was 10--in Arlington Heights, actually. And I went to grad school in Madison, Wisconsin.)
I agree, Celia, that organic stuff is ridiculous. But less is definitely more--although cost is again of the essence.
Yeah, you'll be peeling pearl onions. Easier, of course, to drop them first in boiling water for 20 seconds to slip off their skins.
M.