Stirring It Up with Molly Ivins (31 page)

BOOK: Stirring It Up with Molly Ivins
13.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Upon hearing the end of my cassoulet story, I recall, Molly said something along the lines of “Oh, goody!,” but it might really have been more like “Hot damn!” and clapped her hands at the thought of spending two and a half days making this wonderful wintertime casserole.

I didn't have the heart to tell her I took shortcuts—I used canned cannellini beans, rinsed, of course—and canned tomatoes. At least they were San Marzanos. Even with shortcuts, preparation takes a nice chunk of time.

But no, Molly had to buy flageolets, the French white bean that dates to the nineteenth century. She then soaked and gently simmered them with salt pork and a ham hock. My contribution consisted of cutting the ham hocks into pieces once the meat was falling off the bone, then sautéing kielbasa in rendered duck fat. Naturally we also had to have duck confit. Once again, as I saw what was to have been Saturday supper fading into Sunday dinner, I realized an early Monday-morning departure for the drive back to Dallas was definitely in my future. Eating a bean stew laced with white wine, pork, and duck and then driving two hundred miles afterward was quite out of the question.

The meats had to be browned separately—as did the onions, garlic, and celery. Molly's response to my search for dried thyme leaves prompted a detour to her atrium herb patch to snip fresh sprigs.

Oh—did I mention we were making
Julia
's cassoulet?

Dear God, what was I thinking?

Assembling the layers of beans, meat, and vegetables required that they be topped with bread crumbs.

You know what's coming, don't you? Dry bread in the oven, melt butter, chop fresh parsley (I'm sure it's not necessary to say my version has dried parsley and seasoned Progresso bread crumbs), and generously sprinkle the homemade bread crumbs atop the casserole just before committing it to a preheated oven.

It took less time to film
Gone with the Wind
.

Sometimes we just chopped; sometimes we just sautéed. Whether creating cassoulet or making meat loaf, we talked about food as therapy, sustenance, community, social glue.

We wondered why so many mani-pedi shops were run by Vietnamese.

We laughed about the incongruity of the phrase “jumbo shrimp” or how you can search the “four corners” of a round earth.

We bemoaned the decline of the language, trying to figure out how something could be “one of the only” anything. We wondered where on the color spectrum Karl Rove's conscience would fall. She said mauve. My vote went to dog-turd brown.

We lamented the extent to which political correctness had corrupted the honest exchange of information.

At one point halfway through day two we were pretty much done with de-constructing obtuse topics, as evidenced by Molly turning to me and saying,
with a mischievous eyelash flutter and badly concealed humor, “Whose stupid idea was this, anyway? We ought to be having de Gaulle to dinner and not some gang of reprobates.”

Of course we still had no idea which reprobates would consume our masterpiece, so we started off determined to invite people we hadn't included before, but decided in the end we really wanted the same crew we always turned to.

They were blown away that we'd made this incredible one-pot meal just for them, this marvelous amalgam of flavors and textures that commands a hefty price in French restaurants—where, I promise you, only the highest of high-end eateries go to the trouble we went to. And that, in my humble opinion, makes cassoulet a bargain at twice the price.

Remember this if you're fortunate enough to find it on a menu.

A bargain at twice the price.

CASSOULET, SORTA

 

Go ahead and wade through Julia Child's recipe if you're channeling her or Molly. You want duck? You got bucks? Fine. Buy duck breast or confit already prepared. Buy
Julia's Menus for Special Occasions
or tuck into all five pages of the original recipe from
Mastering the Art of French Cooking
, now in its zillionth printing. But I promise you, my way is easier, equally satisfying, and can be assembled in an afternoon. Nonetheless, cassoulet, like any other stew, is better if it sits overnight. My version is for people who love to cook but don't have the kind of time women in 1950s Paris—or America—had. All this dish needs is a hearty red wine, a green salad, a baguette, and fresh fruit for dessert. Trot out your specially designed baguette pan and make your own if you're so inclined. Me, I want to do my part to keep pastry chefs employed.

INGREDIENTS

8 slices good smoked bacon

3 celery stalks, chopped

4 large garlic cloves, minced or put through a press

3 small carrots, sliced diagonally

2 yellow onions, chopped, divided use

1 15-ounce can diced tomatoes

3 cups chicken stock

1 cup dry white wine

2 bay leaves

1 tablespoon dried thyme

½ cup dried parsley, divided use

4 14-ounce cans cannellini beans, thoroughly rinsed

8
bone-in
chicken thighs

Kosher salt and black pepper

¼ cup rendered duck fat (available from fine grocery stores)

1 pound smoked sausage

1½ cups seasoned bread crumbs

½ cup unsalted butter, melted

DIRECTIONS

In a nonstick skillet, fry bacon slowly, allowing it to render its fat. When bacon is crisp, remove it to paper towels and set aside to cool.

Pour rendered fat into a large stockpot. Sauté celery, garlic, carrots, and
half
of the onions until vegetables are soft. Add tomatoes, stock, wine, bay leaves, thyme, and half of the parsley. Simmer uncovered for 15 minutes. Add beans and reserved bacon strips, crumbled. Remove from heat and set aside.

Allow chicken thighs to come to room temperature and rub them with salt and pepper.

In a large skillet heat the duck fat. Brown chicken thighs on both sides and set them aside on a platter.

Slice sausage and sauté with the remaining onions until onions are translucent. Remove chicken from bones in chunks. Discard skin.

Preheat oven to 300°F.

Stir contents and correct seasonings.

In a large casserole, ladle in some of the tomato-bean mixture. Arrange chicken and sausage on top and continue alternating beans and meat until you finish with a layer of beans, leaving about ½ inch at the top. Finish with bread crumbs. Drizzle butter over the top. Bake, uncovered, for 1 hour. Remove from oven and allow casserole to cool. Refrigerate overnight. The next day place casserole in a cold oven. Bring oven to 325°F and remove the casserole once it is bubbling. Break down the crust, forcing bread crumbs into the casserole. Add stock if mixture looks too dry. Sprinkle remaining parsley on top. Return to oven and bake until a second crust forms. Remove casserole and let it rest for 10 minutes before serving. Serves 6 to 8.

NOT QUITE JULIA CHILD'S BOEUF BOURGUIGNON

 

This is the simplified version of the show-off beef stew that is a Julia Child hallmark. Hers is also, in my humble opinion, entirely too complicated. Molly and I at least agreed that the same effect could be achieved by going this simplified route. We debated whether it should be served with buttered, parsleyed boiled potatoes as the French probably would serve it, or with noodles. Molly was mortified that I even suggested rice, but I still say it is rice-worthy—after all, when all is said and done, it's only a very nice beef stew with wine. You will need a five-quart casserole.

This version has been modified a teensy tiny bit, But Molly, being the ardent Francophile that she was, would tolerate only so much fiddling with Julia's recipes. On the other hand, one can now buy frozen pearl onions, and there are exquisite frozen baby carrots that can be added at the last minute. Once again, I say, not everyone has the kind of time Julia and Molly were willing to invest in meal preparation. You decide what works for you. Finally, if you think this is time-consuming, try making Julia's original version from scratch! This recipe pairs well with Beaujolais, Côtes du Rhône, or, of course, Burgundy.

INGREDIENTS

6-ounce chunk of salt pork

1 tablespoon grapeseed (or canola) oil

3 pounds lean stewing beef, cut into 2-inch cubes

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon black pepper

3 tablespoons flour 3 cups of a full-bodied, young red wine (not cooking wine; a Burgundy suitable for drinking)

2 to 3 cups organic beef stock

3 garlic cloves put through a press

1 teaspoon dried thyme (or three 3-inch fresh sprigs)

1 large bay leaf

1 pound fresh mushrooms, quartered 3 cups frozen baby carrots

10-ounce package of frozen pearl onions

¼ cup chopped fresh parsley

Parsley sprigs

DIRECTIONS

Preheat oven to 400°F.

Cut salt pork into 1-inch slivers about ½-inch thick. Simmer, covered, for 10 minutes in 2 cups water. Drain and pat dry. Set liquid aside.

Sauté salt pork in oil over moderate heat long enough to brown lightly. Remove to a side dish with a slotted spoon.

Reheat fat until it is almost smoking before you sauté beef. Pat beef dry using paper towels; it will not brown if damp. Sauté, a few pieces at a time, in the hot fat until browned on all sides.

Return beef and salt pork to the casserole and toss with the salt and pepper. Sprinkle the flour on and toss again to coat the beef lightly. Toss beef 4 or 5 minutes more. (This browns the flour and covers the meat with a light crust.)

Stir in wine and enough stock to barely cover the beef. Add garlic and herbs. Bring to simmer on top of the stove. Cover the casserole and set in lower third of preheated oven.

Immediately reduce heat to 300°F and cook for 2 to 2½ hours or until meat is tender. Check to make sure there is enough liquid. Remove casserole and distribute mushrooms, carrots, and pearl onions over the meat. Simmer for a minute or two, skimming fat as it rises. You should have about 2½ cups of sauce thick enough to coat a spoon lightly. If too thin, boil it down rapidly. If it's too thick, mix in a few tablespoons of stock. Correct seasonings.

Cover casserole and simmer for 5 minutes, basting meat and vegetables with the sauce several times. Serve with potatoes, noodles, or rice. Garnish with parsley sprigs. Serves 6.

29

Other books

It Had Been Years by Malflic, Michael
What's Left of Me by Kat Zhang
Coming Up Roses by Duncan, Alice
Inevitable by Heiner, Tamara Hart
Every Seven Years by Denise Mina
Horus Rising by Dan Abnett
The Traveling Vampire Show by Laymon, Richard