16 November 2001
Last year: Lots of distractions, none of which are really interesting enough or mentally consuming enough to write about.
So you're poking around in the kitchen, looking for something to make for dinner because you really think you should stop eating out so often - and also because you're just too tired to contemplate going back out again.
You open the freezer, and you see a package of stew beef chunks that you'd bought almost a month ago, on a whim. I should really do something with that soon. You start to close the freezer door, then your brain gives you a good swift kick in the antebellum.
I suppose I could do something novel like... make stew with it. You check the clock. It's not quite 4:30. Plenty of time to make a stew and give it the requisite couple of hours to simmer.
You put the package of meat on the counter, and you start poking around in the refrigerator. You open the vegetable bins, pull out a large onion, and put it on the counter. You pull out a package of carrots and wince at the rubbery texture, then throw them away.
You open the other bin, and find the other package of carrots. These are fresher, and they go on the counter. You look in the door shelves, certain that you have cooking wine somewhe- Ah, there it is, behind everything else... Hmm. You thought you had some burgundy wine, but merlot will have to do. The small bottle goes on the counter.
What else goes into beef stew? Potatoes? Good thought - use up the canned ones that have been sitting in the pantry for a year. Green beans? There are some in the freezer. You pull the bag out and cut it open... No good - the beans are all shrivelled and yellowish. Freezer-burnt, damn it all. You throw out the green beans and make a mental note to stop buying frozen vegetables unless you have a specific use in mind immediately.
You poke around in the pantry again. Oh, peas. Peas is a good thing to have in stew. You put the can of peas next to the can of potatoes on the counter.
You look at the sink and sigh - the dishes are completely blocking the sink and disposal. You open up the dishwasher, only to realize it's full of clean dishes. You are too lazy to put the clean dishes away, so you hand-wash just enough of the dishes in the sink to open up the side with the disposal. While you're at it, you wash the pot you'll need to make the stew in, and put it on the back burner of the stove.
You fish out a frying pan and pour a little oil in the bottom, and turn on the heat while you chop the onion and carrots. Those go into the frying pan, and you stir them in between opening the assorted cans and defrosting the meat. When you can see that the onions are cooked through, you pour the onions and carrots into the pot.
You go back to the refrigerator for butter. Two tablespoons go into the frying pan, and when it's melted, you dump in the defrosted meat. As it sizzles, you sprinkle several spoonfuls of flour over it, and then some salt and pepper.
While the meat browns, you drain the peas and dump them into the pot. Then you cut up the potatoes and add them. (You stop occasionally and stir the meat, the smell of which is making your mouth water.) You fill a cup with hot water and two beef-boullion cubes, and put it in the microwave to boil.
When the meat is mostly browned, you pour it into the pot, and dump the frying pan into the sink, then move the stew pot to the front burner. You pour in the entire (two-serving) bottle of merlot. You stir the boullion until it's dissolved, and add that. You add just enough more water so that all the meat and vegetables are covered.
While it comes up to a simmer, you poke around in the spice cabinet. You add some salt and pepper. You throw in a little marjoram... A dash of rosemary. You contemplate the Italian spices and decide against them. You do add some garlic powder, though. Everything is better with garlic.
Garlic makes you think of Emeril, which makes you think of the "holy trinity" of cooking - carrots, onions, and celery. Carrot and onion you have, but you don't keep celery usually, because it goes bad too quickly. You do, however, keep celery salt. You sprinkle a generous amount of that into the pot.
You stir it all up and taste the broth from the end of the spoon. You make a face because you really don't like wine, and the merlot has a very strong flavor. You hope the cooking will transform that flavor, and put the lid on the pot. You hope the stew will be edible. You haven't actually measured out a single ingredient (except the two tablespoons of butter, which you only measured because you like to cut butter off the stick in even tablespoons) and you're not sure you've done the right thing by pouring in the whole bottle of wine; or that your choice of spices will work together.
You decide there's precious little you can do about it now, and resolve that if the stew is nasty, you will go out and get pizza. That decided, you go sit down and log into Instant Messenger.
About forty-five minutes later, you go back into the kitchen to test again. With relief, you note that the alcohol-flavor seems to have boiled out. The broth is still pretty thin, though, so you put a few spoonfuls of flour in a cup and add some cold water. You stir and mush until all the lumps are out of it, then pour it into the pot and put the lid back on.
You get back onto Instant Messenger, where a friend asks you what you'll be having with the stew.
"With?" you ask, confused.
Your friend prompts you with some suggestions: bread and butter; biscuits; salad; vegetables?
You muse that there are some biscuits left over from last night's dinner, but explain to your friend that really, the whole point of soups and stews is that everything you need for the meal is right there in one dish - meat, vegetables, starch... Why bother with salad or side vegetables?
Your friend is obviously amused by this approach, but lets it slide. This is why he is your friend.
Finally, around 6:30, you fish a ladle out of a drawer and fill two bowls.
It's good. A little salty - next time, you think, you will not add both salt and celery salt. But not too salty to eat, and while burgundy would have been a better wine, the merlot did its job of tenderizing the meat and adding richness to the broth.
Stew is filling, and there is enough left over for two tupperware containers. Hurrah, you think. There's tomorrow's lunch!
Later that evening, you get online with your friends, and wind up staying up so late that the next morning it actually seems like a good idea to write about making stew using the second-person present tense.
Word of the Day:
beleaguer - 1: to surround with an army so as to prevent escape; besiege, beset; 2: to hem in, bottle up; 3: to subject to oppressive or grievous forces; harass
Song of the Day:
Bad Day (Fuel)
Currently Reading:
- Infinity+
- Pilots Choice by Steve Miller and Sharon Lee