A Winter's Tale

Ok, I fess up. I haven’t been out of the house in 4 days. Sick as a dog and holding my son at arm’s length to avoid giving him whatever I’ve caught. He doesn’t seem to mind. He’s recently discovered his feet and is much more interested in grabbing them than me. Yesterday G. heroically hit the streets for sushi and a DVD of Ocean’s 11. I briefly considered going out myself, but knew I would meet our neighbor, I’ll call her Camille, in the hall – and I wasn’t quite prepared (in my snotty sniffly state) to be confronted with her admirable example– some might call it the gold standard – of casually but perfectly coiffed French womanhood.

Weeks like this are when the freezer gets cleaned out – when we are down to our last container of frozen lentils of indeterminate date. The best of the stash was last week’s daube – a long simmering dish of beef cheeks, red wine and chestnuts – to which I added the juice and the peel of a good size navel orange.

With a recipe like this, the goal is twofold – one, to leave the oven on all day cause it’s so frigid in the apartment. As G. is often (but not always) too kind to point out, this is all my fault – for refusing to change our lovely but drafty old-school Parisian windows. Two, to fill the apartment with a mulled wine aroma that makes me feel like I’m in a chalet in Chamonix and not digging for my migraine medicine in the back of the linen closet and using a roll of toilet paper instead of a box of tissues.

I first tasted this particular daube at jewel box of a restaurant in our neighborhood, La Mamere au Piano – there are only 10 or 12 tables, and if you move your chair out at the wrong moment, you risk getting a flan de courgettes in your lap. But the food is thoughtful and well prepared, an iteration of the “grandma’s cooking” phenomenon that has been sweeping Paris these past few years.

Braised dishes are dead simple – variations on a theme. All you need is one decent pot with a tight fitting cover. I have become deeply attached to my cherry red Le Cresuet. Brown the meat, sauté your base veggies, add the wine or stock, herbs and spices – and sit on the whole thing for a couple of hours. Even better if you leave it to cool overnight. Or freeze it for a day when you can barely get out of bed.

Daube with Beef Cheeks, Chestnuts, Red Wine and Orange

I normally make my daube with garlic and a bit of tomato – but I think it this is set to become my new favorite – the gelatin in the beef cheeks thickens the sauce – the orange doesn’t sweeten - just makes the whole thing smell like heaven.

3 good size beef cheeks – chuck, brisket or other braising cut will work (3-4 lbs of meat)
Coarse sea salt
Olive oil
2 onions, chopped
1 navel orange (preferably organic) the peel taken off in two large strips, then cut in half
1 bottle of full-bodied red wine – a busty Cote du Rhone is my choice
1 bay leaf
8-10 sprigs of fresh thyme – or about ½ teaspoon dried.
1 large jar of whole roasted chestnuts, 12-16 oz.
1 pounds of small turnips, trimmed and left whole (optional - but great)

Preheat the oven to 325F.

In a large Dutch oven, brown the meat well on all sides, season generously with sea salt. Remove the meat and set aside. Add a bit of olive oil to the pot, add the onions and orange peel. Sauté for 4-5 minutes until just beginning to color. Add the wine and put the meat back into the pot with a bay leaf and the thyme. Squeeze in the juice of your navel orange. Tuck most of the chestnuts around the meat (save a few for garnish). Bring to a boil. Cover, and transfer to the oven for 3 ½ -4 hours, until the meat is fork tender. If adding the turnips, add them about an hour before the end. I usually put the daube out to cool on the windowsill and serve it the next day.

Slice the meat on the diagonal; serve with egg noodles, polenta or simply a loaf of crusty bread.

Serves 6