BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Actually, to be perfectly honest, I didn’t know Aunt Ida at all. Never met the woman, and were she still around I wouldn’t recognize her if we bounced off of one another at the Galleria… Not that such would be likely, what with the fact that I absolutely despise shopping in malls – most especially the crowds – but, you get my drift.

However, the mysterious (to me) Aunt Ida was apparently ubiquitous in the lives of Evil Kat and all her siblings, and furthermore she left a lasting impression upon them… Well, upon E K, at least.

As I’ve mentioned in the past, my father-in-law is a minister, and therefore E K and her brothers grew up in and around Baptist churches throughout Saint Louis. I’m a bit sketchy on some of the details since I wasn’t there, but if I remember the story correctly, Aunt Ida, who was in no way, shape, or form of any blood relation to E K and her family, was a kindly older lady who often watched after the kids around one of the churches. And, in taking care of them she often saw to their meals.

Sounds like a perfectly wonderful Aunt Ida to me…

Anyway, fast forward several years. E K loses her halo, sprouts horns, and grows up to be an evil redhead. Somewhere along the line she meets up with me and becomes enamored of my Timex-like qualities (punctual, but moreover, can take a licking and keep on ticking.) So, being in need of a domestic servant/doormat/punching bag, E K takes out a contract and before you know it has signed on the dotted line of the State issued paperwork which guaranteed I would be indentured unto her for the rest of my natural life.

Still with me so far? Yeah, we’re coming back around to the whole Aunt Ida thing…

So there we were, about a year or so into my life sentence, when The Evil One began to wax nostalgic. I was in the midst of wrapping and bagging a ham bone from what else, a ham. It was sometime around the holidays as I recall. At any rate, I was wrapping up the ham bone in order to save it for use in a big ol’ pot of navy beans. Alas,  I was soon to discover that legumes of the “seafaring” variety were not to be in my future, because overcome with this attack of nostalgia the redhead proceeded to announce, “I really miss Aunt Ida’s green bean and ham stew.”

To begin with I asked, “Who’s Aunt Ida? Was she at the wedding?”

This was when I was given the thumbnail sketch of the mysterious Aunt Ida that I relayed to you in an above paragraph.

Accepting this explanation, and still being like a new puppy and all, I was eager to please my “Mistress”, so I asked, “Was that all that was in it, just green beans and ham?”

“No,” her evilness explained. “It was green beans, ham, and potatoes.”

Now it made a little more sense to me. However, it wasn’t making the same sense to me that it was making to E K. To understand what I mean, scroll back up and make note of her initial statement – green bean and ham stew.

Stew is quite obviously the operative word here. At this stage in our marriage I had not yet figured out that not only was E K a non-cook, she wasn’t well versed in the nomenclature of the kitchen either. As brilliant as the woman is, kitchen talk simply wasn’t her thing.

Now, just in case some of you fall into the same category – brilliant but not kitchen savvy – allow me to define stew:

A stew is food, generally meat and vegetables, though it can be all veggie, that has been cooked long and slow in a liquid and then is served in a resultant thickened gravy-like stock. The gravy consistency of a stew stock can be obtained by reduction, by adding a starch, or some combination thereof…

Remember that. It’s going to be extremely important later… In fact, the crux of this entire missive hinges upon it.

And so, being eager to please, I promptly… well, within the next day or two… took myself off to the grocery, obtained some fresh green beans, a sack of taters, and then dug out my giant, stainless steel stock pot. I prepped a simple stock, then added the ham bone. After cooking it to death and extracting the inedible portions (gristle, excess fat, and the bone itself), I tossed in the green beans and diced potatoes, proceeding to cook them to death as well, bringing the stew to a healthy boil so that the potatoes would disintegrate and the stock would reduce. See where I’m heading here? I turned it into a nice, thick, stew with bits of potato, ham, and green beans. Then, wagging my tail because I just knew I had done something that would make the redhead ecstatic, I served it up.

She ate it, but never cracked a smile. I began to worry. Finally, I asked what she thought.

She replied, “It was okay, but it’s not right.”

I was devastated, but resolved to fix the problem. “What isn’t right about it?” I asked. “I can change the recipe…”

“I don’t know,” said the redhead. “It just isn’t the same as Aunt Ida’s…”

Of course, I knew all too well that I would never in a million years be able to duplicate Aunt Ida’s stew exactly. After all, I wasn’t Aunt Ida. But, I was certain I could come close enough to bring a smile to The Evil One’s face. So, a few months later I returned to the drawing board. I had a fresh ham bone, so I gathered together the green beans and potatoes. I adjusted my seasonings, added extra ham, cooked it to death, and even did it up as a split batch so I could immersion blender the hell out of a batch of potatoes, heavy cream, and butter before folding the silky mixture into the pot full of ham and green beans. I was not going to allow Aunt Ida to best me, nor my evil bride to pine for something I should be able to easily duplicate. After all, in the kitchen I definitely “gots skillz” if I do say so myself…

With much trepidation I served up the creamy, piping hot stew to my wife. She ate it. Never smiled. Then, at the end of dinner slipped into a leather outfit and ordered me into the basement where I was then severely punished for preparing green bean and ham stew that just wasn’t the same as Aunt Ida’s…

This trend continued for a few years and each time the tortures became worse, with power garden implements, battery chargers connected to jumper cables, and sometimes even blowtorches, all while the Evil One screamed, “It’s Not The Same As Aunt Ida’s!”

I have to tell you, I was really beginning to despise Aunt Ida, and I’d never even met the woman…

So, ham bone time rolled around again and I was dreading a day spent in the kitchen concocting a new take on the stew that would only result in me making yet another trip to E Kay’s Basement Of Horrors. I was already seriously considering fixing up a batch of navy beans instead. That way, if I ended up being tortured anyway, at least I would have a meal that I wanted for a change.

Fortuitously however, the redhead had been ruminating over this whole Aunt Ida’s stew debacle, and was apparently feeling magnanimous.

“Lackey,” she called to me. “Come here!”

I skulked in from the kitchen, wondering if I was about to recieve a pre-stew beating just for good measure. “Yes, Oh Grand High Exalted One?”

“I’ve been thinking. The way I remember Aunt Ida’s Stew it wasn’t thick like you keep screwing up and making. It was brothier.”

Whistles tweeted, horns blared, bells rang, and a 250 Watt halogen bulb ignited above my head as I smiled. “Oh… So it’s not stew, it’s soup?”

She frowned, kicked me in the shin really hard with her pointy toed pump, then grabbed me by the hair and slapped me a few times just to be sure she had my attention as she instructed, “Don’t you dare question me, lackey. It’s stew.”

“Yes, ma’am…” I mumbled while hopping on one foot and holding my cheek (On my face, people. My face… Sheesh…).

“Now get in the kitchen and make me some stew. I’ll be in the basement sharpening a few things for later…”

And so I scurried off, however, being armed with this new and important information I took a quick detour to the store for a different kind of potato.  Something less mealy and with a firmer, waxier texture. Then, I came home, prepped a stock, cooked a ham bone to death, then added green beans. During the last 45 minutes or so, I cranked it and tossed in the diced potatoes and then served up the wonderfully “brothy” green bean,  ham and potato soup, complete with a pan of fresh cornbread.

E K ate the soup. E K smiled. E K purred. E K looked and acted like a little kid again. And, I didn’t have to go to the basement… (Well, not that night, anyway…)

To this day, her supreme evilness still refers to this dish as Aunt Ida’s Stew, even though it is in point of fact a soup, not a stew. Well, I am not about to correct her, because we know what will happen if I do. All I can say is that it is far less work than I had been putting myself through before the serendipitous revelation, and when you consider the fact that Aunt Ida was watching after a whole raft of kids – the young version of her supreme evilness included – it’s no wonder she employed the KISS principle. I should have recognized that from the outset, but back then I wasn’t a parent, and well, we all know that hindsight is 20-20.

The long and short of it is this – Aunt Ida’s Stew is probably as close as it gets to number 1 on E Kay’s hit parade when it comes to comfort food from my kitchen.

Aunt Ida’s Green Bean-Potato-Ham “Stew”

(Serves 8 – 12 Adults or 1 Evil Redhead)

You will need: Tongs, a 20 quart stock pot, large colander (preferably stainless steel), large mixing bowl to accommodate colander, patience

Ingredients:

1 Large Ham Shank and Bone (The shank and bone from a good sized spiral cut ham works famously)

4 Cups Ham, Diced (Reserved from the cut ham at the outset, or purchased separately – I’ve done both)

2 -3 Lbs Fresh Green Beans, cleaned, stemmed, and snapped into 2 inch pieces

3 Lbs Waxy Red Potatoes, Peeled and cut into 1 1/2″ to 2 ” Cubes

1/2 Cup Apple Cider Vinegar

6 Cloves Garlic

2 Medium Yellow Onions

6 Ribs Celery

3-4 Large Carrots

2 Tbsp Olive or Vegetable Oil

Cooking Directions:

Begin by chopping carrots, onions, and celery into 1/2 inch to 1 inch pieces. Those of you who have taken a turn or two around the kitchen will recognize this as Mirepoix – the holy trinity of aromatic veggies that is the basis for many dishes, especially stocks and broths.

Crush the garlic cloves.

Heat your stock pot and add the cooking oil (olive or vegetable). Coat bottom of stock pot, then add Mirepoix and garlic. Sweat the vegetables over medium heat until they begin to become translucent – 5-7 minutes. Raise heat for a few minutes and stir until they begin to caramelize. Add Ham Shank and Bone to pot, then pour in cold water until bone is completely covered. Raise heat and bring to a rolling boil. After 10 – 15 minutes, lower heat to a simmer and partially cover, making sure to leave a gap for steam so that it doesn’t boil over. Salt and pepper to taste, add apple cider vinegar. Allow to simmer for 3 to 4 hours, checking occasionally, and adding water to return to near original volume when necessary.

After 3 – 4 hours, remove from heat. Remove bone and shank, set aside to cool. Once broth has cooled somewhat, strain out cooked Mirepoix and return broth to stock pot. Once bone and shank have cooled sufficiently (you can place them in the refrigerator to hasten the process) use a fork, or your hands (my preference) to pick off the edible meat and return it to the pot with the broth. Discard cartilage, excess fat, and bone.

Return broth to heat, add green beans – these should have already been cleaned, stemmed, and snapped into 2 inch pieces. Bring to a boil for 15 minutes. Then, carefully add cubed potatoes and diced ham. Allow broth to return to a boil for 10 minutes, then lower heat to a simmer. Cook for another 30 to 40 minutes.

Re-season with salt and pepper.

Serve with a pan of cornbread or fresh yeast rolls.

Notes:

Sometimes when it is necessary for me to prepare this – i.e. the redhead needs a fix – and I don’t have a ham bone handy, nor do I wish to purchase a large ham in order to obtain one, I will fix up a smaller batch using a small ham shank and 2 or 3 smoked hocks, which are readily available in most supermarket meat departments and are fairly inexpensive. It’s not exactly the same, but the resultant beating is far less severe than it would be otherwise.

More to come…

Murv

PS. I feel compelled to throw a random disclaimer in from time to time, so here it is: If you are new to this blog and are unfamiliar with the satirical bent with which I portray my gorgeous, redheaded bride of 22+ years, don’t take things so seriously. Simply click on any highlighted E K link and read about her. She’s an absolute doll who deserves a halo just for playing along, and furthermore, for putting up with me.

No, I’m not talking about baseball, I’m talking about steak. But, we’ll get to that in a minute. First, let’s chase a different chicken…

A segment of my life I occasionally mention, but never have spoken about overmuch is that I used to shoot competition archery. I was never a big fan of baseball, football, basketball, or any of the other balls out there, although I did – and still do – thoroughly enjoy Hockey. Therefore, I wasn’t one of those sons who would sit and watch a game on the tube with ol’ Dad, or compare stats, or wonder about the significance of Joe Quarterback’s knee injury where it related to the rest of the team.

Just not my thing…

However, while my father was a sports fan, he wasn’t exactly a rabid sports fan, therefore he sought a middle ground where the two of us could relate and do father/ son stuff together. So, back in the early 70’s, he joined the Archery Club at McDonnell Douglas, where he worked. I quickly became interested in the sport, as I suspect he had hoped, and soon joined with him. From early on through the mid-late 70’s, Dad and I shot on indoor league teams as well as in outdoor bowhunting tournaments. While we weren’t “Robin Hoods” by any stretch of the imagination, we were both fairly respectable shooters, bringing home several trophies and awards during that span of time.

But, as usual, Archery isn’t what this particular blog entry is about. It is, however, a bit of a trailhead for where we are really wanting to go, which is as mentioned earlier, food. It is also about yet another of E Kay’s favorite dishes from my kitchen.

Still, we aren’t quite done with bows and arrows just yet…

You see, I’ve made no secret of the fact that I am from the South. (Don’t worry, the subject change whiplash will wear off, trust me)… And, in the South, we do things a bit differently than folks (that being, “Yankees”) do in the North. This most definitely extends to food in almost every sense.

Back to the curved wood with string and pointy sticks with feathers… During the period of time when Dad and I were at the height of our shooting, we had occasion to be on a team at a National Bowhunting Tournament held in Indiana. It was held on an old strip mine site, and we also manned a booth for an association called Bowhunters Who Care – this is actually where I met Ted Nugent, but that’s yet another story. The point being that we camped on the site for three days while shooting in the tournament, and there was a chow house where we were able to get hot meals since this took place during a time of year when the weather was a bit chilly in the early mornings and late evenings.

The menu was posted outside each day, and one frosty, see-your-breath-morning it made note that supper that evening was to be Swiss Steak. Well, as it happens I love Swiss Steak and I looked forward to that meal the whole day while we were traipsing through the woods, launching arrows at 3d foam targets from precarious perches on tree stands and such. My mind was so occupied with the thought of a plate of Swiss Steak, in fact, that on an 80 yard shot, I nailed a life size target of a black bear right in the kneecap because my mouth was watering and I was drooling all over my kisser button (an aiming aid on bowstrings).

So, imagine my utter shock, surprise, and overall disappointment when that evening my Chinette Oval contained a slab of tasteless inedible gristle smothered in a brownish, and equally tasteless gravy. This was not the Swiss Steak I had been eating for my decade and a half of life on this planet… It was… well… crap.

And so, dear readers, this blog is about Swiss Steak. A commoners low budget meal that warms the heart as well as the stomach, and has become a standing request from E K for her birthday meal every year. Much like the Chili E Kay’s Way of a previous blog entry, when I serve this I definitely don’t get beat by the evil redhead. In fact, this one is so far up on her hit parade that after dinner she rolls around on the sofa with a ball of yarn and purrs so loudly that the windows rattle. It’s kinda cute, actually, but don’t tell her I said that. She hates being called “cute”…

So, anyway, before getting into the recipe proper, let’s have a look at why what those folks in Indiana slopped onto my plate thirty-odd years ago differs so much from the Swiss Steak for which the E K will turn momentarily kittenish.

Swiss Steak, in and of itself, is not actually a particular cut of meat – although you will sometimes actually find Chuck Arm Steaks or Boneless Shoulder Steaks labeled “Swiss Steak”. The name of the dish also has nothing at all to do with neutral timepiece making countries or cheese with holes in it. It actually refers to “Swissing,” which is a process in which fabrics were flattened between rollers. I know, I know, what does rolling fabric have to do with cooking steak? Well, I’ll tell you – “Swissing” a steak is the process of tenderizing it between hammer rollers, thereby creating what we most often see in the supermarket meat section billed as “cubed steak”.

While cubed steak is a perfectly acceptable choice for making Swiss Steak, most cooks (those I know, at least) will choose the aforementioned Chuck Arm, Boneless Shoulder, or in the majority of cases, Round Steak. Then, to start off the process they will either ask the butcher to run their selection through the cuber, or will take it home and beat the living crap out of it with a tenderizing mallet. Personally, I opt for method number 2 myself, because all I have to do is lay out the steak, sprinkle on a bit of seasoning, then hand the mallet to the Evil Redhead and allow her to take out her frustrations on something besides me. (Oh, and let’s not get into any meat beating jokes you dirty minded little monkeys… Be honest, you know you thought about it… It crossed my mind, so it had to have crossed yours…)

Round steak is commonly used for a couple of simple reasons – it is very easy to find and it’s comparatively cheap, depending on the particular cut, as round steak generally has 4 different versions – Top, Tip, Eye, and Bottom. In any event, whether you choose round, chuck, or shoulder steaks, the commonality is this – these particular cuts are less marbled, and while still full of wonderful beefy goodness in the flavor department, the connective tissues tend to be tougher, hence the need for Swissing.

So, we now know why the pounded gristle in brown gravy served to me in Indiana was called Swiss steak – it was steak that had been Swissed. But, as I lamented before, it was not the Swiss Steak of the South, and dare I say, of many of the tables throughout other parts of the country as well. You see, for it to truly be what the culinary aware are likely to call Swiss Steak, there is another piece to the recipe puzzle – that being braising – that is, first sear it on high heat, then cook it to death in a liquid in order to further break down those connective tissues and render the meat fork tender. Yes, you should be able to eat Swiss Steak without even imagining the use of a knife, much less actually bringing one to the table. And, something most cooks and every Southerner knows is that adding an acidic element to the braising liquid will help accomplish this task.

What am I talking about here? Tomatoes, of course. The simple fact of the matter is that no self respecting Southerner would serve something and call it Swiss Steak unless it was meat smothered in tomatoes and onions. And so, while recipes vary, as most generally do, real Swiss Steak is rich with both beefy and tomatoey goodness. Plain and simple. ‘Nuff said.

Now, on we go with my personal version of Swiss Steak, good enough to make an Evil Kat be a little less evil for an evening.

REAL Swiss Steak

(Serves 4 to 6)

You will need: Cooking tongs, a LARGE skillet with lid, sharp knives, and a meat tenderizing mallet

Ingredients:

2 Lbs Beef Round Steak, Trimmed (I prefer Bottom Round, but Top Round will work)
2 Large Yellow Onions, Chopped
3-4 Cloves Garlic, Minced
2 Tbsp Tomato Paste
2 Cans Diced Tomatoes (14.5 oz each)
1 tsp Oregano
1 tsp Thyme
1 tsp Rosemary
1 tsp Ground Celery Seed
Worcestershire sauce
1 to 2 Cups Beef or Vegetable Stock
Coarse/Kosher Salt
Fresh Ground Black Pepper
Whole Wheat Flour
Bacon Grease (Around 1/3 cup – Vegetable Oil will work, but it’s just not the same)

Cooking Directions:

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.

Chop onions, set aside.

Cut the trimmed steak into hand sized portions, slicing with the grain. Season both sides with salt and pepper to taste, then pummel it within an inch of its life with a meat tenderizing mallet. Sometimes I will use a papaya based meat tenderizer powder as well, but use this sparingly. Place 1/2 cup whole wheat flour into a paper or zip top bag. Add meat, 2 to 3 pieces at a time, seal and shake. Repeat until all of the meat has been dredged in the flour.

Add bacon grease (or vegetable oil if you must) to cover bottom of large skillet. Over medium-high heat, sear floured steak pieces in batches until lightly browned. Remove to plate. Increase heat and add beef/vegetable stock to skillet and deglaze. Reduce heat, add tomato paste, oregano, thyme, rosemary, celery seed, garlic, and Worcestershire. Stir until tomato paste is dissolved and spices are fully incorporated. Begin layering steak pieces in skillet, alternating with chopped onions. Cover with both cans of tomatoes. Bring to a simmer for 10 -15 minutes, then cover and place skillet in oven for 1 to 1 1/2 hours.

Allow to rest before serving. Meat should be fork tender and falling apart.

Serve with fresh, lumpy mashed potatoes or steamed rice. Buttered peas or green beans make the perfect compliment to round out the meal.

Variations:

If I was making this dish solely for myself, I would also add a chopped bell pepper to the ingredient list, however E K and bell peppers don’t get along. It has something to do with a shish kebab, a riding crop, a bottle of Ouzo, a seedy motel room in New Jersey, and a restraining order. E K staunchly refuses to talk about it, suffice it to say, she is not allowed within 100 yards of any bell pepper, regardless of variety. Therefore, whenever I prepare Swiss Steak here at home I am not allowed to add bell peppers.

I have been known to add chopped celery to the pan if I have it on hand, but I don’t go out of my way to obtain it in order to fix Swiss Steak. That’s what the ground celery seed is for.

And there you have it…

More to come…

Murv