Beef Chuck

What I suggest here—since most of us don’t have access to truly wild mushrooms—is a combination of dried porcini with fresh shiitakes and white (button) mushrooms. Serve this with buttered noodles, a risotto (even Bare-Bones Risotto, page 522, would be great), or crisp bread. Other cuts of meat you can use here: boneless pork shoulder, veal shoulder, or beef chuck or brisket (which will require somewhat longer cooking time).

Great for a small crowd, this one-pot meal is intensely flavorful and sweet and will fill your kitchen—indeed, your home—with the wonderful aromas of cinnamon and simmering meat. If you have the time and the energy, this is even better if you brown the lamb chunks first: Put about 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a separate skillet, turn the heat to medium-high, and brown the chunks on all sides, turning as needed; this will take about 15 minutes. (The lamb chunks can also be browned in the oven; just put them in a skillet or roasting pan and place in a 450°F oven. Roast, stirring occasionally, until they are browned all over, 20 to 30 minutes.) Other cuts of meat you can use here: boneless beef chuck, boneless pork shoulder or leg (fresh ham).

While pho originated in the north of Vietnam, it has become a national dish. Carts and small shops sell it everywhere, usually for breakfast (since I’m a big fan of savory breakfasts, this was ideal for me). The clear, fragrant beef broth is the flavorful base of this dish, and the sliced sirloin, noodles, and condiments provide the texture. (The sirloin must be sliced as thinly as possible, because it cooks in the serving bowl; freeze it for 30 minutes or so to facilitate thin slicing.) Information on Thai fish sauce—nam pla—is on page 500. Rice vermicelli (mai fun) is available at most supermarkets and all Chinese markets, and is sometimes called “rice stick.”

This classic Russian soup is rich and full of complex flavors. While there are probably as many versions as there are families, the key ingredient is always sauerkraut. (It’s best served with a whole head of soured cabbage, but you’re going to have trouble finding that; just stick with good sauerkraut, sold in bulk or in plastic packages, which contains nothing but cabbage and salt.) This is one of those soups that pretty much requires good stock, and it’s nice to make it especially for this dish, because the beef is a good addition. If you don’t have time (or you’re a vegetarian), use premade stock or make a quick vegetable stock with the bay leaf, parsley, carrots, onions, and celery.

Don’t let the lengthy ingredient list scare you away. It’s really not as bad as it looks. Even my brother, Bubba, can make it. On a cold winter’s day it will make your tongue want to slap your brains out! This recipe serves two or three dozen people, but can easily be cut in half. It keeps for up to five days in the refrigerator or two months in the freezer.

Before I give you this recipe, I must tell you a story. It is about a tall, handsome, talented young man who walked into our restaurant one hot Saturday afternoon. This beautiful young man had an equally beautiful and charming young woman on his arm. I could hear the wait staff just a’buzzing. Being ever watchful, I came out into the dining room to make sure all was well. I saw that our hostess had seated the couple, so I walked over and introduced myself and welcomed them to our home. That hot afternoon I had the pleasure of getting to know Harry Connick, Jr., and his lovely wife, Jill. I have Harry and Jill to thank for one of the most memorable nights of my life. Harry was performing that night at the Johnny Mercer Theater, but much to my dismay I had been too busy to get tickets. I laughingly told Harry that with the exception of him, just about everyone I cared to see in concert was dead, and because of my lack of organization I was going to miss this opportunity. With a sweet smile and a twinkle in his eye he said, “Well, I’m just not going on tonight if you’re not going to be there.” I repeated that I didn’t have a ticket. Harry and Jill just smiled and said, “Yes you do. We’ll have five tickets waiting at the box office for you and your two sons and their dates. Be there at 7:30.” Shortly before show time Harry called the restaurant to see what was cooking. Well, every Saturday night we serve our wonderful Southern Pot Roast and Mashed Potatoes on the buffet. Harry’s instructions were to put as much pot roast and mashed potatoes on one plate as we could, and to fill another plate with Jill’s favorite, the collard greens. I was home getting ready to attend the concert when our manager, Renee, called to ask if I could pick the plates up on my way to the concert. I agreed, and said, “While you’re fixing Harry’s and Jill’s plates, how about a platter of fried chicken and biscuits for the band members?” So my sons, their dates, and I, loaded down with food, took off for the concert. We had the pleasure of feeding the Connicks for a second time on that steaming hot day of August 21, 1999. The concert was wonderful! Harry left me speechless in the middle of his performance by recounting our meeting and describing the meals that he and Jill had enjoyed that day. Just when I thought he couldn’t be sweeter, Harry dedicated his next song to me. The song was “Sensational.” Needless to say, I was a puddle in my chair! Thank you, Harry and Jill, for a wonderful night. How proud your parents must be to have raised such gracious, thoughtful, considerate people. This one’s for you, Harry!

Put this on to cook in a Crock-Pot before leaving for work and come home in the evening to a mouthwatering dinner.

Beef shoulder, usually called the chuck, is the source of many flavorful cuts of meat. One of my favorites for braising is the compact boneless chuck roast, taken from underneath the shoulder blade. There’s so much connective tissue and fat in the meat that long, moist cooking will produce soft, delicious meat, whatever you put in the pot. This braise, however, is a special one, inspired by my connection to and love for Venice and its special place in culinary history—La Serenissima, as the state of Venice was called, was a center for the spice trade and the silk route through the Middle East to the Orient for over 600 years. The use of exotic, imported spices in cooking signaled a well-to-do household with a rich kitchen. I get excited just assembling the spices and flavorings (including coffee and cocoa) for this. And when the exotic perfume arises from the bubbling wine that fills the pot, I hate to leave the kitchen, even though there’s almost no work to do once the beef begins its 3 hours of braising.

Antico peposo, a very old recipe for cubed beef, is cooked with lots of pepper and no other condiment—not even a drop of oil or any other fat—and it becomes a delightfully savory and peppery dish. The dish probably dates back to medieval times, when there was no refrigeration and meat was preserved with salt or lots of pepper and herbs. Once the meat was embedded with the pepper, it was cooked just as it was. Or with a little wine and garlic. My peposo uses only a fraction of the amount of black peppercorns that are in traditional recipes, but it will still please even the most fanatic pepper-lover: this is peppery! To balance the spiciness of the meat and mop up the sauce, you need some starch. I like to serve the peposo with one of the following: polenta, boiled or mashed potatoes, gnocchi, or just beans cooked with olive oil.

I grew up on this everyday pot roast, which each member of my family makes with his or her own special twist. My mom swears simple is best, with nothing more than meat and vegetables to flavor the dish. I, on the other hand, add wine, broth, and herbs to maximize the flavor of the meat, and I roast most of the vegetables separately so they get nice and caramelized on the outside and soft and sweet in the center.

This stew is so popular that practically every Viet cook has his or her own version. I have read recipes that call for curry powder, annatto seeds, tomato paste, and beer. But this is how my mother learned to make bò kho decades ago. Although in Vietnam it is traditionally eaten for breakfast, here in the States it has become lunch or dinner fare in the Vietnamese American community. It may be served in shallow bowls with warm French bread for sopping up the flavorful sauce, or it may be spooned over rice or wide rice noodles (bánh pho). The addition of chopped Vietnamese coriander or Thai basil leaves is something that my parents picked up when we lived in Saigon. Also, despite the name, this is not a kho dish. Here, kho means “to simmer” or “to stew.” No caramel sauce is involved. Traditionalists like to use the boneless beef shank sold at Chinese and Viet markets for this dish, which they cook for hours to yield a chewy-tender result. Once in the States, my family switched to beef chuck, which is flavorful, suited to long cooking, and more readily available.

Despite the fun and convenience of eating pho at a local noodle soup spot, nothing beats a homemade bowl. What inevitably makes the homemade version đac biet (special) is the care that goes into making the broth, the cornerstone of pho. One of the keys to a great broth is good leg bones, which are often sold at supermarkets as beef soup bones. Avoid neck bones; instead, look for soup bones made up of knuckle and leg bones that contain marrow. At Asian markets, beef leg bones are precut and bagged in the meat department. Vietnamese markets will sometimes have whole leg bones at the butcher counter, and you can specify how you want them cut. A butcher who divides large sections of beef carcasses into small retail cuts is likely to have good bones. For the most fragrant and flavorful broth, I recommend the bones of grass-fed or natural beef.

Unknown to the majority of this country, the green chile cheeseburger is a beloved culinary treasure of New Mexico. Having been there and sampled my share, I know exactly why New Mexicans love it as they do, and that’s why I had to bring my own version to New York. With its fresh bite, the Hatch chile is a favorite in New Mexico, where there is a whole festival celebrating the hometown crop. I like to add some heat to my green chile relish with roasted serranos and use milder, peppery poblano chiles to round out the mix. Tossing the chiles with acidic red wine vinegar and vibrant cilantro ensures a nice freshness to balance the creamy, decadent cheese sauce. Add some bright color and flavor with pickled red onions and some salty crunch with blue tortilla chip crumbles, and you’ve got a burger worth serving to even the toughest New Mexico critics.

Cooking over cedar planks creates amazing flavor, infusing every bite with smoky complexity. And so I decided it was time for salmon to share the cedar love and give burgers some of that star treatment. It works. Since this is, after all, a method born in the Pacific Northwest, it only seems right to outfit the burger with toppings inspired by the region. A barbecue sauce made with Pinot Noir—the grape that put Oregon’s wine on the map—and an earthy sauté of wild mushrooms flavorfully fit the bill.

Before I give you this recipe, I must tell you a story. It is about a tall, handsome, talented young man who walked into our restaurant one hot Saturday afternoon. This beautiful young man had an equally beautiful and charming young woman on his arm. I could hear the wait staff just a’buzzing. Being ever watchful, I came out into the dining room to make sure all was well. I saw that our hostess had seated the couple, so I walked over and introduced myself and welcomed them to our home. That hot afternoon I had the pleasure of getting to know Harry Connick, Jr., and his lovely wife, Jill. I have Harry and Jill to thank for one of the most memorable nights of my life. Harry was performing that night at the Johnny Mercer Theater, but much to my dismay I had been too busy to get tickets. I laughingly told Harry that with the exception of him, just about everyone I cared to see in concert was dead, and because of my lack of organization I was going to miss this opportunity. With a sweet smile and a twinkle in his eye he said, “Well, I’m just not going on tonight if you’re not going to be there.” I repeated that I didn’t have a ticket. Harry and Jill just smiled and said, “Yes you do. We’ll have five tickets waiting at the box office for you and your two sons and their dates. Be there at 7:30.” Shortly before show time Harry called the restaurant to see what was cooking. Well, every Saturday night we serve our wonderful Southern Pot Roast and Mashed Potatoes on the buffet. Harry’s instructions were to put as much pot roast and mashed potatoes on one plate as we could, and to fill another plate with Jill’s favorite, the collard greens. I was home getting ready to attend the concert when our manager, Renee, called to ask if I could pick the plates up on my way to the concert. I agreed, and said, “While you’re fixing Harry’s and Jill’s plates, how about a platter of fried chicken and biscuits for the band members?” So my sons, their dates, and I, loaded down with food, took off for the concert. We had the pleasure of feeding the Connicks for a second time on that steaming hot day of August 21, 1999. The concert was wonderful! Harry left me speechless in the middle of his performance by recounting our meeting and describing the meals that he and Jill had enjoyed that day. Just when I thought he couldn’t be sweeter, Harry dedicated his next song to me. The song was “Sensational.” Needless to say, I was a puddle in my chair! Thank you, Harry and Jill, for a wonderful night. How proud your parents must be to have raised such gracious, thoughtful, considerate people. This one’s for you, Harry!

In classic French cooking, each dish has a name that indicates its precise ingredients and correct garnish. Bourguignonne is a term for dishes cooked in red wine, as some of the most famous French wines are from Bourgogne (Burgundy). These dishes are garnished with pearl onions, button mushrooms, and lardons of bacon. Never choose stew meat already in precut cubes. It’s more expensive and you have no idea if you’re getting, for example, leftover bits from the shoulder or rib-eye, two wildly different cuts that won’t cook at the same rate.

Julia Child was quoted as saying, “Once you have mastered a technique, you hardly need look at a recipe again.” The technique for cooking tough cuts of meat is braising: the meat is seared until dark brown for flavor, then removed from the pot. Aromatics such as herbs and vegetables are cooked in the same pot in a small amount of the remaining fat. The pan is subsequently deglazed with liquid to help remove any brown bits of flavor from the bottom of the pan, then the meat is returned and liquid is added to come up to the meat’s “shoulders.” Pot roast is a classic braised dish.

Shredded meat is a staple in both Mexican and southwestern kitchens, and is a perfect side to make in a slow cooker. It can be used to fill tacos, burritos, and tostadas or can just be tossed with scrambled eggs for breakfast. The following simple recipe can be made with beef, pork, or even turkey. Cooking times may vary according to type and cut of meat, but in general, when your desired result is meat that can easily be shredded, anything cooked for 6 to 8 hours ought to work out fine.