Tag Archives: stew

Beef Stew with Thyme and Pepper Dumplings


So, today I will be reposting something from two years ago – a lovely, warming beef stew with dumplings. It’s interesting to me to look back at this post and see how things have changed over time. I feel like my writing has much the same voice as ever, but the photos are not quite as good, and the whole post is laid out quite differently. I’m not going to fix it up – time is not on my side today – but I do tend to bang my photos right in the centre now, it being an easier option and one that looks the same before and after I click publish – something that can’t be said for left- or right-aligned photos, which jump around a bit between draft and finished post. A WordPress quirk.

The recipe is not perfect, I will probably work on it again now that winter has definitely arrived in Glasgow. The rain of the summer has given way to the rain of the winter – you can tell, because it’s cold instead of warm. I’ve resisted putting on my heating thus far, but after this morning’s shivering start to the day I’m going to have to rethink that tonight. Always a turning point in the year, that. Anyway, on to the post…

 

I’ve made beef stew loads of times, and I’ve never really done much by way of variation. I like it with carrot, onion and gravy, possibly made with a stock cube or other gravy agent. A bit of red wine is pushing the boat out for me, where stew is concerned. A couple of bay leaves constitutes a stew rave. My mum makes stew with carrot, onion and stock, and it’s really comforting, and a perfectly acceptable way to eat diced beef. There is a phrase you won’t hear on Masterchef. I did fancy something a bit different today, though, but at first I couldn’t come up with much. I swung by the supermarket to see if they had any ox kidney on the go, and was thinking of doing a steak and kidney pie, which I haven’t tried before. There was nothing doing on that front, though – there was lamb kidney and pig kidney. It’s funny how pig kidney sounds so much worse than lamb kidney, because the word ‘lamb’ signifies meat as well as a little smiling, cartoon, cloud on legs, but pig just means pig. If we’re going to eat it, we call it pork, or ham, or bacon, or gammon, or a lot of other words. Odd. Not off-putting to me, but there’s definitely something a bit less appetising about the phrase ‘pig kidney’. Semantics aside, I didn’t want to mix my animals, though I’m not sure if there’s much difference between them in terms of flavour – something to investigate.

The lack of cow organs troubled me less than it might have, because on my way to the supermarket, I’d had a bit of a dinner brainwave. I had been thinking about making the pastry for a steak and kidney pie, and that in turn had reminded me of the one time I made dumplings. They were to go with a goulash, and had dried mixed herbs through them. I remembered them being really good, though the memory was from about eight years ago, when I was a student and eating pretty questionable foods on a regular basis, most notably fried goods from one of those vans – I would have something from there weekly, on a Tuesday night after the rock night in the student union. Those were the days, eh? Alright, I wouldn’t mind reliving the social life, but I’m glad I never have to sit another exam, I can tell you that for nothing. What I’m trying to say is that my palate has changed in the last eight years, as have my skills in the kitchen, so I wasn’t sure if the dumplings I’d made before would work out for me again, but I thought I’d like to try. On further internal discussion with myself (internal discussion with someone else would be unsettling, to say the least), I decided that thyme and pepper would be good flavours to go with a beef stew, and I was more or less set on trying dumplings instead of pie, even before the lack of offal became apparent.

Without any further waffle, because all the kitchen-based excitement has left me quite ready for bed, here is the recipe for beef stew with thyme and pepper dumplings. I thank you.

Ingredients -

For stew:

  • 2 tsp porcini oil
  • 1 tsp groundnut or other light oil
  • 1/2 red onion
  • 1 medium carrot
  • 250g lean stewing steak
  • 3 tomatoes
  • 1 cup water
  • 1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
  • 5 stems of thyme
  • 2 pinches of sugar
  • 1 tsp vincotto
  • salt and pepper
  • more water as required during simmering

For dumplings:

  • 3 tbsp margarine
  • 10-12 tbsp plain flour
  • 3 turns of a sea salt mill
  • 6 turns of a pepper mill
  • 1/2 – 1 tsp Szechuan pepper, finely ground
  • 2 – 3 tbsp cold water

Method for stew:

  • Peel carrot and cut in half lengthways, then slice into half-coins across the way.
  • Finely chop onion
  • Put 1 tsp of the porcini oil and the groundnut oil into a pot with the onion and carrot, over a medium heat. Cook until the onion is transparant.
  • Add the meat to the pot to brown.
  • Put the tomatoes into a blender and puree. Season the puree with salt and pepper.
  • Once meat is browned, turn the heat down to low. Add half a cup of pureed tomatoes and a cup of water to the pot, and stir well. Add the balsamic vinegar, thyme, sugar and vincotto, and stir through again.
  • Simmer, covered, for one hour, then taste and season.
  • Remove the cover on the pot to allow the gravy to start to thicken. In the meantime, make the dumplings.

Method for dumplings:

  • Put the margarine and flour in a bowl, and rub in with your fingertips until the mix is like coarse sand. Start with 10 tbsp flour and work up, if necessary.
  • Add the salt and peppers, and mix.
  • Add 2 tbsp of water – it should be really cold – and stir in with a knife. If the dough doesn’t come together, add another 1/2 tbsp, then another half again if needed.
  • Shape this dough into balls, and they’re ready for the pot.

To bring together:

  • Place the dumplings on top of the stew in the pot, and return the lid. Cook for ten to fifteen minutes on each side, until they have risen a little and taken on some colour from the stew – compare the picture above and the one on the left. Be careful to check the amount of liquid in the pot, and add water if needed.
  • Stir the dumplings through the stew and simmer for five to ten minutes more.
  • Plate up, chow down.

I’m not really sure how dumplings are supposed to be, if I’m honest, having never had them made for me by someone else. The ones I made tonight are chewy and doughy, and a nice amount of heavy. Gramatically, that makes little to no sense, but gastronomically it’s a perfectly acceptable way to express texture, to me at least. They’re also really filling, though I did have some bread with dinner, too – a lovely poppy seed loaf caught my eye while I was in the shops, so I brought it home. It’ll serve me well with the scotch broth I made the other night, too. I took a photo of the inside of one of the dumplings to try to get across the texture; you can see it below. They are undeniably on the stodgy side, and not fine dining, but as far as flavour goes they were pretty spot on. Next time I’d use a bit more pepper to really give them a kick, but I’m more than happy with them as they are. In fact, this was definitely the best beef stew I’ve ever made, without a doubt.

 

Maybe next time I’ll look up a recipe for the dumplings.

Maybe next time I’ll write a post that doesn’t use the word ‘dumplings’ eighty thousand times.


Rabbit Stew and Best Ever Roast Spuds


My mum and I like to go to the Good Food Show every year in Glasgow. Last year was no exception, we had a lovely afternoon wandering around, checking out the free samples and (on my mum’s part) ogling James Martin. I bought myself a few presents, some of which are still in my freezer waiting to be used, but a couple of which I used to make dinner almost as soon as I got home. These were a ready-jointed rabbit from the wonderful Blackface Meat Company and a bottle of cold pressed Cullisse Highland Rapeseed Oil, as recommend by the aforementioned Mr Martin. I’d never tried either product before so I was looking forward to checking them out, and decided on a rabbit stew with roast potatoes to showcase them.

I browned the outside of the rabbit before adding carrots, onion, celery, swede, fresh thyme and tinned tomatoes to the pot, and simmering over a low heat for about an hour and a half – for the last five minutes I added some cabbage and frozen peas. While the stew was simmering, I made some roast potatoes, and I have to say that I think the rapeseed oil makes a huge impact on their flavour.

Precipitous potatoes...

I used my usual method, which is to boil the potatoes in salted water for 10 – 15 minutes, until cooked. Never mind part-cooked, properly cooked potatoes gives you the soft inside and crunchy outside that you really want in a roastie. Then I drain them and return them to the pot, with a good glug of oil, then SHOOGLE them until the outsides are all bashed up and there’s quite a lot of mashed potato in the pot. I have a taste of the mashed stuff to see if it needs more seasoning – usually I just use salt but (having had this conversation more than once) I know other people like to add pepper, or semolina (for extra crunch), or herbs, or garlic… It’s amazing and exciting how many versions of roast potatoes you can get! Personally I like to keep them simple, with just the oil and salt, and a good shoogle. I tip them into a roasting tin and roast at 200C for an hour, checking and turning them after 45 minutes, especially if I’m using someone else’s oven that might think of playing tricks on me. I’m talking specifically of the kind of tricks that end with burnt roast potatoes and an angry woman in a pirate hat. Those kind of tricks.

When I put the cabbage and peas into the stew, I also put some broccoli florets into the microwave to cook. It’s not haute cuisine, but a microwave steamer, or just a bowl with a little water in the bottom, makes acceptable veggies - maybe not as good as veggies steamed over a pot of water, but a little easier to do, and handy when you have a couple of other things to co-ordinate.   

Oh my, that really does look a big mess. I’ll have to make something very pretty soon, these pictures of unidentifiable brown meals are getting a bit ridiculous. The artificial lighting doesn’t help, all my photos from the G Man’s house are kind of orange… Still, this plate of food was never going to win any awards for presentation.

I enjoyed the rabbit – I was expecting it to be a lot gamier and stronger tasting than it really was though. Cliche though it may be, it really did taste like chicken. A lovely, meaty, free range chicken, but a chicken all the same. A chicken with a tiny ribcage… The legs were particularly good, very juicy. Much like chicken legs… ANYway it was fun to try something new, and I’m sure I could find other ways to cook a rabbit that would bring out its own natural flavours, rather than firing it in a pot with a load of generic casserole vegetables. Suggestions welcome!

Not a scrap of meat wasted...


Irish-ish Stew


Here is a recipe that I set out thinking would be dead straightforward, precise and quick. I managed to complicate it up a bit, but it’s still nothing fancy. It’s perfect for the grey, windy weather we’re getting in Scotland at the minute – we’re definitely entering the Time of Stew.

When I was buying the ingredients for this stew, I found lamb bones on the shelf next to the other lamb products – dirt cheap they were, too, at 20p for 200g. I bought them to put in the stew, thinking that they would help thicken it nicely without having to add flour and run the risk of the gravy getting too thick or gluey. I kind of forgot that I’d have to take them back out again in the end, which took away from the quick and easy meal I’d been aiming for. I ended up leaving them in, in honesty, and the G man and I picked them out and gnawed the meat off them as we found them. I also added full stems of thyme, which then meant I had the stems to pick back out once the leaves had fallen off and mixed in. This was a pain. If I were to do it again, I’d probably take the extra time and make a lamb stock with the bones first, and strip the thyme leaves off before adding them. Still, fairly minor inconveniences, both of them.

Ingredients for a pot of stew – serves three or four depending on greed:

  • 1 tsp rapeseed oil
  • 80g sliced leek
  • 50g sliced carrot
  • 225g mixed diced swede and carrot
  • 450g lamb mince
  • salt and pepper
  • 2 tomatoes, pureed
  • 350g peeled new potatoes
  • 200g lamb bones
  • 2 tbsp red wine
  • 100g pearl barley
  • 3 ‘handfuls’ of thyme (see picture)
  • 700ml water
  • 80g peas
  • 190g broccoli florets

For the record, this is a ‘handful’ of thyme, in my book:

As you can see from the first photo, I bought all pre-prepared and packaged veg, even potatoes, which is super lazy. Still, the point was that it was an easy meal to make, even if I did add some fussy bits…

First, I heated the oil in a large pot, then cooked the leeks, carrot and swede-and-carrot for about five minutes over a medium high heat, till they started looking a bit rough and smelling all nice. I put the lamb mince in the pot, seasoned and browned. Then I reduced the heat to low and added all the rest of the ingredients apart from the peas and broccoli. I simmered all this for 40 minutes. The pureed tomatoes add a nice acidity to the stew, I’ve started putting tomatoes in all my stews. Some tinned tomatoes or passata would have done the trick too, though with the pureed tomatoes you know you’re getting all the goodness from them.

After the 40 minutes were up, the barley looked nice and fat and everything was thickened up. I tasted it for seasoning, added salt and pepper, then put in the broccoli and peas and cooked for a further 10 minutes to cook those through. I also used this last ten minutes to pick out all the thyme stems I could find.

Now, I would never say this is a great looking playdafood, but it was very delicious. I do love broccoli, but there’s something about it being in a stew that makes it look leggy and dreadful. Also that potato is so peely-wally, it looks a bit like an egg… I’d have been better off just putting in some baby new potatoes with the skin on, really, for extra flavour as well as colour. Still, for a low maintenance dinner this was a good result. Putting in the lamb bones meant that I didn’t have to add any stock for depth of flavour, and it was quite fun to nibble off the meat from the bones as we went along. I especially loved the barley, which I’d never cooked with before, apart from in a broth mix. It’s getting to be Broth Time too. Winter’s not all bad after all!


Posh Sausage Casserole


I love a good sausage casserole – it’s a food from my childhood, and one that my mum sometimes still makes for me. She says ‘I’ve made your Favourite’. It’s a lovely phrase, full of warmth and cosiness, and also brimming with anticipation. That capital letter is in there on purpose, too – it’s not my favourite food *ever*, but it’s still my Favourite. It’s hard to explain…

Anyway, I made a fancy sausage casserole of late, which is nothing like my mum’s and, in many ways, not nearly as good, but it had its own rich, sausagey charm. I tried to be mindful of the ingredients I was using as I went along, because usually when I make any kind of stew it’s a free for all. It is still a little like that, because I got caught up in the kitchen moment and started adding as though it were a matter of urgency. I hadn’t really realised it before, but I do feel that way while I’m cooking, as though I have to get the flavour right as quickly as possible before it’s TOO LATE. I don’t know what this says about me. Probably that I’m a better cook than I am blogger, but I do my best, Gorluvme.

The picture shows the main ingredients in the casserole, which are:

  • one thinly sliced red onion
  • two large cloves of garlic, crushed (on top of the onion)
  • several stems of thyme
  • one stick of celery
  • six pork sausages
  • one tin of potatoes
  • one tin of chopped tomatoes
  • one chorizo ring, peeled and cubed
  • 125g pack of button mushrooms, halved or quartered as necessary
  • two dried arbol chilis

Did you notice the heinous addition of tinned potatoes? I know that a lot of people disapprove of tinned potatoes on principle, but I maintain that they’re a handy cupboard staple, even if you do feel like a berk buying them.

I sauteed the onion, garlic and thyme (stripped from its branches) in a mild olive oil for three or four minutes over a medium high heat. When the onion was softened and the garlic and thyme were fragrant, I added the chorizo and cooked until the colour of the chorizo had taken over the pot, like an invading army of deliciousness. The mushrooms went in next along with a good pinch of salt, and I cooked the whole lot for several minutes more until the shrooms seemed cooked through. Then it was time for the tomatoes, sausages chilis and celery, the latter three of which I left whole. I was hoping that the celery would impart flavour into the sauce without having to have actual bits of celery in the stew. I’m not sure how well that worked, since I didn’t do a control sauce without it – I think it may have been a wasted effort. Celery vs chorizo is no contest, in anyone’s book. Except vegetarians, I guess. The chilis definitely didn’t give the kick I was expecting, I think they needed to be split in two for all the heat and flavour to come out. I made up for it with chili flakes at a later juncture, never fear. I also half-filled the empty tomatoes tin with chicken stock and added this for more depth of flavour.

To all those ingredients, I added some red wine vinegar, some balsamic vinegar and some chipotle Tabasco sauce, along with a little more salt and black pepper. You see what I mean when I say that the specifics got lost in the cooking process? I started out well, at least. I gently simmered the whole lot for about fifteen minutes, then used kitchen scissors to cut the sausages into bits, right in the pot. It’s easier than hauling them all out on to the chopping board, or if not easier than at least a bit more fun. It’s maybe not everyone’s idea of a laugh, I’ll grant you, but fishing around with a wooden spoon and a pair of scissors, trying to cut sausages into bite-sized pieces, is entertaining to me. Once the fun was over, I continued to simmer the stew for another half hour. After this time, I tipped in the potatoes, which had been drained and sliced into chunks, along with a handful of frozen peas, then simmered for a final fifteen minutes. That’s an hour of simmering in total, which could be reduced if you were in a hurry, but a long, slow simmer is better for allowing all-important mingling of flavours.

It looks dreadful, I’ll give you that. Taking it out of the context of a warm kitchen full of the aromas of paprika, garlic and rich tomato sauce and it looks like a plate of dog food. I’ve never tried dog food, but I feel confident in saying that my posh sausages were nicer than a tin of Pedigree Chum. What a recommendation.


Beef Stew with Thyme and Pepper Dumplings


I have a couple of other things that I could be blogging about right now, but tonight’s dinner has to take precedence, if only so that I can write down how I made it before I lose the bit of paper that I scrawled the recipe on just after finishing. With the weather being so cold lately, I bought ingredients for a lovely beef stew. I’ve just realised that one of those ingredients was brussels sprouts to serve with it, which I completely forgot about until this very moment, long after dinner has been finished. I guess I’ll have to eat them tomorrow, and maybe over the weekend too. It’s a big bag. Sprout soup may be in order.

I’ve made beef stew loads of times, and I’ve never really done much by way of variation. I like it with carrot, onion and gravy, possibly made with a stock cube or other gravy agent. A bit of red wine is pushing the boat out for me, where stew is concerned. A couple of bay leaves constitutes a stew rave. My mum makes stew with carrot, onion and stock, and it’s really comforting, and a perfectly acceptable way to eat diced beef. There is a phrase you won’t hear on Masterchef. I did fancy something a bit different today, though, but at first I couldn’t come up with much. I swung by the supermarket to see if they had any ox kidney on the go, and was thinking of doing a steak and kidney pie, which I haven’t tried before. There was nothing doing on that front, though – there was lamb kidney and pig kidney. It’s funny how pig kidney sounds so much worse than lamb kidney, because the word ‘lamb’ signifies meat as well as a little smiling, cartoon, cloud on legs, but pig just means pig. If we’re going to eat it, we call it pork, or ham, or bacon, or gammon, or a lot of other words. Odd. Not off-putting to me, but there’s definitely something a bit less appetising about the phrase ‘pig kidney’. Semantics aside, I didn’t want to mix my animals, though I’m not sure if there’s much difference between them in terms of flavour – something to investigate.

The lack of cow organs troubled me less than it might have, because on my way to the supermarket, I’d had a bit of a dinner brainwave. I had been thinking about making the pastry for a steak and kidney pie, and that in turn had reminded me of the one time I made dumplings. They were to go with a goulash, and had dried mixed herbs through them. I remembered them being really good, though the memory was from about eight years ago, when I was a student and eating pretty questionable foods on a regular basis, most notably fried goods from one of those vans – I would have something from there weekly, on a Tuesday night after the rock night in the student union. Those were the days, eh? Alright, I wouldn’t mind reliving the social life, but I’m glad I never have to sit another exam, I can tell you that for nothing. What I’m trying to say is that my palate has changed in the last eight years, as have my skills in the kitchen, so I wasn’t sure if the dumplings I’d made before would work out for me again, but I thought I’d like to try. On further internal discussion with myself (internal discussion with someone else would be unsettling, to say the least), I decided that thyme and pepper would be good flavours to go with a beef stew, and I was more or less set on trying dumplings instead of pie, even before the lack of offal became apparent.

Without any further waffle, because all the kitchen-based excitement has left me quite ready for bed, here is the recipe for beef stew with thyme and pepper dumplings. I thank you.

Ingredients -

For stew:

  • 2 tsp porcini oil
  • 1 tsp groundnut or other light oil
  • 1/2 red onion
  • 1 medium carrot
  • 250g lean stewing steak
  • 3 tomatoes
  • 1 cup water
  • 1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
  • 5 stems of thyme
  • 2 pinches of sugar
  • 1 tsp vincotto
  • salt and pepper
  • more water as required during simmering

For dumplings:

  • 3 tbsp margarine
  • 10-12 tbsp plain flour
  • 3 turns of a sea salt mill
  • 6 turns of a pepper mill
  • 1/2 – 1 tsp Szechuan pepper, finely ground
  • 2 – 3 tbsp cold water

Method for stew:

  • Peel carrot and cut in half lengthways, then slice into half-coins across the way.
  • Finely chop onion
  • Put 1 tsp of the porcini oil and the groundnut oil into a pot with the onion and carrot, over a medium heat. Cook until the onion is transparant.
  • Add the meat to the pot to brown.
  • Put the tomatoes into a blender and puree. Season the puree with salt and pepper.
  • Once meat is browned, turn the heat down to low. Add half a cup of pureed tomatoes and a cup of water to the pot, and stir well. Add the balsamic vinegar, thyme, sugar and vincotto, and stir through again.
  • Simmer, covered, for one hour, then taste and season.
  • Remove the cover on the pot to allow the gravy to start to thicken. In the meantime, make the dumplings.

Method for dumplings:

  • Put the margarine and flour in a bowl, and rub in with your fingertips until the mix is like coarse sand. Start with 10 tbsp flour and work up, if necessary.
  • Add the salt and peppers, and mix.
  • Add 2 tbsp of water – it should be really cold – and stir in with a knife. If the dough doesn’t come together, add another 1/2 tbsp, then another half again if needed.
  • Shape this dough into balls, and they’re ready for the pot.

To bring together:

  • Place the dumplings on top of the stew in the pot, and return the lid. Cook for ten to fifteen minutes on each side, until they have risen a little and taken on some colour from the stew – compare the picture above and the one on the left. Be careful to check the amount of liquid in the pot, and add water if needed.
  • Stir the dumplings through the stew and simmer for five to ten minutes more.
  • Plate up, chow down.

 

I’m not really sure how dumplings are supposed to be, if I’m honest, having never had them made for me by someone else. The ones I made tonight are chewy and doughy, and a nice amount of heavy. Gramatically, that makes little to no sense, but gastronomically it’s a perfectly acceptable way to express texture, to me at least. They’re also really filling, though I did have some bread with dinner, too – a lovely poppy seed loaf caught my eye while I was in the shops, so I brought it home. It’ll serve me well with the scotch broth I made the other night, too. I took a photo of the inside of one of the dumplings to try to get across the texture; you can see it below. They are undeniably on the stodgy side, and not fine dining, but as far as flavour goes they were pretty spot on. Next time I’d use a bit more pepper to really give them a kick, but I’m more than happy with them as they are. In fact, this was definitely the best beef stew I’ve ever made, without a doubt.

 

 

Maybe next time I’ll look up a recipe for the dumplings.

 

Maybe next time I’ll write a post that doesn’t use the word ‘dumplings’ eighty thousand times.


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