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DISH
When I told my husband the other day that I wanted to victimize him with some short ribs experimentation but couldn't because I had after school chauffeuring to do, he asked why that made a difference. I suggested that leaving a pot on the stove with a live flame wasn't a great idea ("What if the house blows up while I'm out?"). Ever the voice of logic, he asked, "How many times has the house blown up while you were at home with the stove on?" "None…so far." "Then what makes you think it will blow up when you're not here? And what about the propane furnace under the driveway that's always running when the heat's on…how often has that blown up?" He made his point, but my comfort level is more in line with a twist on the old "a watched pot never boils"…a watched pot never blows up. I guess he really wanted to sink his teeth into some short ribs, so I forged ahead. But let me tell you, if the house had blown up, my finger would've been pointing firmly in his face when Nantucket's finest turned up. My recent fixation with braising - slow, moist-heat cooking - goes hand-in-hand with my fascination with short ribs. Considering the fact that I'm a non-carnivore, it's a strange fixation for me. They're an unusual cut of meat, daunting even, yet I find there's something very sexy about them. They start out so muscular and rugged, though when slowly coaxed into submission with the right technique, they yield into mouth-wateringly, fall-off-the bone tenderness. I guess they remind me of men. Ahem…I digress. Anyhow, while it is possible to try roasting or grilling them, the result will generally be an impossibly tough and unpalatable end product. Braising, on the other hand, a technique that dates back to the Neolithic Period when earthenware pottery was first invented, does double duty with short ribs: it's the ideal method for rendering down their layers of marbled fat and connective tissue and transforming them into fork-tender succulence, while also creating a rich sauce to boot. Cattle have 13 sets of ribs and short ribs comprise 12 of them; the 13th set is considered part of the loin. There are two different kinds of short ribs, "chuck" and "plate," the former being preferable because of their meat-to-fat ratio. The chuck area extends from the front shoulders to the chest and includes the meaty first five sets of ribs, whereas plate ribs, which are cut from the flat ends of the sixth through 12th sets of ribs, contain more fat than meat. Short ribs cut parallel to the bone are known as "English-style" and those cut across the rib bones are known as "flanken-style." Englishstyle ribs are quite thick - two to four-inch thick rectangles - and are generally better for braising than the one and a half to two-inch thick flanken-style, which look more like strips. For my money, I want big, fat chunks. Speaking of money, that's another beautiful thing about short ribs: they're cheap! I paid only about twelve bucks for eight ribs which weighed a little over three pounds. But the best thing about them is their versatility and chameleonic nature, which are only enhanced by the concentrated infusion of limitless flavors that braising allows for. Think of them as the tofu of beef, if you will - they transform into whatever you want them to. It's all a matter of the braising liquid you choose, the aromatics you add and the throne you decide to set them upon. With such a canvas of choices, it's nearly impossible. How about wine or liquor for the liquid? Fine, but what kind? Chianti? Zinfandel? Bourbon? I chose beer. After all, I did say short ribs remind me of men (rugged ones), so what better choice? What about throwing some vinegar in there also? But what kind? Red wine? Sherry? White wine? I chose rice wine; I was beginning to feel an Asian theme coming on. What about the aromatics…herbs, vegetables or both? I chose garlic and ginger. The throne? Should it be pasta, polenta or potatoes? I chose rice, and after mulling over the possibility of jasmine, basmati or sushi rice, I decided on basic steamed long-grain white. For my final flourish, I went with a glazing of hoisin sauce and honey. That choice was easy; I had them both in the fridge. Now to the business of braising. ... The top layer of fat on the ribs is considerable, but easy to remove. I chose my seven and a quarter quart Le Creuset Dutch oven as my vessel, but a five-and-a-half quart - which I don't have - would have been better; the ribs ought to fit snugly while cooking so they absorb the heat from the pot. And while they look large in the pre-cooked stage, once seared, the fat literally melts away, leading to remarkable shrinkage. Now I understand the theory behind Bikram yoga. With the browning done, the aromatics and liquid added and the pot covered and set to simmer, I dashed out to pick up my daughter. The pot was home alone. I managed to forget about it for a while as I listened to the jabberwocky coming from the back seat. Thanks to Fergie, my daughter can spell "delicious." Granted, she thinks it's "to the D, to the E, to the L-I-C-I-O-U-S," which could be problematic in a spelling bee. …The pot! I didn't hear any sirens, but accelerated nonetheless. My ribs simmered away happily for twoand a-half hours. I suppose I shouldn't be proud of it, but I did leave them alone on the stove four times. I drove faster than I normally do and I kept the volume on the radio down; I wanted to be able to accurately report the time of the explosion to the insurance adjuster, although I daresay the black cloud in the sky would've given me the same information. The smell of the ribs filled the house with an intoxicating aroma. I roast, grill and stir-fry meat all the time, but the slow method of braising gives way to an earthy, sensual scent that's enough to make you want to slap your mamma in the face. (Okay, someone else's mamma.) The meat was so tender that the bones fell right out as I removed the ribs from the pot. I served the dish as a rich Asian "ragu" over rice, rather than bone-in ribs. My son loved them, which was big; he's known for scolding me when he misses "assorted sandwiches" day at the cafeteria. My husband loved them, as I knew he would, but he wasn't grateful enough that the house was still standing. My daughter wouldn't touch them. But that's okay; she'll work up to it one day. For now, at least she knows how to spell "delicious." I BRAISED ASIAN
SHORT RIBS Trim ribs of excess fat from tops; season with salt and pepper. Heat oil in a large, heavy pot with a lid (Dutch oven) over high heat; brown ribs on all sides. Remove ribs and all but a couple tablespoons of fat from pot, reduce heat to medium, return to stove and sauté garlic and ginger over medium heat for about 2 minutes. Add ribs back to pot, pour in beer and vinegar; cover and simmer over moderate heat for 2 1/2 hours, turning every 45 minutes. Heat oven to 300 degrees; mix hoisin sauce and honey together and pour over ribs. Put pot in oven and cook for 30 minutes, uncovered. Remove ribs from pot; skim excess fat off sauce. Serve over steamed rice. Serves 4. |
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