I popped into my neighbor's house yesterday to relieve the boredom of a chilly, constantly raining day. She was making venison stew. We chatted and carried on for a time and as I was leaving, she tossed a large plastic bag at me.
"Here." She said. "You take these. I have no idea what to do with them." She made a comical gag-face.
Intrigued, I peered into the bag. Sliced beef shank bones.
"Oh NICE!" I exclaimed. "Thanks!"
"That's part of the cow I got for painting the inside of my friend Sally's house," she explained. "Well, it was only half a cow, really."
"Just half a cow?" I giggled.
"Yes, but it was part of their organic herd. Local and grass fed!"
"...and free for me!" I was delighted to take this wobbling bag of clear vacuum-packed shanks. Seven big, thick disks of beautiful beef rested at the bottom of the white plastic bag, looking back at me and asking what I was going to do with them. My brain started to smoke.
"Ok thanks so much!" I waved at my neighbor as I bounced down her porch steps. "See you later!"
"Wait!" She stopped me. "What are you going to do with those things? She made the comical gag-face again.
"Osso buco!" Came my reply as I skipped back to my cottage.
Osso buco finds it's roots in the northern Italian city of Milan. The classic recipe uses veal shanks, white wine and tomato, and is topped with a gremolata- a condiment made from lemon zest, garlic and parsley. That would have been delicious, if I had had any of those ingredients in my kitchen. But "osso buco" simply means "bone with a hole". These shanks were not veal, and I did have garlic, a bag of onions and a big box of Cabernet Sauvignon. I also unearthed a half a bag of corn meal. Perfect. I would run with that.
I washed the meat and patted it dry. The dry meat browned well and left a nice, even brown crust on the bottom of the pot. Known as "fond" this dark residue is the caramelization of sugars present in the food that is browning. Fond is a key contributor to a richly flavored dish.
The chilly, rainy day droned on. Darkness closed in and I returned to the pot that was bubbling away on the stove. Steam billowed up as I lifted the lid to see that my version of osso buco was ready to eat. I knew it was time to make the polenta to go with it.
I stirred in butter, lots of salt and a little pepper. |
Osso buco and polenta are part of the darlings of the modern food scene. Trendy, urban restaurants charge big dollars for this kind of food. Ironically, many members of this group of current favorites are the descendants of dishes that were born from poverty and necessity. That is the beauty of food. The most humble bit of edible leftover bits can be transformed into a rich, flavorful and satisfying meal for all of those you love.
Try it. You'll be surprised what you'll be capable of!
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