I’m about as far from an intuitive cook as you can get and am often to be found in my kitchen wailing at the range hood Why???!! Why???!!!
Here was one more time like that…
Ever created a casserole that ended up more watery than an emotional episode of MasterChef?
I made Fast Ed’s Beef Stroganoff on Monday night then realised at 9pm as I was slipping it Into the oven that I’d have to stay up till 11pm to take it out. Planning ahead was never my strong point.
Thankfully the photographer is the owl in our owl-and-fowl set-up and he was happy to stay up late to deal with the strog.
Next morning I opened the pot with a sinking feeling when I saw that the little portions of meat and mushroom within were floating in a vast ocean of liquid, like toddler synchronized swimmers in an Olympic sized swimming pool.
What’s more, the liquid was an unappetizing pool of yellowy brine with little flecks of sour cream smothering my chuck steak like so much lint on a favorite coat. Sure, the meat was tender, but that was its sole redeeming feature.
After much gnashing of teeth and copious Googling I headed where I always go when I want crispy potatoes, fluffy rice and transparent crepes — www.deliaonline.com.
There I learned about buerre manie, equal parts flour and butter made into a paste and dropped into sauces in tiny amounts for thickening. It must be whisked in well to combine with the sauce. There’s the rub I thought. Floury claggy globules loom large in my long history of culinary cock-ups.
So, not trusting this never before seen technique, I raced out on my lunch break – attempting to better a Usain Bolt personal best — and bought a back-up dinner.
The liquidy quagmire destroying my day had looked unsalvageable and there was no way I was serving that foul swamp to my friends.
At home, in between feeding Lollie girl, sweeping, tidying, putting out horses doovers and fielding phone calls from the photographer, I set about saving my bacon, or in this case chuck.
On Delia’s advice, I scooped everything out of the liquid (so simple, yet so outside my realm of intuition), then boiled the absolute bejesus out of the sauce.
Lo and behold, within 20 minutes I had a beautiful, rich thick and creamy sauce. The meat remained tender, the sauce flavourful. Apparently the thickness was thanks to my dusting the chuck in flour before browning. No buerre manie was needed, so I’ll save that for my next gourmess.
Cooking notes:
*The pre trimmed and cubed chuck steak from the butcher at $17 a kilo was money well spent, one less task.
*I switched the butter for margarine to reduce the saturated fat content, and used about a third the amount stated in the recipe. I also used light sour cream.
*Um, what’s with the chicken stock in a beef dish here? Delia? Anyone?
From Delia…
“Thickening casseroles
Some casserole recipes call for the liquid to be thickened, and this can be done in various ways. The most popular way is to add some flour to the casserole after the meat has been browned (so that it can mingle with the juices and fat in the pan) and before the liquid is added. It is exactly the same principle as for the thickening of a white sauce. Another way to thicken a casserole is to toss the meat in the seasoned flour before browning it. Alternatively, when the casserole has completed cooking, the liquid can be strained off and simmered until slightly reduced and thickened. Or a flour and butter paste can be whisked into the liquid at the end of cooking time: 1 oz (25 g) butter worked into 1 oz (25 g) flour should thicken 1 pint (570 ml) liquid. This butter-flour paste, called beurre manié in classic cooking, can be frozen in blocks in ice-cube trays – but it doesn’t take a minute to make as and when you need it. Add it to the liquid in little flecks, and use a balloon whisk to whisk it in.”
