My husband and I are still digging through the freezer, pulling out the neat little paper-wrapped meat packages my father-in-law gave us for Christmas. The other day we pulled out a pack of short ribs – perfect for cold weather, something you can keep on the stove all day.
The packages are labelled and we have a book to tell us how to cook what. My husband also looks at recipes online, reading over comments from other people. Finally he makes his own plan. We almost never do the same thing, the same way, twice. Unless it’s “Tim’s Too Much Garlic Chicken,” but that’s another blog.
The short ribs start out in a skillet on the stove top, floured and browned crispy on the outside, still rare on the inside. Meanwhile I’m peeling carrots and potatoes, and my husband is making this sauce – we had to go to the store to buy the right beer.
Leave it to the English, to make alcohol out of hot cereal! My grandpa George came from Derbyshire, not far from where this beer is made. They talk funny there, you need a translator. It may be the beer.
Amid all this I was trying to get a loaf of bread in the oven, our kitchen counter was a mess of various ingredients. In Winter, it’s nice to start your cooking in the morning, gets the apartment warm and smelling good.
The carrots went right in, they are hard and tend to stay in one piece, soaking up all that juicy goodness. The carrots alone would be quite a fancy feast. But later we added russet and sweet potatoes.
It was a long day of trying, really hard, not to look in the pot. Every now and then a sneak peak, and then back to work – it was nice to know dinner was already taken care of.
We had that fresh loaf of bread for the brothy juice, it was so good. These are the kind of meals that get us through January. My husband is a great cook – like the Pointer Sisters, I like a man with a slow hand.