Julia and Me: Boeuf Bourguignon

How could I not write about Julie & Julia, a movie about blogging and cooking? When I toiled as a cube rat, I explained any absence with a note, "Currently in the South of France." More than any other travel spot, France has long occupied my dream of choice. Imagine my delight then, when the movie opens with a golden lit scene in 1949 Paris along the Seine as a shiny-new Citroen woody is carefully craned from a ship onto a loading dock.

The rest of the movie maintained that personal high note, creating a Paris untouched by fast food, angry protesters, war-caused rubble, or cellphones. I'll never know whether or not Nora Ephron's vision is accurate and certainly won't investigate; and I couldn't say the movie is among the greats, but I seldom have enjoyed a movie more. It celebrates worthwhile eating, the pleasures of cooking, the beauty of a time past, and the joys of a long-term marriage.

Julia came with me to my first "real" restaurant: La Petite Maison in Olympia Wa. MTAOFC was always open in the back kitchen to Coq Au Vin, Supremes de Volaille a Blanc, Beurre Blanc, Duxelles, Creme Anglaise, or Tarte Tatin. Julia taught Rick O'Reilly to cook French food, and Rick taught me.

In the Los Angeles 80's restaurant scene, there was only one degree of separation between Julia and me. Although I never met or saw Julia Child, she and Milliken/Feniger frequently found themselves together at charity occasions. Julia loved the girls' spunk, hard work ethic, and professional skills; they, of course, were smitten by her generosity of spirit and her large personality.

In the early 90's when I cooked on a pleasure boat, captained by Tom Allen, that was cruising through the Canadian San Juans, Julia's recipe for Plain French Bread went along. By the end of the twelve-day trip, Julia and I were producing three fine loaves of crackly French bread every day. By the time I worked for Tom Douglas in 1991, Julia was eighty; fusion cooking and the great Asian influence reigned over the culinary world. Julia's books moved from storefront windows back into the stacks. Thanks to Nora Ephron http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2009/07/06/090706fa_fact_levy and a young blogger, Julia is back in the front window again.

Anyways, yesterday I felt the first nudge of fall, that cool whisper even in the hot sun; a sure sign that summer won't last forever—time to start thinking about Boeuf Bourguignon, Coq Au Vin, and Tart Tatin.

Here's a link to an interesting New York Times article about Julia and the contemporary American food culture.

Boeuf Bourguignon (for 6 people)

From Julia Child's, Mastering the Art of French Cooking

Pre-heat oven to 425 degrees.

10 minutes in 1 1/2 qts. water. Drain and dry.

Sauté bacon in olive oil over moderate heat for 2-3 minutes to brown lightly. Remove to side dish with

a slotted spoon. Set casserole aside. Reheat until fat is almost smoking before you sauce the beef.

Dry the beef carefully in paper towels; it will not brown if it is damp. Sauté it, a few pieces at a time, in

the hot oil and bacon fat until nicely browned on all sides. Ad it to the bacon.

In the same fat, brown the sliced vegetables. Pour out the sautéing fat.

Return the beef and bacon to the casserole and toss with the salt and pepper. Then sprinkle on the flour

and toss again to coat the beef lightly with the flour. Set casserole uncovered in middle position of pre-heated oven for 4 minutes. Toss the meat and return to oven for 4 minutes more. (This browns the flour and covers th meat with a light crust.) Remove casserole, and turn oven down to 325 degrees.

Stir in the wine, and enough stock so that the meat is barely covered. Add the tomato paste, garlic, herbs, and bacon rind. Bring to a simmer on top of the stove. Then cover the casserole and set in lower third of pre-heated oven. Regulate heat so liquid simmers very slowly for 3-4 hours. The meat is done when a fork pierces it easily.

While the beef is cooking, prepare the onions and mushrooms. Set them aside.

When the meat is tender, pour the contents of the casserole into a sieve set over a saucepan. Wash out the casserole and return the beef and bacon to it. Distribute the cooked onions and mushrooms over the meat.

Skim fat off the sauce. Simmer sauce for a minute or two, skimming off additional fat as it rises. You should have about 2 1/2 cups of sauce thick enough to coat a spoon lightly. If too thin, boil it down rapidly. If too thick, mix in a few tablespoons of stock. Taste carefully for seasoning. Serve in its casserole or arrange the stew on a platter surrounded with potatoes, rice, or noodles.