Bacon, Sausage and Shortrib Cassoulet with Rancho Gordo Yellow Beans

Oh hi, everyone!
It's been a while since I last posted on here. Come to think of it, its been a while since I posted on East West Pastry, too. Whoops. A lot happened that made me really not want to blog, although I never stopped cooking, tweeting, or being weird, as I'm sure many of you have noticed. Two big things that happened: I got laid off at my only-okay job, and managed to snag a pretty damn good one where I get to design stuff all day. Awesome! Unfortunately it doesn't leave me a lot of time for blog posting, but nothing new there, I suppose.

This Saturday I was attempting to simultaneously make something for a dinner party and clean out my freezer/pantry at the same time, my goal to use as much frozen meat and other stuff lying around as I could manage in one go. I decided on a sort of cassoulet, using bacon, andouille sausage and english short rib on the bone. The reason I went cassoulet and not just a regular stew was that I had a pound of dried beans and as of yet had not had the opportunity to use them.

Some random thoughts about beans.
 I was going to do a dedicated illustration, but then I got distracted...

Rancho Gordo yellow-eye beans are what I had on hand, but whether your beans are fancy or unfancy, learning how to use dried beans is something everyone should try.
I'd grown up on canned beans and strange as it sounds, never had the opportunity to actually make something bean-y from the dried product.
Dried beans are far more time intensive than simply opening a can, but the benefits are great - you get direct control over the taste of the bean and the level of sodium. Also, it's cheap. Unless you get Rancho Gordo beans- but then you pay for the novelty of heirloom, right?

Who can say whether its because I used fancy beans or because I simply mastered how to cook them properly, but either way, this bean and meat stew is great - like a cross between a meaty beef stew and the best chili you've ever had.
Good enough that I had to come back after several months and post, just so that I could share the recipe. Enjoy!

Bacon, Sausage and Shortrib Cassoulet with Rancho Gordo Yellow-Eye Beans

Beans:

• Rancho gordo yellow-eye beans, 16oz – soaked for at least an hour, more preferable.
• One onion, sliced in half and each half skewered with a clove
• Three cloves garlic
• Dried thyme, dried parsley, ½ tsp each, one bay leaf
• Water to cover

Meat:

• 2 andouille sausages
• 5 portions of English short rib on the bone (bonus if butcher can separate meat from bone and chunk the meat for you)
• 4 slices of bacon, cut into lardons

Flavor-builders:

• 1 green bell pepper, diced fine
• 1 onion, diced fine
• 2 small carrots, diced fine
• 1 stalk celery, diced fine
• 3 cloves garlic, peeled
• Creole seasoning (paprika, onion powder, garlic powder, celery salt, salt, pepper, thyme, cayenne pepper) – to taste

Sauce:

• Splash of red wine
• 1 large can of diced tomatoes, in juice
• 1 tsp tomato paste

1. Combine the bean stuff in a pot and bring to a boil – lower to a simmer once there and let simmer for an hour to an hour and a half, or until the beans are just about done. ‘about done’ is when they are edible, still a little mealy.
2. While the beans are boiling, prepare the meat. Prep your short-ribs by sprinkling salt and pepper on both sides (and dredge in flour if you desire). Add grape-seed oil to a large Dutch oven and bring to high heat. Working in batches, brown the short rib and bones, making sure to get a good sear on both sides. Be sure not to crowd the pot. Remove to a plate and reserve for later. Prick the sausages with a fork and brown on all sides, then cut into fourths and reserve.
3. Add the bacon lardons to the pot and fry the bacon, stirring constantly so nothing burns. Once the bacon is well along, turn down the heat to medium and add the flavor-builders and spices, along with some salt and pepper. Cook, stirring often, until the vegetables have softened and cooked down. 
4. Add a splash of red wine when it starts to look dry, scraping and stirring up everything that’s stuck to the bottom of the pot. 
5. When the mixture begins to boil, add the tomatoes and tomato paste. Bring to simmer and cook for about 10 minutes or until the mix is reduced slightly.
6. Pre-heat your oven to 300 degrees.
7. When the beans are done, strain the beans over a bowl to retain the bean broth, then put the beans in a bowl and remove the onion, bay leaf, and little bits of bean skin that are easy to remove. Save the bean broth.
8. Stir the beans into your tomato mixture. Add the meat back into the pot, pushing everything down into the bean and sauce so that all the meat is more or less covered. Add enough of the bean broth to cover all.
9. Bake, covered, in a 300 degree oven for about 3 hours or until the meat is falling off the bone. 

Chicken and Dumplings.

This scribble has deep philosophical meaning tied to this
topic. Probably. I draw good on my iPad.

I grew up thinking that my mom was one heck of a cook.
She certainly didn't fail to put dinner on the table every night - which I've found, as I struggle to do the same in my own life, is no small feat. The food was good. We ate it.
As I, little bird that I am, flew off into the world, I found myself calling her every so often for advice to try and recreate those meals that I had had so often as a kid. Stuffed Shells. Manicotti. Turkey and Mashed Potatoes. Pot Pie. Chicken and Dumplings.
I was disappointed to hear that the answer, on the whole, was some version of the following:
"Oh, you know, I just got it off the back of the Bisquick box."

With maturity comes disillusionment. Mama's cooking, like many american women in her generation, was mostly off the back of a soup can.
For a while, I felt robbed. I'd hear about someone else's Jewish or Italian or Chinese mother and the mysteries that they worked each night in the kitchen - the lore passed on from generation to generation. I didn't have a cuisine like that. I didn't have a food background at all. Or at least I felt so at the time.

I've since come to realize that soup-can, back of box cooking has a place in american food history just like everything else. No, it isn't from scratch. Yes, it represents an entire generation of women who never really learned how to cook. But those women did the best they could, and managed to feed my generation of future cooks anyway.

I live in a household of two, where each of us work late and dinner is something cobbled together at 11pm many nights. Yes, I cook from scratch, but it's every couple of days and supplemented by takeout and pantry foraging. I could never imagine doing it on a daily basis to feed a family of 5 - not on my schedule. So perhaps there's something to be said for the short-cuts, the quick-fixes.

Except in one case.
Chicken stock.

I've rambled on about chicken stock before on this blog, so I'll keep it short. There is never, ever, any excuse to use boxed chicken stock, ever.
You make a chicken for dinner, or you pick a rotisserie chicken up at the grocery store. You cut off the meat to eat that night. Then you put the carcass in a pot with a carrot, an onion with the skin on, and a piece of celery if you have one. You cover it with water. You put the heat on low and let it simmer until its time to go to bed. You put the pot in the fridge. You take it out whenever - the next day, a few days from then - you heat it back up, you strain it into another pot, let it cool, and you freeze it in baggies. Done. Pretty much impossible to fuck up.

My mothers recipe for Chicken and Dumplings includes boxed Swanson's chicken stock, chicken, potatoes, carrots, and Bisquick mix.
I made my own chicken stock from the leftover carcass of a rotisserie chicken.
Oh, but Jennifer, you say, why would you EVER not roast your own chicken? Its soo easy!
Well, it is easy. And if I was home at a reasonable hour, I would. But I don't - I get home at 9pm or so most nights. Cooking a chicken is mostly unattended, but it still takes an hour, and you have to, like, be there for that. Making chicken stock for later on, unlike roasting a chicken, is something you can do post or during dinner. Big difference.

ANYWAY -
As I've said, I will take short cuts on some things, and on others I never shall. But on this particular dish, I will admit to this: the dumplings are, despite myself, made from Bisquick.
I can, and have, made dumpling mix from scratch, but it never tastes the same as the one I grew up with. So despite my aversion, I have to go back to the Bisquick Box.

Mmm, chemicals.

Mom's Chicken and Dumplings with Short-Cuts and Long-Cuts like a Hipster Hairstyle:


Stew:

• 3 cups homemade chicken stock
• 3 russet potatoes, peeled and diced
• 2 large carrots, peeled and chopped
• 2 cups worth of shredded chicken
• 1 teaspoon flour
• splash of milk

Dumplings:

• 2 cups Bisquick
• 2/3 cup milk

1. Add the potatoes and carrots to the stock and bring to a boil, then lower the heat to a simmer.
2. When the potatoes and carrots are soft, add the chicken.
3. whisk the flour and milk together in a cup to make a slurry (so that there are no lumps) - add to the stew to thicken.
4. Season the stew to taste.
5. Mix together the Bisquick mix and milk to make a soft dough. Use a spoon to gently (GENTLY!) drop on top of the stew. Cook for 10 minutes uncovered, 10 minutes covered.

Serve with something green to counterbalance such heavy food. Eat. Reminisce about childhood. Feel slightly bad about using Bisquick.

(Confused? Thought that you'd be reading an entry about how awesome I am for Project Food Blog? Sorry but I just don't roll like that. This entry is very indicative of my blog and my style - honest, straight up, wierd and totally random, with strange scribbles and rambling rants. And delicious recipes, I promise. Welcome. If you like it, please Vote for Me. )