Sauerbraten: The blog that has been 2 years in the making

A few years ago my dad decided he was going to work with each member of my family to prepare one of the three holiday meals (Christmas Eve, Christmas, and New Year's) that my family has.  I chose Christmas dinner, and then grabbed the German cookbook to decide what to make.  I chose German because a lot of our Christmas traditions come from Germany-- Christmas trees and "Silent Night," for instance.  I also lived for a year in Germany, and miss it most at Christmastime.  I flipped through the book, and decided on Sauerbraten.  I'd never had it, in spite of it being a German classic.  It's a sweet-and-sour dish, and, what makes it perfect for Christmas, it features a gravy thickened with gingersnaps. I've made it every year since, which has allowed me to work out some of the mistakes I made the first time.  I told my host mom about making it, and she asked without missing a beat how long I marinaded it.  A true Sauerbraten, she informed me, MUST be marinaded for days; good thing my recipe does.  I would've hated to disappoint her.

And a quick note on photos-- I started this two years ago, but didn't have half the photos I wanted; I took some more this past year, and now am able to finish.

Sauerbraten

2.5 lb Beef roast
2 onions
1 carrot
2 celery stalks
2/3 C red wine vinegar
1 bay leaf
6 cloves
6 black peppercorns
1 Tbsp dark brown sugar
2 tsp salt
1 onion
4 oz. bacon
1 Tbsp cornstarch
Gingersnaps

*This text color indicates a non-marinade ingredient, which won't be needed until 3 days after the others.

Cut the 2 onions into wedges or slices.  Slice the carrot and celery into medallions.  Place the prepared veggies and 2 1/2 C water in a saucepan.  Bring it to boil, then reduce it to a simmer and allow it to cook for about 5 minutes.  Add the vinegar, bay leaf, cloves, peppercorns, sugar, and salt.  Simmer 5 minutes more, then cover and COOL COMPLETELY.  I have found it best to make this in the evening  four days before you plan to serve the Sauerbraten and let it cool overnight.

Once your marinade has cooled, place the roast in a casserole dish and pour the marinade over.  It should be a tight fit.  Cover the dish and place it in the fridge.  You will marinade it for 3 days, flipping the roast over each day.  I've found this to be easiest if you start by scooping out marinade ingredients and maybe even pour off some of the marinade first.  Replace it all once you've flipped the meat.

After three days, dice another onion and the bacon, then remove the roast, and dry it thoroughly.  Don't throw out the marinade just yet.  Heat a couple tablespoons oil in a large pan over medium-high heat, and sear the beef on all sides.  Set it aside, then place the onions in the pan and reduce the heat to medium.  After about 5 minutes of sautéing, add the bacon, and continue to cook until the bacon is brown.

Transfer the onion and bacon to a soup pot and place the beef on top.  Strain the liquid from the marinade into the stock pot.  Slowly bring it to a boil, then cover it and simmer over low heat until the beef is tender.  The recipe says about 2 hours, but I ALWAYS need more time… probably closer to 4 hours.

While the simmering is going on, begin crushing gingersnaps.  You will need a total of 1 C gingersnap crumbs.

Once the beef is tender, take it out and set it aside.  Keep it warm, though.  Make a slurry of cornstarch and cold water, and whisk that and the gingersnap crumbs into the liquid.  Bring to a boil and continue stirring until thickened.  Slice the beef and serve with noodles (or Spätzle) and gravy, garnishing, if desired, with fresh parsley.  

I tried to make clear the mistakes I've made along the way, but just to be sure, here they are again.  I assume if I made them, others might, too.  
1) I didn't cool the marinade completely.  It cooked the meat surface a little, and that resulted in a weird texture and less-than-ideal marinading.  
2) I didn't simmer the beef long enough.  After 2 1/2 hours I was impatient and hungry, and served it.  It was tough.  The longer cook time is important, because a tender Sauerbraten is amazing!
3) I didn't whisk or stir as vigorously as I should have when adding the gingersnap crumbs.  I wound up with lumps.  Normally, lumps strike me as a cosmetic issue.  But with gingersnaps, the clumps have a weird gummy texture and a distinct, sweet flavor.  It's jarring.  

I love this.  It's got such a wonderful, Christmas-y flavor.  The gingersnaps are balanced by the vinegar so you don't get overwhelmed by sweet (or vice versa).  Instead, they just contribute some more flavor complexity.  And that gravy is what makes the dish for me.  The roast cooks down a lot, so if you're cooking for a family, there probably won't be too much left over.  If you cook it to tenderness, it's a delight to eat.  It marries well with the gravy and the whole thing just melts in your mouth.  Serving with the noodles or Spätzle is a good idea; I tried it with potatoes once and it just doesn't quite have the right texture to complement the Sauerbraten.  

Take away message: don't let the name throw you.  Sauerbraten is a delicious, festive comfort food.  It just takes a little time to do it right.

This might be what warmth tastes like…

I love soup.  There are so many varieties, hot soups, cold soups, thick soups, clear soups… There is a soup for every person.  And generally soup isn't too hard to make.  Generally.  So I had clipped this recipe for leek and cabbage soup when I saw it in the New York Times Dining Section.  I was also hoping it would be a good way to eat cabbage, a vegetable that I appreciate more than I like.  

Cabbage is in season from June to October in the northern hemisphere, but I've never lived anywhere that I wasn't able to get it year round (we won't go into that here…)  So I've always seen it.  I like it mixed into my salads, it turns out that they put it in Runzas (how sneaky!), and my oma (German grandmother) makes absolutely delicious spiced red cabbage.  Beyond that, though, I've never cared much for it.  I didn't even like coleslaw until college.

But I wanted to like cabbage.  It's such a homey vegetable.  Red cabbage looks lovely.  And it's so traditional.  A lot of European comfort foods include it.  In fact, this soup is a comfort food.  So, when I planned to make soup and had a half a head of cabbage left over from another recipe, I decided to give it a try.  I mean, that is why I clipped it, right?  

Cabbage, Potato, and Leek Soup
2 leeks
1/2- 1 head cabbage
6 Tbsp butter
2 cloves garlic
3 medium-sized baking potatoes
2 C chicken stock
2 sprigs thyme
salt and pepper (to taste)
parmesan (as garnish)

Begin by prepping your veggies.  Discard the dark green portion of the leeks, and thinly slice and wash the remainder.  (I wash after slicing; you can do so before.  Either way, make sure you get the dirt out from between the leaves!)  Shred the cabbage.  (I had about 3/4 of a Napa cabbage left, so I used that.  It doesn't go onto a grater very well, but using a knife to thinly shave off pieces from the top of the head worked quite well.)  Mince the garlic, and peel and dice the potatoes.

Melt the butter over medium-high heat in your soup pot, then add the leeks and cook until soft and barely caramelized (about 7 minutes).  Add the cabbage and garlic (it will cook down!).  Stir occasionally until the cabbage begins to caramelize, (about 10 minutes).

Add the potatoes, stock, water, salt, and thyme.  Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook, partially covered, until the potatoes are falling apart, about 45 minutes.  Add water if you feel the soup is too thick.  Season taste with pepper and additional salt, and serve with parmesan cheese on top.


So, I was a little skeptical.  My husband was too.  But we were both like, "Oh, if you're willing to make/try it, I will try/make it."  And you know what?  This was good!   I thought it might upset my stomach the way sauerkraut does--nope!  I thought it might have a weird, slimy texture-- Nope!  My husband was even happy to eat the leftovers, "I liked it!" he said with enthusiasm when I asked.  For only a few ingredients, there was a lot of deep, rich flavor.  This truly was a comfort food.  There are enough veggies in it that it was filling, but they're cooked soft enough that it's not too much to chew through.  It was almost creamy from the potato starch.  It didn't leave me craving anything else, except maybe more.  Luckily, it made more than just the 4 servings that the recipe described.

I Can… Apple Pie

Back in the fall, I got really excited about local apples.  My husband humored me, saying we could make apple pie filling.  He was thinking the kind that you put in the freezer.  But our freezer is always full of frozen fruit, meat, chicken stock, and leftovers.  I don't have space for something I know I can keep on a shelf.  A friend of mine had made canned peach pie filling.  Apple was clearly doable.  I found a recipe online, and so we hauled out my canning supplies one more time.  Sadly, I don't remember where I found the recipe I used; I thought the blogger was delightful.  Luckily, I found a similar recipe again on All Recipes.

Canned Apple Pie Filling

1 bushel apples

4 1/2 C sugar

1 C cornstarch

Cinnamon

Nutmeg
Ginger

2 tsp kosher or canning salt

10 C water

3 Tbsp lemon juice

Wash your quart-sized canning jars (you'll need about 7).  Peel, core, and chop the apples as you like for pie.  Pack them into 1-quart jars, leaving 1 inch of headspace on top.  This is about the time I panic and have to run to the store because I simply do not have enough jars.  Now, make syrup!  In a large stockpot, combine the sugar, cornstarch, spices (to taste--dried spices aren't going to mess up your preservation chemistry), salt, and water.  Bring to a boil and cook until thickened and bubbly.  I also threw in some of the apple cores, to infuse a little extra apple flavor.  When thick and bubbly, remove from heat and stir in the lemon juice.  For once, DO NOT use fresh lemon juice.  The pH can vary, and you need control when preserving.  Pour or ladle the syrup over the apple chunks in the jars.  I ended up ladling some in each jar, letting it settle while I filled the others, and re-filling.  You want to get the jar completely full and get out as much air as possible.  Use a knife or cake tester to help fill the tiny crevices.  Wipe the rims clean, place the lids on top, and put on the rims to "finger tightness".  Bring your canning bath to a boil, and process the jars for 20 minutes.  Allow to cool completely without messing with the jars.  After they are completely cool, tighten the rims and clean up the jars as you feel necessary.

To make pie, pour 1 quart of pie filling into an unbaked pie crust.  Top with a second crust if desired, sprinkle with a bit of sugar, and bake for 30 minutes at 400˚ F.  Alternately, bake without a second crust, and top with a caramel sauce, as pictured here.

This is really yummy, actually.  I've made it with a lattice top as well as the caramel pictured above.  I've gifted it to a couple people, and they really enjoyed it, too.  I liked that I still had control over the spices-- I went heavier on the cinnamon, lighter on the ginger and nutmeg.  I had some leftover syrup from that, which is GREAT on peanut butter toast.  The blog I adapted my recipe from recommended it on waffles.  Plus, I have a friend who likes pie filling more than pie-- this is a great thing for someone like her.  

This did get a little messy, which was frustrating.  The filling oozed out during processing, and so I wound up with a teensy bit of mold under the rims.  (The jars still sealed properly, so there wasn't anything under the seal/ in the jar.  Just on the threads of the rim.)  Which isn't really a big deal to me, because I unscrew the rim, clean it up, and I'm good to go, but it made me a little reluctant to share with some people, because it looks… gross.  Still, better to deal with that than to dislodge the seal immediately after canning.  And the filling in the jar really is wonderful.