The Hungry Poet: Stew
Subscribe to my monthly newsletter here for all my latest writing.
If, as John Keats wrote, autumn is the season of 'mists and mellow fruitfulness' it's also the season of cooking meat and veg in a big pot for hours on end. In short, the season of stew. In Northern Irish vernacular 'to stew' is a pejorative term, meaning to brood for a long time over a matter. Indeed, it's not a very appetising word, is it? Stew? Especially when said in the flat vowels of the Ulster accent, which seems to emphasise and elongate the 'ew' part, as in 'eugh', or the sound children make to denote something being unappetising. And, indeed, when it was stew night at home, this was not necessarily a night to look forward to. How did it rank, I wonder, alongside a dish like mince and potato? Hmm, it wasn't far away in the league table of fairly boring meals when I look back. I seem to remember in particular the lumps of potato and watery broth with carrots and maybe pearl barley floating in there, and a strong taste of pepper and some meat that may or may not have been a bit chewy. But, oh the ignorance of youth. I write this on the 1st November, and I've already made my third batch of stew so far this autumn.
Stew, while having certain ingredients which can't be disputed such as potatoes, meat and carrots, it strikes me as one of those dishes that defies one singular recipe, like Bolognese. In fact, perhaps we could call it the Irish Bolognese, in that regard. I suppose in France they have Coq au Vin or Beef Bourguignon. When it comes to Irish stew, I suppose it's a cousin of those dishes, and while having some ingredients in common, there is another element which binds them all together: and that's the amount of time it takes to cook them properly. And that is to say hours and hours. I'm not interested in 1-hour stews, and I don't much like the idea of slow cookers. There is something about their plasticky interiors that puts me off and makes me feel they're not conducive to building flavour. I much prefer my beefy, veggie concoction to bubble away for at least three hours on the lowest gas setting in the cast iron pot. And then I like to chill it overnight and serve the next day. Not only does this mean you've made it ahead, but according to scientists when food is cooked and then chilled, it allows the enzymes to break down further and for the texture and flavour to improve. It also makes it look really glossy and deep in colour.
Sometimes I also like to add about 500ml of red wine, and while this may upset some of the trad stewers among you, it doesn't half add depth of flavour and colour.
Alas, it's too late for Keats to edit the word 'stew' into his poem.
