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My first time doing a braise, I ruined a weekend’s worth of octopus.
I was a young, over-confident line cook who—until this particular catastrophe—was convinced I was allergic to mistakes. So, when I placed two trays of wine-bathing octopus into a 400…
My first time doing a braise, I ruined a weekend’s worth of octopus.
I was a young, over-confident line cook who—until this particular catastrophe—was convinced I was allergic to mistakes. So, when I placed two trays of wine-bathing octopus into a 400°F oven for four hours, I felt great. I closed that oven door and thought, “Wow, it’s going to be hard for the chef not to promote me after this.”
The first stew recipe I ever made was about as ambitious as it gets—bouillabaisse, a French fish stew that involved pounds of fresh fish, including a whole live lobster that I killed with my bare hands. (Ok, well, my bare hands gripping a knife.) This …
The first stew recipe I ever made was about as ambitious as it gets—bouillabaisse, a French fish stew that involved pounds of fresh fish, including a whole live lobster that I killed with my bare hands. (Ok, well, my bare hands gripping a knife.) This was Valentine’s Day in 2018. At the time, I was working as a line cook at a French restaurant and felt equipped for the task. I went over the ins and outs of this dish with the executive chef for weeks leading up to February 14th. He even ordered live lobsters to teach me how to kill them.
But when Valentine’s Day came and I brought the lobster home like a newborn baby, swaddled in a thin plastic bag, the only knife available to me to use was a dull, mail-order Ginsu. Eventually, I succeeded in killing the lobster, but not without causing physical and emotional pain to both it and myself. When I showed the chef a video replaying the events, he told me it was the most violent thing he had ever witnessed and was slow to sing my praises. But I did it. And six hours later, dinner was served to my boyfriend, now fiancé. (I guess my plan to impress worked?)
Every month, in Off-Script With Sohla, pro chef and flavor whisperer Sohla El-Waylly will introduce you to a must-know cooking technique—and then teach you how to detour it toward new adventures.
What comes to mind when I say the word braise? A big,…
Every month, in Off-Script With Sohla, pro chef and flavor whisperer Sohla El-Waylly will introduce you to a must-know cooking technique—and then teach you how to detour it toward new adventures.
What comes to mind when I say the word braise? A big, honkin' piece of meat cooked until wiggly and tender. That's because braising gets the most out of tough cuts like lamb shanks, short ribs, and chicken thighs. But don't let those beefy hunks hog all your attention. This gentle method works wonders for hearty vegetables like carrots, mushrooms, and winter squash.
(It’s the end of the long workday (or the start of an extra-long week) and we’re hungry. Like, “can’t-think-straight” hungry. Luckily, Food52 contributor EmilyC wants to do all the thinking for us. In Dinner’s Ready, her monthly column on weeknight won…
(It's the end of the long workday (or the start of an extra-long week) and we're hungry. Like, "can't-think-straight" hungry. Luckily, Food52 contributor EmilyC wants to do all the thinking for us. In Dinner's Ready, her monthly column on weeknight wonders, she shares three simple, flavor-packed recipes that are connected by a single idea or ingredient. Stick with Emily, and you'll have a good dinner on the table in no time. Today, three hearty, wintry braises that don't need to simmer all day on the stove.
Braising may bring to mind tough cuts of meat like short ribs, lamb shanks, and pork shoulder that slowly simmer away for hours until meltingly tender. It’s a mostly hands-off cooking technique perfect for a Sunday afternoon of puttering around the house doing chores, or cozying-up with a blanket and a movie.
Inspired by conversations on the Food52 Hotline, we’re sharing tips and tricks that make navigating all of our kitchens easier and more fun.
Today: Don’t wash away them most flavorful bits in your pan. They’re called fond, and they’re the sta…
Inspired by conversations on the Food52 Hotline, we're sharing tips and tricks that make navigating all of our kitchens easier and more fun.
Today: Don't wash away them most flavorful bits in your pan. They're called fond, and they're the start of a very good pan sauce. Here's what you need to know.
When the world seems like an especially confusing place, when everything feels out of our control, when we need something to help make our days a little brighter and better—we turn to cooking. Cooking channels our creative energy, keeps our hands busy …
When the world seems like an especially confusing place, when everything feels out of our control, when we need something to help make our days a little brighter and better—we turn to cooking. Cooking channels our creative energy, keeps our hands busy and our minds clear, and gives us a satisfying end product to enjoy when we’re done.
Whether you prefer to meditatively roll and slice pasta sheets, stir a skillet of gently caramelizing onions, or lovingly shape and fold crusty loaves of sourdough, we’ve got some ideas. Here are 15 recipes to keep your hands busy and your stomachs full during even the most stressful times (like...right now).
There are times when lazy cooking and delicious cooking overlap. They don’t always overlap, but when they do, it’s glorious. The Venn diagram of this relationship would show lazy cooking as one circle, delicious cooking as another circle, and firmly in…
There are times when lazy cooking and delicious cooking overlap. They don’t always overlap, but when they do, it’s glorious. The Venn diagram of this relationship would show lazy cooking as one circle, delicious cooking as another circle, and firmly inside their small shared overlap, “slow weekend braises.”
In order to achieve peak laziness alongside peak deliciousness, the trick is to know which rules are essential and which can be ignored with impunity.
There are, for me, two kinds of recipes, one for each mood: The first kind is quick and easy, like the 30-minute lemon chicken I make when I come home from work hungry and don’t want to think too hard about what I’m feeding myself. The second is for wh…
There are, for me, two kinds of recipes, one for each mood: The first kind is quick and easy, like the 30-minute lemon chicken I make when I come home from work hungry and don't want to think too hard about what I'm feeding myself. The second is for when I'm feeding someone else, usually something special I'm excited to share; these take more time, and just a little bit more care.
Like this braised onion pasta, which takes at least two hours to prepare. Even longer if you're making fresh pasta (which, for this recipe, I always do).