The Sauerbraten Tradition

Leaf-turning-pumpkin-mums-hot cider season. October. Thirty-one days of color culminating in an eve of children wandering in the dark in eccentric clothing begging for white sugar.

Love it.

For as long as I can remember, October was sauerbraten season. My father (not exactly Italian!) had sauerbraten on his October birthday since childhood. Great-Grandma Schmidt and Great Aunt Elsie and Great Aunt Helen were always at the helm of this birthday dinner. I do have one of those tug-at-your-heart-holiday tales regarding sauerbraten and my two great aunts carrying a sauerbraten roast, gravy, red cabbage, dumplings and the requisite pitcher of Manhattans on two subways and a bus (from the Bronx to Queens) during a particularly difficult New Year's Eve. Their intent was to nourish body and soul. It was a spirit-saver. The post is here: My Three Magi. There's also a simpler version of sauerbraten there as I hadn't found my mother's yet.

My father passed five years ago. Nobody had the heart to make the sauerbraten for a while. And then my mother joined my father and the sauerbraten meal remained in the past. Until this year. It was time to revive happy celebrations.

My sister brought me the sauerbraten roaster that my mother used for ... let's just kindly say - decades. And I have her metal potato ricer - equally as old. I like tradition. I like playing with new but never, ever discarding the old. And that makes me fortunate because my "old" is filled with loving memory. And I loved, loved having the sauerbraten in that little blue roaster in my oven.

This is one of those things where almost all the work is done ahead of time (chorus of happy singing just started) and the work on the day of the meal (including the gravy) couldn't be easier.  So there's this ingredient list - looks long. It is long - but it's water and two types of vinegar and things like salt and sugar - nothing you need to go find at a specialty store.

And then - you get this. Tender. Warm. Autumn. October. Good.

Marinade and Meat (serves 4, easily doubled)
This is basically my great-grandmother's recipe. The addition of juniper berries and mustard seeds came from Alton Brown and I thought it was fun. I also happened to have juniper berries in my spice closet. Don't go crazy trying to find them. They are easily omitted.

3-1/2 - 4 pound *top round roast
*About the roast? You want a decent roast - certainly not a tenderloin - but not grizzly and fatty (I did trim) and you want a low roast. The sirloin tip roasts I looked at were way too tall. This should be a long, low roast. It soaks in the marinade better. Even my low roast had to be turned daily as it was not completely covered.

Marinade Ingredients - here we go!
2 cups water
1 cup cider vinegar
1 cup red wine vinegar
1 medium onion - chopped
1 large carrot - chopped
1 tablespoon Kosher salt and 1 teaspoon Kosher salt for seasoning meat
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
2 bay leaves
6 whole cloves
 12 juniper berries (can omit)
1 teaspoon mustard seeds (can omit)
1 tablespoon vegetable oil

Before cooking:
1/3 cup sugar

For gravy:
18 gingersnap cookies - crushed

1. Combine water, vinegars, onion, carrot, 1 tablespoon of the Kosher salt, pepper, bay leaves, cloves, juniper berries and mustard seeds in saucepan. Cover and bring to a boil. Simmer ten minutes. Set aside to cool.
2. Pat meat dry and rub vegetable oil all over. Rub in the teaspoon of Kosher salt. Heat a sauté pan over medium-high heat and brown on all sides. (About three minutes a side.)
3. Place meat in a non-reactive container. Poor cooled marinade over it and refrigerate for 3-5 days (I did five days) turning daily if not completely submerged.
4. When ready to cook, place rack in middle of oven and preheat to 325 F. Add the sugar to the marinade. Cook covered for four hours.
5. Remove meat and keep warm.

GRAVY (so easy)
1. Strain liquid to remove solids. Place in pan over medium-high heat. Whisk in gingersnaps and cook till thickened, stirring occasionally. Strain again to remove lumps (I didn't). You also do not need to de-fat this. I did skim the top once. Slice meat and serve.

And do serve with these dumplings. They're surprisingly easy and all the work is done ahead of time (except for the boiling).

Boil the potatoes in their jackets the day before. You can do all the steps except for the actual cooking of the dumplings the morning of the dinner.

Dumplings - makes 12 - supposedly serves 6 - (HA! I doubled the recipe for six people. None were left!)
1-1/2 pounds Russet potatoes (about 2 large). Do use Russet - they are low moisture and the dumplings hold together well
1-1/2 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg (you can use more)
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/8 cup cornstarch
1 large egg

DAY BEFORE: Cook scrubbed, unpeeled potatoes in a large pot of salted boiling water for 45 minutes. Refrigerate over night. Really. Just plan on it.

CAN DO WHILE MEAT IS COOKING; CAN DO MORNING OF MEAL:
1. Peel potatoes and run through a potato ricer. You can mash them - but the ricer really makes them smooth.
2. Mix in salt and nutmeg.
3. Using hands, mix in flour and cornstarch. Knead until it forms a smooth dough. You can add more flour if it is sticky. I didn't need to.
4. Add egg and mix in using your hands. (The best kitchen utensil by far!)
5. Form dough into balls using 1/4 cup for each.

If making ahead: place balls on a pan lined with wax paper lightly dusted with flour. Refrigerate.

When ready to cook: (I was making 24 dumplings so I started the process 20 minutes before the meat was ready.)

Cook dumplings in nearly/almost not-quite boiling, salted water. Only cook four at a time - you don't want them touching each other and sticking to each other while cooking. Semi-boil for ten-fifteen minutes (until they rise to the top). You can cover them to keep them warm or put them in a warm oven (I turned off the oven when the meat came out and placed the dumplings in it while the other dumplings cooked.)

Do serve with red cabbage. Do buy the jars of red cabbage. You don't have to make everything.

There were six of us for the sauerbraten meal - six family members reliving old tradition that happened to be delicious. And there was sweet remembrance at the table.

These are bonus days. Only one hard frost and I am still enjoying geraniums, shrub roses, petunias, violets, mums and herbs. The burning bushes are bursting fiery red. More candles will get lit as the days get darker.

Our King Maple had to come down this week. We will miss it (and it's accompanying hosta glade). The garden will evolve and the seasons turn. And sometimes you get to return to a past memory. It's different. It, too evolves. But it never goes away.

My Three Magi

There they are. My three Magi. Kings who brought gifts to baby Jesus on Epiphany. Only in my case, it was three Queens. And it was New Year's Eve. Can you stand one more story - if I am succinct? And I promise a delicious recipe at the end? And if you prefer the recipe to the stories, just scroll down!
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I am entrenched in my Italian childhood - I grew up surrounded by Gresios and my father was the honorary Italian. Who had a Scottish mother and a Ukranian father (who is cousin to Otto Schmidt, the Russian explorer which was always a cool fact for me).
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I love the Legend of the three Magi. It has special meaning for me. Memories are part family lore and part shadows in your brain. I have heard the oft-told tale of me sitting on Santa's knee and asking him to bring home my sister from the hospital for Christmas. I am told Santa teared up. And looked helplessly at my mother who was astonished. I was 4-1/2. And I have no memory of that.
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I do have the memory of my six month old sister coming home for Christmas and our Christmas together. And then in a flash - she was back in the hospital. Very sick. My young brain was well aware of that. I was funnelled to the Italian aunts. The week was a blur. Children my age couldn't visit family members in the hospital in those days. Parents couldn't stay over night. And so went Christmas week.
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New Year's Eve came. My parents were both home. Open presents lay neatly under the tree. My sister's baby toys awaited her return. My parents were considering take-out pizza for the greeting of the New Year. We lived in a small one-bedroom apartment in Queens. My parents slept in a hide-a-bed in the living room and I had the large one-bedroom which I was to share with my sister.
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When the doorbell rang. On the other side of the door were my two great-aunts - Aunt Elsie and Aunt Helen. They lived in the Bronx and it was quite a trek to get to Queens from the Bronx. Two subways and two busses. So you can understand that Aunt Elsie and Aunt Helen never just "showed up" on our doorstep. But there they were outside the door, on a snowy New Year's Eve bearing gifts - just as the three Magi had done. Only they arrived six days after Christmas instead of 12 days later.
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They each carried two sturdy shopping bags and Aunt Elsie was balancing a small bag. They knew my parents did not have the heart to ring in the New Year with their baby in the hospital. Aunt Elsie and Aunt Helen had devised a plan with my great-grandmother. A plan to lift their spirits and welcome the New Year with optimism. They walked into the dinner-less kitchen and took over. Aromas of spice filled the air. My parents stood immobile. Stunned.
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"Come on, get the oven going. This will need to be reheated a bit. Set the table. It's New Year's Eve. Don't just stand there!"
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And from the bags emerged a large sauerbraten roast. A roast that had marinated for days under the careful tutelage of my great grandmother. It was cooked to perfection. A bowl filled with red cabbage came next. And then the dumplings - that got my four-year old attention. I knew what I liked to eat and I loved dumplings. And then the gingersnap-spiced beef gravy emerged. Savory and sweet. This was Christmas all over again.
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As the preparation for rewarming the dinner began in earnest, my Aunt Elsie let me see what was in her small bag. I took a sniff. And pulled back. It was definitely not to my liking. Which was a good thing. It was a chilled pitcher of Manhattans - concocted in the Bronx and hand carried to Queens. Age four was definitely not the time to start having a cocktail hour.
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"This pitcher got attention on the subway, I can tell you that," agreed my aunts. "There was a gentleman who kept trying to peek inside. But I shooed him away."
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And the aunts poured a cocktail for themselves, for my parents and a glass of milk for me. We toasted my sister, her health, the New Year and my great grandmother who devised the meal but could not make the long journey from the Bronx to Queens. My aunts were an oasis. A balm for frazzled nerves. A small refuge from the sadness that engulfed my family. My great-grandmother was blind but her loving hands left imprints on the meal. It was she who guided the sauerbraten meal. She who tasted and formed the dumplings and it was she who directed the cooking according to taste and aroma and feel. Her presence was real. She was with us during that meal.
Hours passed and we were sated and warmed. My aunts had to leave. They would not think of staying over night although my parents would have happily let them sleep in the hide-away bed. They would not leave my great-grandmother alone. And the snow was now falling in earnest. My father insisted on driving them and after protestations, it was agreed that he could drive them to the subway station. My aunts were formidable. They could take care of themselves on the subway on New Year's Eve. My father first brought them to the hospital where they visited my sister (after visiting hours! oh the nuns who were nurses must have fluttered!) and then went home as planned - via the subway.
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Before they left, there had been many hugs. When my mother and I were alone, my mother found a crumpled ten dollar bill in her apron pcket. Sneaked in during a hug. And under the tree were two Christmas presents - one for me and one for my sister. My three aunts, my Magi who brought gifts on New Year's Eve. Gifts of food, gifts of drink, gifts of strength and gifts of love. My sisters gift remained under the tree. The tree would soon be a memory. But the gift was waiting for her when she finally did come home.
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A few years later - a happier Christmas even if we look very serioso.

And today (my sister is the stunning one).

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And the recipe: This was my father's birthday dinner every year. I have photobooks filled of us toasting him and no photo of the actual roast. We did not make the dinner last year, but I will this year. And I will use Great-Grandma's recipe.

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Sauerbraten: serves 6-8

*Great Grandma's Tip: Use a good roast - don't go for chuck here - it will shrink away to nothing. It's a celebratory dinner!

• 3-4 pound beef roast
• 1 pint vinegar (white is fine or a red wine)
• 4 bay leaves
• 15 peppercorns
• 6 whole cloves
• 1 sprig chopped parsley
• 2 tablespoons flour seasoned with 1 tablespoon kosher salt and 1/2 teaspoon pepper
• 1/4 butter
• 1 cup sliced onions
• 1-1/2 cups thinly cut carrots
• 12 gingersnaps - smashed into fine crumbs
• 1 tablespoon sugar

Preparation:

1. Pat meat dry.
2. Place in a non-reactive bowl.
3. Add vinegar and then if necessary, add some water to completely cover roast.
4. Add bay leaves, peppercorns, cloves and parlsey.
5. Cover and put in fridge for 3-4 days turning the meat once each day.
6. Drain off liquid and reserve for sauce.
7. Rub meat all over with seasoned flour.
8. Brown it in butter.
9. Add onions, carrots and 2 cups of the spiced marinade.
10. Cover and gently simmer for 2 hours - until the meat is tender.
11. Remove meat to platter and cover to keep warm.
12. Make gravy in the same pot or pour into a saucepan.
13. Add gingersnap crumbs and sugar to the liquid.
14. Simmer for ten minutes. Taste and add salt and pepper if desired.
15. Pour sauce over meat and serve. Serve with potato dumplings and red cabbage.

That sauerbraten meal was a turning point in our family's life.
`In 2011, remember all the kindnesses.