March 14, 2005

Carbonades Flamandes

[Flemish Carbonades]

My father's side of the family is originally from the North of France. Most of us live in other parts of the country now, and I had never set foot there until last summer, when a client project sent me to Lille for a few days. I was very happy for the occasion to spend a little time in the land of my fathers, and felt oddly at home throughout my stay. What struck me the most was how generous and welcoming people were, as if they had had to compensate for the roughness of their landscape and weather with human warmth and a high predisposition to party.

I had done a little research beforehand to know which local dishes I shouldn't miss -- most are also Belgian specialties, both areas being so close. Among them were Flemish Carbonades, (Stoofvlees in Flemish), a dish of beef stewed in beer, flavored with onions, cassonade (brown sugar) and pain d'épice (honey spice cake). I tried it one night, loved it, and made a note to myself to try and reproduce that rich, sweet and sour goodness.

Carbonades Flamandes could be considered as "le boeuf bourguignon venu du nord" (Boeuf Bourguignon from the North) -- although some say it is actually the reverse, claiming that the Dukes of Burgundy stole the recipe during their occupation of Flanders in the 15th century. See, they didn't have the Internet at the time so it was more difficult to get good recipes. And from what I have found, the name comes from the Italian carbonata, a beef and wine stew for which the meat was originally grilled on charcoal.

And Carbonades Flamandes is what I decided to make on Saturday, as our dear friends Ludo, Marie-Laure, Stéphan and Patricia were coming over for dinner. I used the recipe from a great book that I received as a birthday gift called Aimer la cuisine à la bière (by Pierrot de Lille and Patrick Villechaize, Editions Ouest-France), which includes over 120 beer-based dishes and desserts, each recipe recommending exactly which beer will work best. Fascinating. I made a few small changes to the original recipe, scaling it up to serve six, using butter in place of the more traditional saindoux (pork fat) and drastically lowering the amount it called for. I just can't seem to find it in me to melt 150 grams of butter in a pan and throw beef in -- very un-Julia Child of me, I know.

The book suggests using Jenlain ambrée, a bière de garde made by a brewery named Duyck, and this is a beer I was able to find easily at the grocery store: it is normally available in a tall brown glass bottle with a cork, but here I could only find half-liter cans (which I find very un-elegant, probably because that's the format loiterers and bad boys seem to favor). Of course, feel free to substitute another amber and malty beer.

The dish involves slices of pain d'épice, crumbled and added to the sauce as a bursting-with-flavor thickener. If you are able to find it you won't be sorry (it keeps for weeks when correctly wrapped, so it can be easily shipped or brought back from a trip) but if not, some carbonades recipes suggest using slices of country bread spread with mustard, so you could try that too. (I may also experiment with baking my own pain d'épice one of these days, in which case I will of course share the recipe with you.)

It was a complete, utter and absolute hit. I have little experience with stews so I was rather unsure of how it would turn out, but the smell as it simmered was fabulous (a good thing, since I have an open kitchen and this needs to cook for three hours), and when it was ready, when the velvety sauce had thickened and the beef had turned so tender that a knife was really superfluous, this intensely flavorful and unusual stew was thoroughly enjoyed by all.

I hope some of my ancestors were looking.

Carbonades Flamandes

- 1.6 kg beef for stew, cut in chunks (my butcher suggested I use "jumeau", a lean cut of meat from the animal's calf -- get the best quality meat you can reasonably afford)
- 1 Tbsp (20 g) butter
- 5 Tbsp flour
- 4 Tbsp red wine vinegar
- 1.5 L amber beer (I used Jenlain)
- 0.75 L boiling water
- 4 Tbsp cassonade (substitute brown sugar)
- 6 slices (130 g) pain d'épice (substitute moist gingerbread, or country bread spread with mustard)
- 400 g onions (5 small ones), minced
- a few leaves of laurel and a few sprigs of thyme
- 3 cloves
- salt

(Serves 6.)

Melt butter in large cooking pan. Brown meat on all sides for 8 minutes over medium heat. Sprinkle with a little salt, add in the flour and onions, stir, and cook for 5 minutes. Pour in vinegar and scrape at the bottom of the pan to detach any bit that may have stuck. Pour in the beer and water, stir again.

At the first simmer add in the sugar, pain d'épice torn in small pieces, thyme, laurel and cloves. Lower the heat and simmer, uncovered, for 2 and a half to 3 hours.

Serve directly from pan. Although the classic accompaniment for carbonades seems to be fries and a salad, I served mine with steamed Roseval potatoes, those subtly sweet, subtly pink, thin-skinned potatoes.