In praise of slow food

and a recipe for classic coq au vin

I’ve reached my reel limit for the day.

I can’t watch another elaborate cake being decorated, a charcuterie board being artfully styled, a short cut recipe for mini tacos, ideas for salad jar meal prep, unnecessary preparations like smashed baby carrots, crispy potato bites, breakfast bake.

My goldfish attention span is already numbed by too much social everything and even my insatiable curiosity about all things cooking has its limits. When Sunday rolls around, it’s time to get out the Le Creuset Dutch oven, choose a cookbook from amongst my ever growing collection (more than 500 and counting!), and slow things down.

The beauty of the braise

“Not all dishes are made for the glare of the camera, and nor should they be. Dishes whose very presence derides an emphasis on aesthetic over appetite, dishes which resist ‘curation’, dishes which scorn ‘styling’.

I first read this on an Instagram post describing a dish of devilled kidneys, “defiant in their glossy brownness, exultant in their deliciousness” from St. John Restaurant in London.

The sentiment stayed with me. Brown food, perhaps the most delicious of all, is indeed defiant in its lack of sex appeal. To photograph a hearty turkey chili, an unctuous osso buco or slow cooked lamb shanks, is to have a skill that goes beyond my passable iPhone.

All that beautiful taste and layering of flavour— only achieved with a lazy slow and careful cooking of a parade of ingredients, lovingly prepped and added to the melange, each cooked in their very specific order and way—are more resistant to the spotlight than their showier table companions. But they are far more rewarding and generous in what they teach us about deep breaths, slowing down and savouring every bite.

Better together

In every marriage, there is an unacknowledged lead: the one who stacks the dishwasher, does the laundry, cleans out the litter box, makes the first pot of coffee or the bed.

Of course these things aren’t immutable. Time and circumstance dictate our contributions and the very best of partnerships don’t keep a scorecard on the tally. Still, we have our preferences and strengths, and sometimes giving way on those can be, well, a bit of challenge.

My sweet spot is the kitchen, but it’s not because I’m the best cook in the family. Richard can more than hold his own, and has become the primary cook, as our work lives shifted over time. Come the weekend, and a long Sunday afternoon, and we find ourselves cooking together in the kitchen, still getting used to the rhythm of a new home. And me still getting rid of my top toque mentality.

It’s the perfect time to go slowly, to pick the multi-step recipe, or plan a four course meal. Elbows might bump, and I’m likely to, ahem, look over someone’s shoulder and make unsolicited editorial comments about a dicing technique, but in the end a beautiful meal is on the table.

Given the freedom of time, it’s just as likely to be a deep brown dish of deliciousness, impossible to photograph, impossible not to love. The reels are forgotten, the pace slows to a Norah Jones beat, and all’s well with the world.

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Coq au vin

The French Chef Cookbook, Julia Child

serves four

Coq au vin is the ultimate classic French dish, with chicken braised in red wine, bacon, onions, and mushrooms. Although both the ingredient list and the many steps may seem onerous, nothing is complicated and can be taken with slow and easy pace while you both sip a glass of Burgundy and dream of Paris.

Ingredients

3-4 ounce chunk of lean bacon, cut into 1” long and ¼“ wide strips

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

2½–3 lbs. chicken pieces (legs, thighs, or drumsticks), dried throughly with a tea towel

1 teaspoon salt

Two or three fresh grinding of black pepper

¼ cup cognac

3 cups dry red wine: a Burgundy or Côtes du Rhône that you’ll also want to serve with the meal

1–2 cups beef stock or broth (enough to cover the chicken)

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1 garlic clove, smashed and peeled

¼ teaspoon dried thyme

1 bay leaf

12–24 small white (pearl) onions

1–2 tablespoons vegetable oil

Salt to taste

½ lb. fresh mushrooms, stems trimmed and removed and reserved

1 tablespoon butter

½ tablespoon vegetable oil

To thicken the sauce:

2 tablespoons softened butter

3 tablespoons flour

Brown and cook the chicken

1. Boil the bacon strips in 2 quarts of water for 10 minutes to reduce saltiness. Drain, rinse in cold water, and pat dry.

2. Heat 2 tablespoons of vegetable oil in a large Dutch oven and sauté the bacon over medium heat until lightly browned. Remove and set aside, leaving the fat in the pan.

3. In the same Dutch oven, brown the chicken pieces on all sides over medium-high heat. Once browned, season the chicken with salt and pepper. Return the bacon to the pan, cover and cook slowly for 10 minutes, turning chicken once.

4. Take the cover off, pour the cognac over the chicken and carefully ignite it with a match. Shake the pan gently until the flames subside. This step adds depth to the flavour but is optional if you're not comfortable flambéing.

5. Add the red wine, beef stock (enough to cover the chicken), tomato paste, garlic, thyme, and bay leaf to the pan. Bring to a simmer, then cover and cook on low heat for about 30 minutes, or until the chicken is tender when pierced with a fork.

Cook the onions and mushrooms

1. While the chicken cooks, blanch the onions by dropping them into boiling water for 1 minute. Drain and peel carefully. Cut a small cross into the root end of each onion (this keeps them whole during cooking).

2. Heat 1–2 tablespoons of vegetable oil in a pan, add the onions, and sauté until lightly browned.

3. Add enough water to the pan to reach halfway up the onions, season with salt, cover, and simmer for 25–30 minutes, or until tender.

4. Wash the trimmed mushroom stems and caps quickly in cold water, and pat dry. Quarter the caps.

5. Heat 1 tablespoon of butter and ½ tablespoon of vegetable oil in a pan over high heat. Add the mushrooms and sauté for 4–5 minutes, or until lightly browned.

Assemble the dish

1. Once the chicken is cooked, remove it from the pan and strain the cooking liquid into a saucepan. Skim off excess fat and boil down if needed to concentrate the flavour (you should have about 2¼ cups of liquid).

2. Blend the softened butter and flour into a paste, then whisk it into the cooking liquid. Simmer for 1–2 minutes until the sauce thickens.

3. Add the onions and mushrooms to the sauce and stir gently to combine.

4. Return the chicken to the sauce and reheat gently over low heat for 4–5 minutes. Do not overcook. Serve directly from the pan or arrange the chicken on a serving platter, topped with the sauce.