Beef and Guinness Stew

For the past few weeks we have been listening, from morning till night, to Frank Sinatra's Jingle Bells and either Lena Horne's or Harry Connick Jr's version of Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer — over and over and over again. This is on account of the fact that Emilia has taken a fancy to these two songs, and says, time and time again, 'One more time, Jingle Bells! One more time, Reindeer!' In fact, one morning last week as I went to get her out of her bed, I could hear her jumping up and down in her crib, yelling, 'So excited! Rudolph Rednose Reindeer! So excited! Lights!' (The lights to which she referred are those on the tree...) And thus began our day.

I am so envious of Emilia's sheer joy in the morning, and wish so much that I, too, could capture it. It is a truly magical thing to witness. Her hair is a wild mess (if you ask her what her hair is doing, she will proudly make an explosion sound for you), and her little face is glowing. Whereas my typical morning is wild hair accompanied by a glower.

Anyway, the Christmas season is in full-swing at our house. We have: a very colorful and brightly lit tree; stockings hung by the fireplace; 24 hour Christmas music (I've been trying desperately to throw on Charlie Brown's Christmas or Bob Dylan's new Christmas album, whenever Emilia isn't looking); four nativities; and all the rest of the Christmas trappings imaginable — including a prominently displayed picture of Miss Milia screaming her head off on Santa's lap (goes nicely next to last year's screaming picture, if I do say so myself). The only thing we needed on Sunday evening in order to complete the scene was a hearty, stick-to-your-ribs, kind of dinner. And since I had been quite literally craving beef and Guinness stew for days on end (obsessing over it, really), that is what graced our table. It put a smile on all of our faces, gave a lovely feeling of contentment, and warmed us up head to toe (Governor included).

Typically when I make beef and Guinness stew Michael builds a fire in the fireplace (which he did on Sunday), puts some sort medieval music on the stereo (he's really taken a fancy to Medieval Hour on one of the local radio stations — but, alas, had to listen to Rudolph as he danced around the living room with his daughter), and threatens to start reading Sagas of the Icelanders while drinking a stout (or a scotch, he's not too picky when it comes down to it).

These days I serve this dish with an enormous scoop of mashed potatoes in the bowl. However, you could also turn it into a pot-pie, of sorts, by putting puff-pastry over the top. This is also divine, but not as substantial as mashed potatoes. Either way, I'm virtually certain that it will help you get through several more renditions of Rudolph — and not a moment too soon, either.

Good Old Steak and Guinness Pie
1½ lb stewing beef, diced
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 heaping tablespoons flour
olive oil
1 onion, peeled and roughly chopped
1 large carrot, peeled and roughly chopped (I sometimes add a little more)
4 sticks celery, washed and roughly chopped
2 parsnips, peeled and roughly chopped (I also add a bit more here)
1 handful fresh mixed herbs (rosemary, thyme, and bay)
2 ½ cups Guinness or other stout (I sometimes do 2 cups beer and ½ cup beef broth, to make it not quite so strong)
1 28oz can diced tomatoes
1 1lb 2oz package frozen puff pastry
1 egg, beaten

Season your beef generously with salt and pepper, then sprinkle with flour and toss to coat. Heat 2 or 3 glugs of olive oil in a large pot and fry the meat until golden brown. Do this in 2 batches, if necessary. Add the onion and cook for 1 minute, then add the carrot, celery, parsnips, and herbs. Cook 4 minutes and then add your beer. Add tomatoes, beef broth, if using, and bring to a boil. Stir and then simmer around 2 hours, until meat is really tender. Season well.

At this point you can serve it with mashed potatoes or turn it into lovely pies.

To make pies, preheat oven to 375°. Put a serving size of the stew into a bowl (or the whole lot into a baking dish), paying particular attention to the size of the dishes. Roll out your pastry to about a ¼" thick, dusting with flour as you go. Cut into 6 individual circles, allowing for an extra ½" bigger than the tops of your bowls. Brush the rims of the bowls with egg wash, and then put the pastry on the top, 'squashing the excess pastry down the outside of the bowls to secure.' Lightly score the tops and then brush again with egg wash. Bake in the middle of the oven for 45 minutes, until golden, delicious, and bubbling. (Recipe from: Happy Days with the Naked Chef, by Jamie Oliver. Hyperion, 2002.)