In his book Heat, Bill Buford writes eloquently of the formerly neglected beef short rib (the cut-off below the prime rib) that has taken its place in the pantheon of New York culinary masterpieces. There was something about his description of the simple preparation of this cheap meat– seared in hot oil, then covered in wine and broth and braised until the bones fall to the bottom of the pot– that stuck with me, and stayed with me until my next trip to the market where I spied the humble cut sitting at the end of the butcher’s case. So I tried it, guided by the recipe of a certain New York giant, and found it to be most satisfying.
One week later, I’m once again sitting in an apartment infused with the sublime scent of beef and wine, and waiting for the fats to solidify as they sit in the breeze on the back porch. I’ll be steaming and mashing some potatoes soon, maybe roasting some broccoli, and then dinner can’t come quick enough. And the leftovers are even better.