Where Credit is Due

Beef Stroganoff
ny discussion about my love of good food and cooking must begin with my parents. And since this project, in large part, is about my love of good food and cooking, I must pay Mom and Dad tribute at the infancy of this endeavor.

Phoenix, Arizona; summer of 1969. I was an eight-year-old skinny, gangly-legged girl with a shock of blonde pixie-cut hair and bruised and band-aided knees. I was a tree-climbing, book-reading, fort-building girl. My Dad had given me a microscope the Christmas before, and that summer an inordinate amount of time was spent looking at dog hairs, moth wings, gutter water amoeba, and even my little brother's tooth scrapings on its slides.

Even children come indoors to escape the afternoon summer heat in Phoenix. That summer Arizona Public Service, the utility company, sponsored an afternoon television cooking show for kids. We sent our self-address stamped envelope away and received the show’s companion recipe booklet in order to follow along with the demonstrations on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. When all the other neighborhood kids went inside to watch "Dark Shadows", I was learning to cook.
My mother, bless her soul, cheerfully allowed me complete and free access to her kitchen, and provided me with whatever ingredients necessary to try out the simple recipes such as Sunburst Salad. That, as I recall, involved setting a canned peach half on a canned pineapple ring, making a smiley face on it with raisins and setting around it radiant spokes of celery stalk. I stood for hours at the sink filled with cool water and all my Mom's measuring cups and spoons, verifying that there were exactly three teaspoons in a tablespoon, eight ounces in a cup, two cups in a pint and two pints in a quart. The only thing Mom asked was that I clean up my own messes and to try hard not to do anything too dangerous. (Thank God flambé wasn’t suggested in the APS show, or I am sure there would have been an insurance adjuster involved in this story.) Mom conveyed that she trusted me with her tools, her stove, and her knives, something I didn't fully appreciate until I became a mother myself. Her confidence in me became my own.

That summer I prepared my very first meal for our family. Iceburg lettuce wedges with Thousand Island dressing, canned green beans, and ooh la la, the piece de resistance; Pickle-in-a-Poke Steak. That elegant focal point involved hammering out a cube steak, wrapping it around a sweet gherkin, frying it up in a skillet and dousing it with bottled barbeque sauce. Yum, right??

Well, apparently, yes, yum. Here’s where my Dad comes in. Because my Dad, God bless his soul, lapped up that monstrosity like it was something straight out of the Cordon Blue School of Cooking, saying things like, “Pammy, this is delicious; really, really good!” Those magic words were all the support I needed to move on to bigger, better, fancier dishes, like Pigs in a Blanket and Surprise! Burgers. This was no small thing on my Dad’s part, because this man knows good food. His parents were exceptional cooks, and he had grown up appreciating a fine meal. And, as evidence suggests, also appreciating the intense efforts of sincere little girls.

What a little encouragement will do for a kid. Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad.

This stroganoff recipe was a specialty of my Grandpa Stevens’, my Dad’s dad. It is as classically delicious today as it was all those Sunday suppers so many years ago, and is an infinitely better way to serve beef than Pickle-in-a-Poke Steak. It is incredibly delicious with the right Pinot Noir, and the one I recommend for this dish is a Palotai Vineyard and Winery Pinot Noir 2006. This Umpqua Valley vineyard and winery has a history of Hungarian-style winemaking, and is currently run by John Olson and his family. Their oaky, husky Pinot with deep cherry fruit pairs wonderfully with this Eastern European dish. Their motto is, "Do right, and fear no man, " which enamors me all the more, as I can hear my Dad give me similar advise.
Grandpa's Beef Stroganoff

1 1/2 pounds beef sirloin, well trimmed, cut into 2" x 1/2" x 1/2" strips*
6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) butter, divided
1 small shallot, thinly sliced
1/2 yellow onion, halved lengthwise, sliced into thin half-moons
1 pound crimini mushrooms, thickly sliced

salt and white pepper to taste1/3 cup dry Sherry
1 1/2 cups (12 oz.) sour cream or crème fraîche

Heat 3 tablespoons butter in large skillet over medium-high heat. Working in batches, add meat in single layer and cook just until brown on outside, about 1 minute per side. Transfer to meat to bowl, leaving juices behind in pan, and keep gently warm. Bring meat juices to a boil briefly to reduced a bit.

Melt remaining 3 tablespoons butter in same skillet over medium-high heat. Add sliced shallots and onions to butter and reduced meat juices. Sauté until tender, scraping up browned bits, about 4 minutes or so. Add sliced mushrooms, sautéing until liquid evaporates, another 10-12 minutes. Season to taste with salt and white pepper. Splash in the Sherry, scraping up the browned bits to deglaze the pan. Add meat and any accumulated juices from bowl. Stir in sour cream or crème fraîche. Simmer over medium-low heat until meat is heated through but still medium-rare and evenly coated with the sauce, about 2 minutes.

*It is much easier to slice the meat perfectly if it is ever so slightly frozen.