new year’s eve dinner: beef short ribs [stock, wine, aromatics], gremolata [parsley, garlic, lemon zest] (inspired by alice, potato made by c).
- Season six or so pounds of square-cut shortribs heavily with salt and pepper and refridgerate overnight.
- Roast short ribs bone side down in a super hot oven for about twenty minutes, until they are nicely browned.
- Saute a lot of roughly chopped onion until it starts to brown, then add some roughly chopped carrot and leek and cook a little more. (Don’t worry about showing off your knife skills here; we’ll be straining later.) Add some smashed garlic cloves, whatever herbs you have arround (I used thyme and parsley), and a few bay leaves. Cook a little more. Resist the urge to season as the ribs are already well seasoned and we’ll be reducing later.
- Slide the vegetable goodness into your largest dutch oven (at least six quarts), and arrange the ribs bone side up on top of them. (This is a bit of a bother as short ribs hate being bone side up, but it’s necessary to keep the ribs in some semblace of order while cooking.) Add a third of a bottle or so of red wine, and then pour in enough hot beef stock to just submerge the ribs.
- Bring this pot of all that is true and good to a simmer over high heat on the stove, and then put the lid on, slightly ajar, and place the pot in a 350˚F oven. Cook for about two hours, or until the meat is knee-weakeningly tender, and the connective tissue is a gelatinous gift from the gods.
- After their tiring excursion, retire the ribs to a roasting pan, bone side down. Strain the braising juices, pressing the liquid out of the vegetables and then discarding them. Spoon a few tablespoons of the strained juices over the ribs and pop them into a super hot oven for about ten minutes or until glazed.
- Meanwhile, reduce the juices until they are in danger of becoming too salty. (If, unlike me, you heed the warning not to season anything but the ribs, you should have a nicely textured sauce by the end.)
- Mix together a handful of parsley with a garlic clove and a lemon’s worth of zest, all finely copped. Plate up with your favorite starch, drizzling some sauce over the meat before scattering the gremolata.

