Hello, wonderful readers!
I’ve missed you. I am so sorry it’s been a month since Makans of a Chef has landed in your inbox—the longest break I’ve taken since launching this newsletter in 2021. I wish I could say I was off on some adventure or taking some R&R, but I’ve been overwhelmed by a demanding job that has left me no time for myself or the process of creating Makans of a Chef.
Anyone who works or has worked in the service industry knows how rough it can be. I’m not here to complain or pretend I didn’t know what I was getting into when I left my career as a local news producer; I did. The service industry is like TV news regarding inequality, burnout, and low wages. I’ve had to learn over the years how to manage less-than-ideal situations to pay the bills and reach my goals. I know so many of you have been there, too.
I’ll have more to say in the future about the wild experience of trying to land a decent job as a line cook when you’re a woman with mostly TV stations on her resumé. (Hint: it involves several instances of men tap-dancing around the phrase “You’re too pretty to work back of house!”)
For now, I want you to know Makans of a Chef isn’t going anywhere. I may be publishing every other week instead of weekly while I sort out some other pieces of my career puzzle, but creating this newsletter brings me a lot of joy, and I have no plans to stop.
As always, thank you for being here. If you enjoy this newsletter, it would mean the world to me if you shared it with a friend and encouraged them to subscribe.
Also, if you’ve made it this far, I have some musings and a recipe you’ll love below.
Love,
Jenny
You probably heard it first as a child.
Maybe your mom or grandma had a signature dish they brought to parties and church potlucks.
You ate it off a flimsy paper plate in a basement, around a crowded kitchen table, or outside in the grass, where the ants tried to get to it first.
That dish was always gone in 20 minutes. Then came the compliments and inquiries.
“I was so excited when I saw you brought the potatoes; they’re always so good!”
“It never tastes like that when I try to make it at home.”
“What’s your secret?”
A shrug. A slow grin that can’t help but burst into a full smile.
“Oh, you know. Just a little love.”
Sometimes, “the secret ingredient is love” is a way to avoid sharing an actual secret ingredient. More often, it’s an expression of a universal, not-so-secret truth: you cook best when you’re happy. When you feel loved.
Chef Ana Roš—whom I hugely admire—said the not-so-secret ingredient is the key to her success.
Roš was featured in an episode of Netflix’s Chef’s Table in 2015. In the voiceover at the beginning, she says:
“Love is crucial. If we don’t have love, it is difficult to work well.
And in the kitchen, that is extremely important.
When one is loved, she can create better.”
With a loving support system behind her, Roš taught herself how to cook world-class food that put Slovenian cuisine on the map and earned her two Michelin stars. Her restaurant, Hiša Franko (which she co-owns with her husband), is on the World’s 50 Best Restaurants List. She was named the world’s Best Female Chef in 2017. Her work helped save a local fish species in the Soča Valley and elevate the region’s cheesemaking traditions. Roš also gave her entire staff two months of paid leave before reopening Hiša Franko for the season this week. I just…. I stan.
But you don’t need to have elite techniques to cook with the not-so-secret ingredient. It’s something you can summon whenever you need it. For me, it’s much easier to call in when I’m cooking for people I care about— which happened recently when I made one of the most delicious things I’ve ever cooked.
A new friend found out how much I love making fresh pasta and said the words “short rib ravioli”—and I didn’t stop thinking about it for weeks. When a free Sunday came up, we gathered the tools and ingredients and got to work.
The crust of a perfectly seared short rib.
Countertops covered in flour and eggs.
Laughter from friends gathered around the kitchen table, playing board games.
The satisfaction of running fresh pasta dough through the machine.
Several pairs of hands shredding beef off the bone.
The sound of a wine cork freeing itself from the bottle.
With all the joy in the room, it would have been impossible for the food to taste bad.
Saving some of the braising liquid to reduce into a thick sauce also probably helped.
Anyways.
This was one of those meals that make you melt into your chair after one bite. When everyone at the table looks at each other and goes, “Yup. That’s it. That’s the stuff.”
It’s because of the not-so-secret ingredient sprinkled throughout the process. The joy that comes from cooking with friends or family and sharing the results of your work can’t be matched.
I actually have very few photos of this dish because I was so present that day. But I’m excited to walk you through how I made those delicious ribs and give some serving suggestions.
How to Make Red Wine-Braised Short Ribs
This is one of those “recipes” that doesn’t have exact measurements. Don’t fret if you only have one good celery stalk or you have shallots instead of yellow onions. This is definitely not an easy weeknight dinner. You want these ribs to braise low and slow until they fall apart and you almost pass out from the delicious smell. The general amounts I’m using here will feed a crowd, so invite some friends over.
Ingredients:
3 lbs. beef short ribs
2 carrots
2 celery stalks
1 yellow onion
28oz. can crushed tomatoes
3 TB tomato paste
Garlic cloves (as many as your heart desires; I used at least 5)
Fresh rosemary
Fresh thyme
Beef stock
1 bottle medium to full-bodied red wine
I used a cabernet sauvignon. Don’t you dare use something high-quality. Buy the cheapest bottle you can find.
Butter
Olive oil
Coarse sea salt or kosher salt
The most important thing about a dish like this is to treat your meat right. Take it out of the fridge at least 30 minutes before you want to start cooking. Sprinkle all sides with coarse salt—table salt will not treat your meat right—and let the ribs come up to room temperature. They will cook better when the flesh is relaxed and the coarse salt crystals will bring out so much flavor.
Chop the carrot, celery, and onion. No need to be exact or make it pretty (unless you want to turn it into a ragù). Hack everything into big pieces. Keep the garlic cloves whole.
Heat a large skillet or dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add some butter and olive oil. Sear all sides of the short ribs, a couple of minutes on each side. You want the butter and oil to help form a gorgeous crust and seal in flavor. When you’re finished searing, set the ribs aside.
Deglaze the pan with a little bit of red wine. If you’re braising the ribs in the same pot you seared them in, add the carrot, celery, onion, garlic, fresh rosemary and thyme, tomato paste, and crushed tomatoes. Give it all a good stir to combine. Place the ribs back in. Add in beef stock and red wine until the ribs are mostly covered. They can be peeking out a bit, but you want most of them submerged in the liquid.
If you are braising the ribs in a different pan than the one you seared them in, deglaze the searing pan and scrape all those delicious beef bits off the bottom and into your braising pan. Add the carrot, celery, onion, garlic, fresh rosemary and thyme, tomato paste, and crushed tomatoes. Then the ribs. Pour in wine and beef stock until the ribs are mostly submerged.
Cover the pan and pop into a 275-degree oven. It should take 2-3 hours to braise, depending on your oven and the size of the short ribs. You’ll know they’re done when the meat falls off the bone. If the heat is too high, the meat will be tougher. After about an hour, I usually check on the ribs to make sure they’re cooking properly.
Serving Suggestions
You can serve these short ribs in so many ways. Leave them as they are and serve over a bed of mashed potatoes or risotto with a splash of the braising liquid for flavor and keep the ribs from drying out.
Again, I shredded the ribs and used them as ravioli filling. I strained the herbs and produce from the braising liquid and reduced it on the stove until it thickened, with a splash of heavy cream.
I also used the leftover shredded meat for a delicious short rib sandwich the next day. I made a quick red wine vinaigrette, threw a little mayo and whatever greens I had lying around on some crusty bread, topped it with meat, and drizzled the vinaigrette over it (don’t use too much or your sandwich will be soggy).
If you want to make this into a ragù, dice the carrot, celery, and onion instead of roughly chopping. When the ribs are done braising, take out the rosemary and thyme sprigs. Shred the ribs and add them back into the juices. Serve over pappardelle or another pasta shape that can stand up to a thick, meaty sauce. Top with Parmigiano and fresh parsley.
Please let me know how this goes for you and how you eat red wine braised short ribs!
The Secret Ingredient is No Secret
This is making me hungry!!!!
That Sandwich!!!! It's on my list...