Authors: Michael Ruhlman
One of the advantages of the pan roast is that it gives you the opportunity to add flavor to what you’re cooking through basting. Here, after a whole pork tenderloin is seared on the stove top, garlic and fresh herbs are added to the pan along with a little butter, which picks up the flavor of the aromatics and delivers them to the pork as a baste. Basting also coats the surface with hot fat that helps cook the meat more quickly and evenly. Any of the roasted vegetables in this chapter makes an excellent accompaniment.
One 1¼-pound/570-gram pork tenderloin
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon coriander seeds, lightly toasted and crushed in a mortar with pestle or on a cutting board with a pan, or roughly chopped with a knife
1 teaspoon canola oil
4 tablespoons/55 grams butter
3 garlic cloves, partly smashed with the flat side of a knife to open them up but not flatten them
3 or 4 sprigs fresh thyme, plus ½ teaspoon picked thyme
Zest from 1 orange
About 1 hour before cooking the pork, remove it from the refrigerator and season it with salt and pepper and the coriander seeds. Pork tenderloins have one end that tapers. Consider folding the tapered end over onto the meat and tying it with butcher’s string so that the tenderloin has a uniform thickness. Alternatively, you can leave it as is (it will be medium-well done by the time the tenderloin is medium-rare), or you can cut off the end and save it for another use.
Preheat the oven to 350°F/180°C/gas 4.
Put an ovenproof sauté pan that’s large enough to contain the tenderloin over high heat. When the pan is hot, add the oil. When the oil is hot, lay the tenderloin top-side down in the pan. Let cook, without moving it, until it is nicely browned, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the butter, garlic, and thyme sprigs to the pan. Turn the tenderloin. When the butter has melted, spoon it all over the tenderloin and slide the pan into the oven. After several minutes, remove the pan and baste the tenderloin. Squeeze it. It should still be fairly squishy (rare). Return it to the oven for another few minutes. Baste again if you wish.
Remove the tenderloin from the oven. The total cooking time should be about 10 minutes. The tenderloin should still be somewhat pliable but beginning to show signs of firmness. If you must, check the internal temperature with an instant-read thermometer; it should be between 130° and 135°F/54° and 57°C. Baste the tenderloin again, add the thyme leaves to the butter in the pan, and set the pan aside for 10 minutes.
To serve, cut the tenderloin crosswise into slices about ½ inch/12 millimeters thick. Drizzle some of the herbed basting fat over the slices and sprinkle some orange zest over the top before serving.
BRAISE IS NOT ONLY ONE OF THE MOST
valuable techniques in the kitchen, it is a kind of emblem of the true cook. More than any other technique, it is what cooking is all about: transformation, turning raw, tough, inexpensive ingredients into hot, tender, delectable dishes. When we braise, we are realizing our abilities as cooks in ways that are richer, more fulfilling, and more illuminating than when we employ any other single technique.
Braise is also one of the most generous techniques: it fills the kitchen.
A decade ago, deep in a Cleveland, Ohio, winter, with nothing but blackness by 6 p.m., I was addressing bills I didn’t quite have the funds to pay, and I wondered why I wasn’t nearly as miserable as I ought to be. It was the short ribs braising in the oven, the kitchen windows steamed from the heat, my wife Donna reading the
New York Times
while the water for egg noodles came to a boil. Braised beef short ribs with buttered egg noodles. So simple. Braising sets the tone of warmth and satisfaction and fullness in your home, even when your bank account isn’t any of those things. But short ribs can help that situation, too, because their price is half that of tenderloin or strip steak. We braise the most inexpensive cuts, turning them into treasures.
Another reason braises are great is that they get better over time. You can make them one, two, or three days ahead, and the flavors only deepen.
These qualities—inexpensive dishes that are treasures and are best when made days in advance—also make braises the perfect entertaining food.
Even the way we describe the process is tantalizing: floured meat sizzling in hot fat, golden brown crust on those fatty short ribs, simmered gently in rich stock until meltingly tender.
Another great facet of braising is that it’s easy. Anyone can do it and do it well. It’s not like decorating a cake or boning a chicken in one piece. Everyone can get a pan hot, get a good sear on a piece of meat, add some liquid to the pan, slip it in the oven, and then find something else to do for hours.
Before I get into the specifics of the technique, what exactly does
braise
mean?
There is no definitive consensus among texts or chefs. The word originates from a French term for putting live or glowing coals under, around, and on top of a cooking vessel. Some believe it designates that the meat is only partially submerged; others say that doesn’t matter. Some say browning the meat first should be part of the definition. Others say a braise is anything cooked in liquid in the oven, meat or vegetable, until tender.
Braise is defined by several factors: what we braise is tough, usually a heavily worked muscle, which is why we need to braise it. The food is usually seared to add flavor to the finished dish and, important with meat, to set the exterior so that when you add the liquid, the meat doesn’t release a lot of blood, which would coagulate and rise to the surface. Liquid, usually stock, is added to the pot, along with any other ingredients, such as aromatic vegetables and seasonings, and the contents are brought to a simmer and then put in the oven, usually covered or partially covered.
Of course, there are infinite variations. Sometimes you don’t want to sear the food first. Sometimes you cover the pot, sometimes not. Sometimes the meat is submerged; other times it’s only partially covered. Braise usually indicates a single large item or several large items—a pot roast, lamb, veal shanks. Stew, a form of braise, is usually composed of an abundance of ingredients or ingredients that are cut
up into smaller pieces. The word braise has broadened to include cooking even tender ingredients, braised fish and braised vegetables. But the term always indicates that liquid is involved, and thus braise is considered moist heat cooking, as opposed to dry heat techniques such as roast and sauté.
One of the most important steps in braising is choosing the right vessel. You can braise in a shallow sauté pan (the
coq au vin
is an example of this) or in a deep pot, but the material should be heavy and a good heat conductor. Without question, my favorite type of vessel for braising is made of enameled cast iron. Such vessels are very heavy and can be used on the stove top and in the oven. The enamel is a low-stick surface that also gives you good browning, and the vessels are easy to clean. Of the various brands available, Le Creuset is the best known and is the industry standard. The cookware is expensive but worth the investment. It’s good to have a large pot and a smaller pot because the other important factor is size. A small item is difficult to braise in a large pot. That would require too much liquid. Choose a pot in which the ingredients fit snugly; this allows you the most efficient use of liquid and delivers to it the maximum amount of flavor.
How much liquid you put in the pot depends on what you’re after. If you want your meat cooked uniformly, you’ll need to submerge it. If you want to develop more flavor on the exterior, submerge it halfway so that the exposed part browns.
If you cover the pot, the liquid will boil. An uncovered pot, or one that’s only partially covered—by leaving the lid ajar or by cutting a parchment/baking paper lid—will cook the food more gently and reduce the cooking liquid, thus intensifying the flavor.
Moisture is the key. When you harness the power of moist heat to break down the tough foods, you can focus your energies on flavor. For instance, you don’t need to submerge something in liquid to make it tender. You can simply wrap it in aluminum foil with a couple tablespoons of water and get the same effect, without losing the flavor of the meat to the cooking liquid.
Generally speaking, the optimal braising temperature never goes above 300°F/150°C; again, it depends on what you’re cooking and how you’re cooking it. You can braise at 225° or 325°F/110° or 165°C, but in my experience, the more gently you cook the food, the better it tastes. If you’re covering the pot and the food is submerged, the temperature will be 212°F/ 100°C, regardless of the oven temperature. Just remember that the harder and more vigorously the liquid boils, the more fat will be emulsified into the liquid, and the more the vegetables will disintegrate.
But, nothing in cooking is absolute. A preparation popular in France calls for braising a leg of lamb at high roasting temperatures, 425° to 450°F/220° to 230°C for 6 or 7 hours.
When you pay attention to the two simple parts of the braise—tenderizing the meat and flavoring the dish—it’s difficult to go wrong.
Finessing the braise is part of the fun and distinguishes one braise from another. There are countless touches that can be applied or ignored. Braises can be simple one-pot meals, or you can take time to refine them and make them very clean and flavorful.
The liquid you choose can be homemade stock. Veal stock is the best stock for braising because it tends to take on the flavor of what you’re braising, and it’s rich in gelatin, which gives the sauce body. But stock is not imperative. Because you’re cooking the ingredients for a long time, you can make your stock at the same time as you’re braising. In these cases, water is fine. You can also
use other flavorful liquids. The
Braised Pork Belly with Caramel-Miso Glaze
is braised in freshly squeezed orange juice, the
Red Wine–Braised Short Ribs
in wine. You can braise in canned puréed or crushed tomatoes.
To cover or not to cover? Most braises should be covered. Uncovered pots will be much cooler than the covered pots due to the evaporation, which will also reduce the quantity of the sauce you end up with. If you want something to cook hard in a simmering liquid, something that needs a lot of tenderizing, then cover the pot. If you want some reduction, but not a lot, and gentle cooking, cover the pot with the lid ajar or make a parchment round and press this down on top of your braise.
Almost always you’ll want to remove the fat rendered into the sauce, which can make braises feel greasy. To do this, let the braise sit so that the fat rises to the top, then spoon it off. If you’re not serving the braise right away, chill it; the fat will harden and be easy to remove. When you do this, always let the meat chill in the liquid, or it can dry out and become stringy and flavorless. If you need to cool the meat outside the sauce, be sure to cover it with plastic wrap/cling film.
When a braise is done, the cooking liquid will have absorbed most of the flavors of the meat. The vegetables, however, will be overcooked. This is fine for a weekday stew, but if you want to raise the braise a level, strain the cooking liquid, add new vegetables, perhaps adjust the consistency with a roux or slurry, cook the vegetables just until done, and add the meat to heat through (see the short ribs for an example).
Fennel is an aromatic vegetable that works beautifully as a braise, becoming very flavorful and tender. I like to serve this with whole roasted or grilled/barbecued fish such as the
branzino
, using the fennel tops to stuff the fish cavities.
Plain/all-purpose flour
2 fennel bulbs, each quartered lengthwise
3 tablespoons canola oil
4 or 5 sprigs fresh thyme
2 tablespoons butter
Kosher salt
Preheat oven to 325°F/165°C/gas 3.
Put some flour on a plate. Dredge the cut sides of the fennel quarters in the flour. In an ovenproof pot just large enough to contain the fennel, heat the oil over medium-high to high heat. You want the oil to be hot, but you don’t want to burn the flour. Add the fennel and cook the floured sides until nicely browned. Add enough water to come ½ inch/12 millimeters up the sides of the fennel, then add the thyme, the butter, and a three-finger pinch of salt. Bring the water to a simmer.
Cover the pot and slide it into the oven. Cook until the fennel is tender (a knife inserted should meet no resistance), 20 to 30 minutes. Serve immediately.
Few other braised meats can achieve the richness and depth of braised lamb shanks. This recipe seasons the braising liquid with spices associated with Moroccan cooking. Try to find the
ras-el-hanout,
a North African spice blend that is like curry. It adds extra depth of flavor, but the recipe is delicious without it. If you can’t find it, it’s easy to make; there are a number of recipes online.