Italian Braised Beef with Root Vegetables

My mom, Angel, has always been the best cook in the neighborhood and everybody knew it. In the 1970s and 80s, when most of my friends were eating fast food and processed junk, all the kids wanted to come to my house for dinner. We werent going to go to the neighbors houses to eat TV dinners. This is one of the meals Mom would fix when I was growing up because it was easy, delicious and inexpensive, and it fed a crowd. This was my introduction to braising, the first braised dish I ever made-and I didnt even know we were braising. Mom called it pot roast and we had it weekly. And in true Italian pot roast fashion, we'd eat it over rigatoni. I now sometimes serve it over soft polenta with mascarpone, another excellent option. It showed me how much I loved the deep complex flavors of braises generally, which I prefer to eat over just about any other kind of dish. One of the pleasures of this meal is the big chunks of carrots and celery root that cook in that delicious liquid for four hours; they take on all the flavors of the braising liquid. They dont taste like carrots and celery root anymore; they taste like a steak, and thats why theyre so good. A couple of critical steps in this recipe are getting a good sear on the meat and caramelizing the vegetables in the pot before deglazing. Beyond that, the red sauce is critical. And I also think its important that a third of the meat be above the liquid-one of the factors that for me defines braising-so pot size is important; it shouldnt be so small that the meat is submerged or so big that the meat is sitting in just an inch of liquid.

Italian Braised Beef with Root Vegetables
Italian Braised Beef with Root Vegetables
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My mom, Angel, has always been the best cook in the neighborhood and everybody knew it. In the 1970s and 80s, when most of my friends were eating fast food and processed junk, all the kids wanted to come to my house for dinner. We werent going to go to the neighbors houses to eat TV dinners. This is one of the meals Mom would fix when I was growing up because it was easy, delicious and inexpensive, and it fed a crowd. This was my introduction to braising, the first braised dish I ever made-and I didnt even know we were braising. Mom called it pot roast and we had it weekly. And in true Italian pot roast fashion, we'd eat it over rigatoni. I now sometimes serve it over soft polenta with mascarpone, another excellent option. It showed me how much I loved the deep complex flavors of braises generally, which I prefer to eat over just about any other kind of dish. One of the pleasures of this meal is the big chunks of carrots and celery root that cook in that delicious liquid for four hours; they take on all the flavors of the braising liquid. They dont taste like carrots and celery root anymore; they taste like a steak, and thats why theyre so good. A couple of critical steps in this recipe are getting a good sear on the meat and caramelizing the vegetables in the pot before deglazing. Beyond that, the red sauce is critical. And I also think its important that a third of the meat be above the liquid-one of the factors that for me defines braising-so pot size is important; it shouldnt be so small that the meat is submerged or so big that the meat is sitting in just an inch of liquid.

  • Preparing Time: 30 minutes
  • Total Time: 30 minutes
  • Served Person: 8
main dish

Step-by-step

  • For Yia Yia's Sunday sauce: Heat the oil in a 4-quart saucepan or large Dutch oven over medium heat. Brown the beef bones. Add the onions and cook until translucent, 2 minutes. Add the salt and garlic and cook until everything is soft but not browned, about 3 minutes. Squeeze the tomatoes one by one into the pan, pulverizing them by hand, and pour in their juice, too. Add the wine, oregano, red pepper flakes, if using, black pepper and bay leaf. Bring the sauce to a simmer, and then reduce the heat to its lowest possible setting, and continue to cook for 8 hours. The sauce should reduce by about one-third. Taste for seasoning and add more salt if necessary. Remove the bones and bay leaf. Set aside 2 cups. If not using the remaining sauce right away, let it cool, then cover and refrigerate for up to 1 week or freeze for up to 2 months. Yield: 8 cups.
  • For the braised beef with root vegetables: Preheat the oven to 300 degrees F. Sprinkle the meat liberally with salt and pepper as much as 1 day in advance. (Cover and refrigerate it if doing so and take the meat out of the fridge 30 minutes before cooking.) Heat the oil in a large Dutch oven over high heat. When the oil is on the verge of smoking, sear the meat for about 2 minutes per side. Move the meat to the side (or remove it from the pot altogether if necessary), and add the carrots, celery root and onions. Brown the vegetables for about 3 minutes, and then add the garlic and cook for 1 to 2 minutes longer. Pour in the wine and deglaze the pot, scraping up the browned bits on the bottom. Add Yia Yia's Sunday Sauce, 1 cup water and the bay leaves (and the pot roast if you removed it). Bring the liquid to a simmer and taste for seasoning. Add more salt if necessary. Cover the pot and place it in the oven for 3 hours, basting the meat occasionally during cooking time. When almost ready to serve, make the rigatoni, if using. Boil in salted water according to package directions until al dente. Discard the bay leaves before serving. Transfer the meat to a cutting board and slice into bite-size pieces, or shred with 2 forks. Return the meat to the pot of sauce along with the drained rigatoni. Toss to coat, and serve.

A Culinary Journey Through Time: My Mother's Italian Braised Beef

The aroma of simmering beef, rich with the earthy sweetness of root vegetables and the tangy depth of a slow-cooked red sauce – this is the scent of home, of family, of Sunday dinners past. This recipe isn't just a dish; it’s a portal to cherished memories, a legacy passed down through generations, a testament to the simple yet profound power of food to connect us to our heritage and to each other.

My mother, Angel, was a culinary magician. In a time dominated by fast food and processed meals, her kitchen was an oasis of wholesome goodness. Every child in the neighborhood knew that dinner at our house meant a feast, a genuine, home-cooked meal far superior to anything served up at their own tables. This braised beef, a hearty and comforting classic, was a weekly staple, a meal that effortlessly fed a crowd. She called it pot roast, a humble name for a dish that was anything but.

My earliest memories of this dish are intertwined with the simple joy of family meals around the dinner table, the warmth of our kitchen radiating outwards on chilly Sunday afternoons. The tender beef, falling apart at the touch, was always a highlight; but, it was the vibrant root vegetables – the carrots and celery root, transformed into succulent gems, deeply infused with the braising liquid – that truly stole the show. They weren't simply carrots and celery root anymore; they'd been imbued with the essence of the beef, taking on a rich, almost steak-like depth of flavor. This was my introduction to the magic of braising, a technique I've come to cherish and refine over the years.

The key to this recipe, as my mother always emphasized, lies in the details. The initial sear of the beef, ensuring a beautiful crust that locks in those delicious juices, is paramount. The careful caramelization of the vegetables before deglazing, the slow, patient simmering of the sauce – these are the elements that elevate this dish from ordinary to extraordinary. It's not just about the ingredients; it's about the method, the careful attention to each step, the love infused into every stage of the process. The pot itself plays a critical role; it needs to be large enough to allow the meat to partially sit above the braising liquid, ensuring a perfect balance of moisture and tenderness. The size of the pot is just as important as all the other aspects.

The accompanying sauce is another essential element – a rich, complex red sauce that is as much a part of the experience as the beef itself. It’s the perfect accompaniment to the succulent meat and tender vegetables. It is a symphony of flavors, a testament to the simplicity and elegance of Italian cuisine, a vibrant testament to the traditions of my heritage. This is not just a pot roast; this is a tradition carried forward by love.

Over the years, I've experimented with different ways to serve this braised beef, from the traditional rigatoni to a creamy polenta topped with mascarpone cheese. Each variation offers a unique twist, yet the heart of the dish – the rich, tender beef and the intensely flavorful vegetables – remains the same. It's a recipe that invites adaptation, a blank canvas for culinary creativity, and yet it always returns you back to your roots, back to those cherished memories of Sunday dinners, family, and togetherness. It's a comfort food for the soul.

This recipe is more than just a dish; it's a story. It’s a story of family traditions, of culinary heritage, of love passed down through generations. It’s a story that continues to unfold each time I prepare it, each time I share it with loved ones, reminding us all of the simple, profound power of food to bring people together. It's an experience that I want to preserve for my family, for my children, and for generations to come.

So gather your ingredients, clear your schedule, and prepare to embark on a culinary journey that will transport you to the heart of an Italian kitchen, where love, tradition, and the sheer delight of a perfectly braised beef converge to create a meal that will be cherished for years to come. And remember, the most important ingredient is always love, a dash of patience, and a generous helping of family memories.

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