Winter, cold weather, Christmas upon us—gets me all nostalgic-like (we put up the tree) and I decided to make my mother’s stew. I could say I’ve been making this stew for decades but really I think I have never ever made it exactly like my mother made it. I can’t control myself with a recipe. I have a compulsion to not follow them, recipes, I mean. Red wine? Yes! Ketchup? Yes! Celery? Why not? I have plenty! Leeks? Of course! Marshmallows? Sounds good!
This time, exercising a kind of restraint to which I am unaccustomed I made MY MOTHER’S STEW. I followed the recipe exactly. It was sublime. And really, the smell was soooo evocative. I would be so happy when I was a kid and came home from school to the smell of stew. The added plus of stew being gravy bread. It was perfect for a warm beginnings to holidays.
My mother’s recipe is called “Delightfully Different Stew.” I am not sure what makes it all that different, maybe it’s the Worcestershire sauce or maybe the lack of all the extra crap I’d usually put in it.