Occasionally we decided to dine in, I was making dinner and did the shopping, I mean, this was my vacation after all. I went to the butcher counter and picked something out. I thought it was beef ribs, like flanken or something. The usual butcher was not there but the not-as-friendly-as-most-Norwegians butcher said, “bibringe.” Which of course meant nothing to me and since I didn’t understand him and he could only repeat it, not knowing the word in English and I only know this word because that is what it said on the butcher paper when he handed it to me. It was definitely something that would require long low braise. I got a bunch onion and onion related vegetables and a couple of handfuls of the lovely orange chanterelle mushrooms we don’t get in the US. And braised the whole thing in butter and red wine.
Fried potatoes and grated fresh horseradish on it. It looked and smelled lovely but the meat left very much to be desired, it was all gristle, and fatty, nearly inedible meat. What little of it there was to eat was delicious. The next day I made soup out of the remains of the meal.
Bibringe soup. It was delicious.
