Steak, Rattle & Roll

I remember the way my parents' house used to smell when steak rolls were for dinner. It was a distinct mix of beef, bacon and onions—an aroma I haven't experienced for quite some time.

Recently, a friend mentioned that he made braciole. My mind immediately went to the steak rolls, and I couldn't get them out of my head. I craved the smell—and of course the taste. It was time to leaf through my trusty recipe box and find an old favorite.

I give my Grandma Perron steak roll credit; I think she would be proud of my end result. Thanks to her, my mom learned the recipe. Aside from a couple changes—mostly due to what I had in my apartment—I stayed very true to the original recipe.

Grandma Perron's Steak Rolls

1 1/4 pound thinly sliced top round (or sirloin tip) steak, pounded to 1/4-inch thickness

1 medium red onion, thinly sliced and divided

4 slices peppered bacon

Salt and pepper

AP flour, for dredging

1 tablespoon butter

1 tablespoon olive oil

2 cups beef broth

1/2 cup dry red wine

4 ounces mushrooms, sliced

2 thyme sprigs

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2. Cut pounded steak into equal-size portions (I cut four pieces into thirds for 12 portions). Slice each piece of bacon into thirds.

3. On each piece of steak, place a strip of bacon and a few red onions. Roll and secure with a toothpick; in some cases, more than one toothpick might be necessary. Season the rolls with salt and pepper, then dredge in flour.

4. Heat a saute pan on medium-high; add butter and oil. Working in batches, add rolls and sear on all sides. Remove from pan and place in an 8 by 8-inch baking dish. Deglaze the pan with wine and reduce by half. Add beef broth, remaining onion, mushrooms and thyme and bring to a boil. Pour sauce over the browned rolls.

5. Bake rolls 45 minutes to 1 hour or until tender.

6. Remove rolls with tongs onto a plate and cover. Pour liquid into a sauce pan and reduce until thickened, about 20 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Serve rolls with sauce—and a mound of mashed potatoes.

Growing up, the recipe was a favorite of my meat-eating family. After seeing my carnivorous husband's reaction, I'm pretty sure this will be a favorite of his, too.

Having a Boeuf

Day 51

Red meat has entered the building. Thank the Lord.

I'm tired of chicken. I'm sick of fish. I could live without pork chops for awhile. My body is craving a big chunk of beef.

So I was beyond thrilled to learn boeuf bourguignon was in the lineup this week. I was even happier that I started as saucier Monday, so I'd be one of the first to cook the dish. If I might say so myself, my partner and I made a kick-ass version. Seriously, it was awesome. We cooked it for two hours in the oven until the meat was super-tender and the red wine sauce thickened to the perfect consistency. I will be making boeuf bourguignon at home in the near future.

In addition, we also made chicken grandmother-style for what seems like the 40th time. I'm beginning to wonder if the school has stock in a poultry farm somewhere.

Cooking so much chicken has definitely made me feel a lot more confident about getting it right, though. I never used to brown the chicken in a saute pan before I threw it in the oven. It makes such a huge difference in the color, and the sauce that can be made from the sucs (the little brown bits in the saute pan) is delicious.

I might have chicken fatigue, but there is one form of poultry I'm craving: turkey. It's not any turkey, though—it's my mom's deep-fried Thanksgiving bird with all the accoutrements.

Turkey Day couldn't come any faster.

Beefing Up

Day 17

I thought emulsified sauce day was heavy on the heart. But add a slab of compound butter to a New York strip steak, throw in a mound of shoestring fries, and you've got a dish that would have any cardiologist tsk-tsking.

That was the pre-lunch dish.

After lunch—which I skipped so my heart would continue to lub-dub—we made a filet with Bordelaise sauce (which comprises red wine, demi-glace, shallots and bone marrow). On the side

were pommes frites. I was tempted to eat steak No. 2 but instead decided to wrap it up for my hardworking husband. He and my heart will thank me.

Tonight, I will be an herbivore—save for a small bite of the beef medallion that will be on Ryan's plate. Just call me Iron (Wo)man.

Chef taught us some basic beef butchering, which I found to be pretty interesting. It was especially entertaining when he called on a volunteer to stand next to him so he could point out a cow's various cuts of meat.

Glad it wasn't me. I'm feeling a little beefy.

Fowl Taste

Day 16

I wish life was just ducky right now. It's not.

I'm writing Friday's post two days late, in the hopes that I would locate my Canon PowerShot that I've had by my side throughout this culinary adventure. (The camera is actually a gift my husband received from my parents, and we've used it on endless vacations and food-related jaunts.) Hopefully, I'll return to school Monday and the point-and-shoot will be waiting for me in the lost-and-found. I don't want to be a Debbie Downer, but I'm not so confident that is going to happen. In the meantime, my phone will serve as my replacement.

There is some good news, though: I've downloaded pretty much every photo on the camera. However, I am missing game bird day.

I'm on a duck hunt.

Speaking of ducks, my class prepared the Long Island variety (a descendent of the white Pekin, just for some random knowledge) with a classic orange sauce; we sauteed the breasts and braised the legs. Yum. The chef's demo dish was a roasted duck with the same sauce. Double

yum.

The final recipe was pan-roasted quail with rice and sausage stuffing. I have three words for that: good yet impractical. The tiny birds look cute on a plate but have virtually no meat. "You would need three of these for a meal," the chef commented. Apparently, he doesn't think big of the little ones either.

Next class will feature my protein of choice: beef. Just to get a head start, I ordered steak tartar for Sunday brunch at L'Ecole, the school's restaurant where I will spend the final two months of my program. It was totally worth the extra cholesterol. Ryan went for it, too, with a ratatouille burger.

Beef. It's what's for dinner—and sometimes for brunch.