Going to pot: What's the difference between a stew and casserole and does it really matter?
View
comments
The stew is the simplest of dishes, a slow cooked mass of soft, unctuous meat, caressed by a deeply flavoured, beautifully rich sauce.
Even the most cack-handed of kitchen neophytes could throw together this classic one-pot wonder, and it's certainly the most forgiving of culinary techniques.
But try to define exactly what a stew is, and how it differs from a braise, casserole and pot-roast, and things get stickier.
The stew is the simplest of dishes, a slow cooked mass of soft meat, caressed by a deeply flavoured rich sauce (above braised beef in red wine sauce)
Larousse Gastronomique, that hefty bible of Gallic gastronomy, describes the process as 'long, slow cooking in liquid.'
And The Oxford Companion To Food, the greatest reference tome of them all, simply describes it as 'a simmer in a closed container'. So far, so straightforward.
What, then, is a braise?
Larousse goes for 'a moist cooking method using a little liquid that barely simmers at a low temperature on top of the stove or in the oven', and OCF agrees.
A pot-roast is seen by both as a meat cooked in a small amount of liquid in a closed vessel - I'm seeing a pattern here - while a casserole is not only the cooking container, but yet another variation of meat or vegetables slowly cooked with liquid.
Actually, a casserole was how my mother would describe her chicken stew, in a vain attempt to get us to eat it. But that's another story.
All these methods sound remarkably similar, so rather than flail about in this turgid semantic pool, I went to Marco Pierre White.
If anyone knew the truth it would be him. I explained my predicament and waited expectantly to catch the pearls of wisdom as they dropped from his lips.
He was silent for a moment, then smiled: 'There's no bloody difference at all.'
That boring business out the way, we can get on with the cooking basics. A low, slow heat is the key to a good stew, and using cheaper, tougher cuts of meat.
You want those that have done a bit of work, the shin of beef and shank of lamb, knuckle of bacon or best end of mutton. You want connective tissue, and lots of it. Boil it and those fibres will contract, become dry and horribly chewy.
A gentle simmer, though, will transform this inedible collagen into soft, melting gelatine. And you'll end up with chunks of meat so tender you can cut them with a spoon. As culinary alchemy goes, stewing is up there with the best. Browning the meat first gives the stew an extra layer of flavour.
This doesn't seal in the juices, as many still erroneously believe, but gives the beef, chicken, lamb or pork a wonderful caramelised crust, a process known as the Maillard reaction. These sticky, dark brown bits contain the essence of the meat and add real depth to the stew.
More from Tom Parker Bowles Event for The Mail on Sunday...
- TOM PARKER BOWLES: Why you simply must pour yourself a glass of creamy, rich, voluptuous... raw milk 17/06/23
- Tom Parker Bowles & Olly Smith 17/09/20
- EATING OUT: Tom Parker Bowles & Olly Smith 10/09/20
- Pure, not prissy: Indian at its best 12/03/20
- A devilishly spicy taste of Paradise 05/03/20
- California dreamy... Victor Garvey's Sola brings together technical expertise and quality ingredients to serve up Los Angeles sunshine in the heart of London's Soho 27/02/20
- The Fat Duck's No 2? He's a real No 1 now 20/02/20
- Naans vast and crisp, the size of a pillow 13/02/20
- Britain's 50 most romantic restaurants: From a treehouse on Loch Goil to a converted Dutch barge, Tom Parker Bowles reveals his favourite places for an intimate Valentine's dinner that's also truly delicious 06/02/20
- VIEW FULL ARCHIVE
Use a very hot pan and cook your meat in small batches. Once finished, deglaze the pan with wine, water or stock, making sure that you scrape off every last bit of meaty goodness and add to the pot. Onions are a must, the soul of any stew. Carrots and celery are favourites too, the former adding sweetness, the latter providing a mysterious rounding of edges.
One of my favourite stews is a Mexican beef version, in which I use dried and rehydrated chipotle chillies, for a smoky, warming heat. And I add a tin of tomatoes, though this ingredient should be used with care as subtle it ain't. A classic British or Irish stew tends to leave them out.
But it's purely a matter of taste. Stock, for me, is the best braising liquid and any stew is improved with the addition of a bone, bringing extra viscosity and carnivorous depth. A split pig's foot will do the same, as will a few hunks of pork rind. The texture is as important as the taste. Because a proper stew is the greatest of all winter dishes, soothing, rich and slightly gelatinous.
As to the name, who really cares, as long as flavour is profound, the serving generous and the effect suitably divine?
YOUR CHRISTMAS ESSENTIALS: PART I
CHEESE
Stilton
Either Colston Bassett or Stichelton. The former is made with pasteurised milk, and is rich, strong and buttery. The latter uses organic unpasteurised milk and is filled with nutty, spicy notes and a deep-seated savoury charm.
Cheddar
Montgomery's, the finest of them all, perfectly balanced with a finish that brings a tear to the eye. Keen's is good too.
Berkswell
A modern classic, rich, sweet and beautifully nutty.
All from nealsyarddairy.co.uk
HAM
Sandridge Farmhouse
Roger and Rosemary Keen are masters of raising and curing pork, and their range of hams is stunning. The honey roast is a classic, and one of the best in the land. But the Brumham and Chipnam hams are wonderful too. This is real English ham, as it should taste.
sandridgefarmhousebacon.co.uk
Dukeshill Ham
The Shropshire Black (dry cured then marinated in molasses, juniper and spices) and Wiltshire are both first class.
dukeshillham.co.uk
AND BEER TO MATCH
For the perfect bottle of beer to partner with Stilton, try either a Worthington's White Shield IPA (selected Tesco, Sainsbury's and Booths) or a Brakspear Triple (selected Asda stores) with dried apricot flavours that contrast beautifully with the saline kick of the cheese.
For the ham, try Innis and Gunn Rum Cask (£1.99, from Waitrose), which has enough sweetness to act like a boozy form of Cumberland sauce.
ncG1vNJzZmivp6x7pa3IpbCmmZmhe6S7ja6iaKCforJwuc6so6KulWSus8DInKOeZWFngHGDmHFmjYd9Yp2Cnqp%2BiWZ6f4yZhp%2BMkJ%2BarKNisaqyxZ6pnqaTmnq0wMSwZJyZo6iys7vLnmSdp5WoerOxwKWjsmWdlsG1sdFnn62lnA%3D%3D