Boeuf Bourguignon
Four people. One pot of boeuf bourguignon. A bottle of French wine, Hennessy cognac, and madeleines. Four nights before Christmas, we turned Mom's kitchen into our own French bistro.
We're not in France yet. We're still here in Washington, counting down the months until we leave. But Lelaine and I decided it was time to stop just talking about French food and start cooking it. And if we were going to cook French, we wanted to share it with the people who matter most: Mom and Don, just the four of us around the table.
Why Boeuf Bourguignon
I've been reading about French cooking for years and cooking it from time to time. Watching videos, studying techniques, imagining what it would be like to walk into a bistro in Lyon or Montpellier and order something that's been simmering for hours. Boeuf bourguignon felt like the right place to start, not because it's easy, but because it's honest. It's peasant food elevated by patience and wine.
Lelaine and I talked it over and agreed: if we're going to France, we should at least know how to make one of the classics before we get there.
Cooking Together
We started early in the day. The recipe doesn't lie. This is not a quick meal. You brown the beef in batches, render the bacon, caramelize the onions and carrots. Then comes the wine. A lot of it. The moment that red wine hit the hot pan, the kitchen filled with a smell I can only describe as deep and rich, almost earthy. Thyme, bay leaves, garlic. Everything you think France should smell like.
Lelaine handled the vegetables while I worked on the beef. We found a rhythm pretty quickly, moving around each other in the kitchen without getting in each other's way. There's something about cooking a slow meal together that feels different from just making dinner. You're not rushing. You're building something.
The hardest part? Waiting. Once everything was in the pot, covered, and simmering low, there wasn't much to do except let time do its work. French cooking teaches you patience whether you want to learn it or not.
The Meal
By the time we sat down, the beef was fork-tender, the sauce had reduced into something glossy and dark, and the whole house smelled incredible. We opened the French wine, poured the Hennessy, and served the bourguignon in wide bowls with some handmade dumplings (optional) and bread on the side.
First bite? Worth every minute of waiting.
The flavors were complex in a way I wasn't expecting. You could taste the wine, but also the bacon, the herbs, the sweetness from the carrots and pearl onies. It wasn't just "beef stew." It was layered, balanced, the kind of thing you want to eat slowly and savor.
Don and Mom loved it. There's something satisfying about watching people you care about enjoy food you've made. The conversation flowed easily: talking about the holidays, about France, about how strange and exciting it is that we'll be gone in a few months. But mostly we just ate, drank, and enjoyed being together.
For dessert, we kept it simple: madeleines with fresh fruit and whipped cream. Nothing fancy, but it felt right. Light and sweet after a rich main course.
What It Meant
This wasn't just dinner. It felt like practice for the life we're about to step into, where meals matter, where food is something you take time with, where sitting around a table with people you love is as important as the cooking itself.
But it was also something else. A way of saying thank you to Mom and Don. A way of sharing what we're excited about, what's pulling us toward France. And maybe, in a small way, a chance to bring a little piece of France here before we go.
Lelaine and I talked about it afterward. We're going to do this again before we leave. Maybe coq au vin next time. Maybe a simple cassoulet. It doesn't matter as much which dish we choose. What matters is the ritual of it: cooking together, slowing down, making something worth remembering.
We're not in France yet, but for one night, our kitchen got pretty close.
Boeuf Bourguignon Recipe
Serves 4
Ingredients
2 tbsp cooking oil (1 tbsp to cook the meat and 1 tbsp to cook the garnish)
1.5 lbs (500 g) chuck steak or short ribs, or both, cut into rough chunks
10 button mushrooms, quartered
8 pearl onions (whole small onion or shallot)
1 piece (9 oz [250 g]) streaky bacon, cut into lardons (keep the rind for cooking too)
1 tbsp tomato paste
2 tbsp (20 g) flour
½ cup (120 ml) madeira wine (optional)
1 bottle (750 ml) full bodied red wine (cabernet sauvignon or Côte du Rhône)
2 cloves garlic, bruised
1 bouquet garni (branch of thyme, parsley stalks, celery leaf, bay leaf rolled in a leek leaf)
5 or more small spring carrots (peeled and whole)
Salt and pepper to taste
Mise en Place
Season the meat pieces generously
Macerate the lardon in 100 ml of madeira wine for 30 minutes or more (optional)
To make the toasted flour, place the flour in a small saucepan over high heat and stir constantly until it turns a chestnut color and starts to smell nutty
Preheat the oven to 325°F (160°C)
Method
Heat the oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over high heat, and then sear the beef in batches on all sides until dark brown. When done, set the meat aside in a plate for now.
Using the same pot, add a little more oil and sear the mushrooms until golden, and then add the onions and let cook for about 5 minutes until they become lightly colored. When done, remove from the pot and set aside.
Now, add the bacon to the pot and sear for a few minutes.
Return the beef to the pot and mix in the tomato paste to enhance the color. Deglaze with the Madeira wine (optional) and leave to reduce for a minute before stirring in the toasted flour. Mix well to incorporate.
Add the mushrooms, onions and bacon back to the pot and stir everything gently to distribute the garnish around.
Finish by emptying the bottle of wine into the pot, and if necessary, top up with water so that the liquid just about covers the meat. Then, add the rind, bouquet garni, carrots and garlic. Bring to a light boil and use a spoon to scoop off the foam that has accumulated on the surface.
When ready, turn the heat off, cover the pot with a lid and place in the oven. Slow cook for 3 hours, undisturbed, until the beef is tender and can be easily pulled apart with a fork.
When cooked, remove from the oven and adjust the seasoning if necessary. Serve with potatoes, rice and some crusty bread for the sauce with a glass of red wine (of course).
Recipe created by Stephane at The French Cooking Academy