Mock Moroccan Beef Stew

Last night I cooked a “Thank God this school year is over!” dinner for Sarah and Jarrod, a couple of our young friends from Aquinas College.  Knowing they were easy to please after years of the dreaded cafeteria, I decided to create as I cook, allowing the food to dictate its own destiny.  I prefer cooking this way over using someone else’s recipe; each dish is a masterpiece all its own.  There might be similar experiences, but never exactly.

My Yaya was a dump-cook (literally how she added ingredients without measuring) and I inherited her style of cooking from the hip.  The only sad part of cooking this way is, when we really love a particular recipe, I can approximate it again, but my hyper-tuned taste buds will inform me that it isn’t the same, forever.  This said, it is important for any who follow to understand that all of my recipes are mere estimations of the mixture of ingredients needed to create the dish.  Keep it loose, and have fun; and add or subtract as you wish (or dare).

 Once, in fourth grade, my Yaya and I set out to conjure some Moroccan food for my class.  Just days before, Mrs. Ellen Bramson assigned each of her students a country for which we would research and make an edible treat to present to the class.  I remember getting Morocco, a country in Africa that I’d never heard of before, and had no idea what types of foods they ate there.  That night I called my Yaya and explained my cooking assignment to her.  She was excited to take on the challenge, and said she would be over the next day to help me.

  

The next evening,Yaya arrived with a recipe, not for cookies, cakes or breads, but something altogether different.  She found a main course:  Moroccan stew; she figured it had the potential to wow any fourth grader, and maybe my teacher as well.  I planned to be the big surprise in class.  I could not read very well in fourth grade, but they all were about to find out that I could cook.  I was really a chip off the Polish block, kitchen block, anyway.  Food is my love language and I was up to the challenge to show my teacher my worth through kitchen talents.  When we got down to work, Yaya passed me peppers, carrots, onions and garlic and told me to get chopping, while she sliced the stew meat into little cubes.  As she threw the meat into the sizzling hot oil, the hot seasoned steam assaulted our senses, provoking our stomachs to protest, yearning for the contents of the pan.

Hours later, my school project was in a bowl wrapped with Glad-wrap and  awaiting the next morning’s debut.  I spent a sleepless night, excitedly awaiting my class’s taste test.  To this day, I remember the look on Mrs. Bramson’s face when she realized that I’d actually cooked a mini-meal for the class; her chocolate brown eyes grew larger and started to sparkle; she knew Yaya helped, and that meant my Moroccan stew would be a real treat.  The other kids made as easy a treat as possible for the class to sample; their families did not enjoy cooking as much as my Yaya and me.  Mine was the hit of the class, a complete triumph.

Periodically over the years, I’ve had a desire for the taste of my Moroccan stew that I made with Yaya.  Last night’s dinner touched my memory banks, alerting me to the close match.  I know that it was not exactly the same, but it was close enough to take me back to 1974, when I was in fourth grade, when I heard my favorite teacher’s raving “Mmmmm,” as she emptied her bowl of my Moroccan stew.

Mock Moroccan Beef Stew

Place 2 lbs of stew meat into a crockpot. Add about 3 or 4 cups of water, 3 bay leaves, and 2 bouillon cubes.  Cook on high until the meat is tender.  

Break up the meat and add:  about 1 cup BBQ sauce, 2 good squeezes honey, 10 shakes soy sauce, dried red peppers, chopped onion, 2 garlic cloves, 4 celery and cook on medium until vegetables are tender.

In a frying pan sauté: 1 green (or red, yellow, orange) pepper, onion (chopped in sesame oil until tender).  

Add: 1/4 cup of flour and brown.  After the flour is browned add the meat mixture and a can of coconut milk.  

Let simmer on low for about 15 minutes.

Serve with real Basmati rice from the local Mediterranean market.  (I’ll bet you find one if you look)