Sunday, January 27, 2013

Yummy Beef Soup

I like beef and I especially like beef from our seller at the Oak Park farmer's market.  Every fall, we stock up on the last day of the market so that we have healthier and more responsibly grown beef throughout the winter.  This year, we tried a new cut--beef shank.  We got two.  The first I made into a more traditional Western pot roast-like meal cooked low and slow in red wine and stock with mirepoix.  But truthfully?  Meh.  Dan loved it, but I won't cook it that way again. There's a dusty taste to cheaper beef cuts prepared in that way that I don't like and everything in the dish ends up tasting like beef. . . as it turns out, I don't like beef that much. 

So, on my second try, I thought, "Let's try to keep the yummy beef, but this time, let's let everything else still taste like itself," and enter my attempt at an Asian-inspired soup.  I made an Asian broth of ginger, carrots, onion and beef--and then used the broth and the beef (now falling off the bone), plus new veggies to make a super tasty soup that satisfied on a col winter's night.  Here's how. . . 


Amy's Asian Flavors Beef Soup 
(Serves 2 with large entree servings)
Hands on time: 30 minutes  Total Cooking Time: 5 hours
  • 1 lb. beef shank
  • 6 in. long ginger root--skinned and then cut into inch long chunks
  • 1 med. yellow onion--peeled and quartered
  • 5 large carrots--peeled; cut two carrots into big chunks and dice the other two carrots
  • 1 c. head napa cabbage (bok choy might also be good)--rough chop
  • 1 sm. bunch green onions--dice up all of it right down to the roots
  • 1 c. peas--frozen or fresh
  • salt and honey to taste
  • optional hot pepper
Make the Soup Base
In a 3.5 quart dutch oven, toss in 4 of the ginger root pieces, the yellow onion, the two chunk-cut carrots, then fill pot 2/3rds full with water.  Put over high heat on the stove and bring to a boil.  Once boiling, add the beef shank (the water should come to within an inch of the top of the pot.  Bring water back to a boil and then immediately turn heat down to medium low, put the top on and simmer for a minimum of 4.5 hours.

Finish the soup
Using a slotted spoon, remove the beef shank (which should be falling off the bone) and set aside.  Remove the rest of the big chunks of vegetables and dispose of them.  Then strain stock into a bowl through a fine strainer lined with a cheese cloth to take out all of the tiny bits of impurities.  You should be left with a pretty, clear yellow broth that smells delicious.

Put the broth back on the stove and season to suit your taste.  I am a fan--especially with a dusky meat like beef or pork--of a slightly sweet broth and so I use the honey liberally and then throw in a tiny dash of cayenne pepper.  Bring the soup back to a boil, throw in the diced carrots, and the rest of the ginger (the ginger shouldn't be eaten, it's just to add an additional fresher ginger taste in the close).  Put the top back on, reduce the heat to medium.  Cook for ten minutes and then add peas and cook for another 5 minutes.


While the carrots and peas cook, shred the beef into bite-sized chunks (be careful, it might still be hot) and evenly divide between two big soup bowls.  Also divide cabbage and and green onions between two bowls (make sure you evenly divide the white and green parts of the onions between bowls).  Ladle two spoonfuls of hot soup over the ingredients in the bowls to warm them up and gently cook the cabbage and onions.


In two minutes, Ladle the rest of the soup (dividing carrots and peas evenly) into the two bowls.

And then enjoy.  This is ridiculously good. . . especially on a cold winter's day.


A Few of My Favorite Things

Yesterday, we took the Christmas decorations down.  Some people might think this is late, but the house rule is that they can't be up by Valentines Day--and we have missed that mark by several weeks and are feeling pretty good about that.

But I always feel a little sad about taking down Christmas decorations.  In large part the sadness comes from the house being all plan and ordinary again without twinkle lights and the sparkly tinsel tree--and yet days are still short and drear outside. (we should have specially decorated homes all winter long, durn it!)  But Christmas ornaments also bring back so many memories of Dan's and my early years together and of people who have given us or made us ornaments.  Decorating the tree in my house (and then again in my parent's home) is always half decorating chore and larger half conversation about the history of all of the ornaments and the people to whom their attached.  And so, packing all of that away, feels like packing those memories away, too, for another ten months.  If decorating is celebration, undecorating feels a little like mourning.

So, this go around, I decided to immediately take quick stock of the year round decoration that I have clearly been taking for granted.  My house is filled with objects that are there precisely because they make me happy or are attached to memories and people that I love. Take the display portion of our hutch for example:


Filled with artwork from friends, driftwood from walks, childhood toys, a few pieces that belonged to my grandparents and remind me of them now that I have lost them all, items that Dan and I have picked up in our ten year life together.  Not the usual stuff maybe to keep in a velvet-lined hutch commissioned and handmade by a french cabinet maker for my Great great aunt (oh the literally rich history of my family. . . we are lesser people now, but still have a few spoils of the heyday), but it's many of my most valuable belongings and so I keep them behind lock and key.

My favorite shelf in the hutch:


  1. Old books--Grandpa Hartsock collected old books and was quite a reader.  I got a lot of his    collection when he passed on.
  2. A glass ornament that my parents gave us that is too dear and too fragile to trust to a wobbly tree.
  3. Two tiny people and a shark head all made by one of my best friends, Casey Millard--pieces that suggest the larger body of her amazing work.
  4. A little wooden elephant that my friend Alex sent me long long ago from Germany.  Back then, we were huge letter writers.  I miss that.
  5. A tiny chair made out of the wire from a champagne bottle.  I've made those for years.  Robin Williams does that in The Fisher King--a movie that came along at a sad point in my life and gave me a glimpse of a way to make happy from tragedy.
  6. A German wooden box (I believe the flower on the front is an Edelweiss) that belonged to my Grandmother Hartsock.  It's a trick box that opens in a hidden way.  We played with this and other boxes of hers all throughout our childhood.  Hers were also kept in a hutch behind a glass door in the corner of the room.
  7. A Rookwood vase that I have loved for as long as I can remember, and Mom sent it home with me this last trip home for Christmas.  They're winnowing their positions a little, but that I have this now makes me feel like I might now be a grown up.
  8. In the very back, driftwood from the Indiana Dunes.  I picked those up (and then wouldn't throw them, much to LP's anger and disappointment) during a freezing winter walk Dan and I took along the lake shore when we couldn't take being cooped up one day longer winters ago.

A small corner of the dining room:

  1. A desk that had belonged to my great uncle Louis.
  2. An ice bucket given to us by my aunt and uncle for our wedding.
  3. A cocktail shaker I bought secondhand in a small mountain town during grad school.
  4. A beautiful wood vase my parents bought for me during our last trip to the Outer Banks.
  5. A print by Lisa Congdon of birch trees--a gift from Dan that reminds me of most of the trips we have taken together to Door County Wisconsin and to Maine.

One of my office walls:


There's maybe too much to label here, but there's art by friends and by people I have met at art/craft fairs.  The plates are from antique stores, but also Anthropologie. The monster toy in the yellow and green sweater is the first toy I ever made out of yarn.  The toy with the big orange ears is the first toy I ever crocheted and which evolved into the kinds of toys I make now (but really truly seeing that guy in this context again?  maybe I should go back and make some more of those).  The little tiny monkey sitting next to the Indiana University mug (also a gift from elephant-Alex) was a gift from Dan that he brought to me when I got out of out back surgery.  I kept a tight grip on that monkey for the next 24 hours until I was released--his softness was a comfort before I knew if I would be okay.

Belongings aren't just things.  They're memories.  And if they aren't. . . you're doing it wrong.

Monday, January 21, 2013

My Favorite 2012 Movie(s)

I don't have a best of list.  I didn't see that many new releases in movie theaters.  In my household, we're trying to see a bunch of the Oscar films before that actual awards show (which is funny because I've grown steadily more skeptical of awards shows each and every year.  Why do we care so much about crazy-rich people winning awards for work they love and are overpaid for? But, of course, we will tune in. ).  However, there are a bunch of Oscar films that I don't want to see, because I don't think I could take it--either due to extreme violence done to the human body or wretched sadness.  Maybe it's not that I don't want to see them, but that I just can't do it. . . (I'm looking at you, Amour, Django Unchained, and The Impossible).

But each year, there's a movie or two that stands out for me.  This year that spot is held by both an Oscar-contender and a small indie film that has gone pretty unnoticed:  Silver Lining Playbook and Safety Not Guaranteed.  Both movies are about love and loss and mental illness and joy.  That last one is the biggie--joy.

There aren't many American movies made about joy.  Spectacle?  Check.  Deeply conflicted and brooding main characters? Check.  Political Intrigue?  Check.  Suffering?  Yup.  Mean spirited humor?  Sure thing.  Revenge?  You bet.  But joy?  Not so much.

So when a movie ends in a place of totally surprising happiness--and I don't mean just a happy ending, I mean something that actually shocks my system with a burst of happiness that makes me laugh and cry at the same time--I'm hooked. 

SLP and SNG are the films that did that to me this year.  See them.  You not only won't be disappointed by them, you'll be happier for having done so.  And right now?  Who doesn't need a little happy.