From Stacey: "This poem, by Mark Strand, comes to mind because I'll be making beef brisket for Passover.
I'm making it the way my mom made it, and the way her mother made it: I use the second (fattier) cut, ordered from a butcher, lots of onions, thyme, broth, wine, and many hours in the oven. I've tried many recipes for brisket, including one that uses a can of coca-cola, but I always come back to a basic braise that I hope induces this kind of swoon in my guests."
Pot Roast
I gaze upon the roast,
that is sliced and laid out
on my plate
and over it
I spoon the juices
of carrot and onion.
And for once I do not regret
the passage of time.
I sit by a window
that looks
on the soot-stained brick of buildings
and do not care that I see
no living thing-not a bird,
not a branch in bloom,
not a soul moving
in the rooms
behind the dark panes.
These days when there is little
to love or to praise
one could do worse
than yield
to the power of food.
So I bend
to inhale
the steam that rises
from my plate, and I think
of the first time
I tasted a roast
like this.
It was years ago
in Seabright,
Nova Scotia;
my mother leaned
over my dish and filled it
and when I finished
filled it again.
I remember the gravy,
its odor of garlic and celery,
and sopping it up
with pieces of bread.
And now
I taste it again.
The meat of memory.
The meat of no change.
I raise my fork
and I eat.
- Mark Strand, Selected Poems (Alfred A. Knopf, 1990)
(Thanks, Stacey!)
(photo: Meat Promotion Wales)
There's nothing that can evoke memories and emotions like the familiar scents, flavours and rituals of a particular dish.
I've got my own brisket memories: braised brisket with ground bean sauce and oranges, an old-school Chinese dish. My mom would make it from time to time on the weekend and the smell of it would permeate the house, announcing itself to the family.
I still get a warm fuzzy feeling when I make it now.
this is right on time, yesterday i made the first pot roast i've made in years i know. from the Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook i used to use when i was in high school and my mom was working at night. My first one my brother stuck his lip out and said "No one is going to eat lima beans," blah, blah, blah -- he was the main one going back for seconds.