Blooper Reel, #003: Carbonnade a la Creole Mk. II

A major aspect of this blog's purpose is experimentation.  This is a forum for sharing my exploration of new and delicious things to cook.  Every so often, this results in failure.  In the interest of full disclosure, honesty, and such I endeavor to share all of my experiments, rather than only those that make me look good.  This experiment, as you will see, ended with a less than stellar result.

The dish I made tonight is a further exploration of the concept of Carbonnade a la Creole: the union of New Orleans style spice with a Flemish style beef-beer-and-onion stew.  My earlier attempt at this was edible, but failed to capture the flavor I was going for.  Now that I have explored creole cooking more deeply, I have a much better sense of how to achieve the spiciness I desire.  I also decided to apply another technique I learned recently, to significantly more mixed results. . .

What follows is the recipe and results that produced tonight's experiment.  I would not recommend copying it exactly.

The Ingredients
Seasoning
-2 bay leaves
-1 1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
-1/2 tsp. salt
-1/2 tsp. white pepper
-1 tsp. dry thyme
-1/2 tsp. black pepper
-1/2 tsp. rubbed sage

Roux
-1 cup cooking oil
-1 cup all purpose flour

Meat, Onion, and Other
-1 1/2 lbs. chuck roast, cut into bite size pieces
-1/2 lb. pork tasso, cut into bite size pieces
-2 large onions, chopped
-2 slices bacon, chopped
-1 1/2 tsp. brown sugar
-2 bottles Abita Amber (Munich style lager)
-2 cans beef broth

Finishing
-1 handful fresh parsley, chopped
-1 Tbs. creole mustard

In my previous attempt at this concept I used andouille sausage rather than tasso.  Tasso, I think, fits the concept a little better, so we're going with that.

BEEF!

And this would be the 'tears' portion of tonight's 'blood, sweat, and tears.'

I maintain that beef is the most attractive of raw meats.  A nice cut of beef is a thing of beauty.

The Process
The first step is to brown your beef in a large skillet.  Seasoning at this point is optional, but I always throw in some ground black pepper, just because.  Once the beef is browned, set it aside in a large bowl with any juices the browning may have produced.  De-glaze the pan with some beef broth.  Now fry up the chopped bacon in the pan.  Don't get it too crispy.  Just cook it until the fat has rendered.  Remove the bacon with a wooden spoon and place it with the beef.

The browning of the beef.

Now, add your onions to the bacon grease and cook them until the start to turn a little golden.  Then add the brown sugar 1/2 teaspoon at a time, stirring it into the onions well.  Continue to cook until the onions caramelize and turn a nice rich golden brown color.

Well bacon my skillet and caramelize my onions!

Take the caramelized onions off the heat and make a roux in a dutch oven.  Once the roux is a deep golden brown color, add the caramelized onions and cook for one or two minutes.  Then add the beef, tasso, and bacon.  Then the seasoning mix.  Once it's all mixed in, pour in one bottle of beer and both cans of beef broth.  Bring it to a boil and cook for 2 hours.  About halfway through, add the second bottle of beer (this was less planned and more a reaction to how. . . thick. . . the dish was getting.

A nice golden brown roux.

Onions sizzling away.

With the meat and spice medley.

Just add beer.  I would have liked to have used Abita Abbey Ale, as it's the closest Abita in style to what you would use for Carbonnade a la Flamande.  Unfortunately, they don't have it at the grocery near my folk's place.

Coming along. . .

About ten minutes before it's done, add the handful of parsley and the Tbs. of creole mustard.  I served it with crepes, but spaetzle, rice, or some sort of potato dish would also work.

Well, it's not exactly a tablespoon. . .

Parsley!

The Results
Well, I got the desired spiciness to come out real nice, without the taste bud destroying fire the jambalaya had.  The tasso also lent itself nicely to the dish, blending in nicely with the beef.  My idea is to keep as true to the appearance and spirit of carbonnade as possible, so it definitely does a better job than andouille.

Unfortunately, I probably should have reconsidered the roux.  It was, simply, too much.  It completely took over, making the dish sort of. . . doughy.  I had considered adding some celery and bell pepper to complete the trinity.  This probably would have mitigated the roux somewhat, but I felt that adding these things would have compromised the carbonnade-ness of the dish.  Future attempts at perfecting the dish should either use far less roux, or rely on alternative methods for flour delivery.

CREPES!

Well, this is disappointing.

And hardly appears appetizing.

There.  Don't have to look at it anymore.