Meat
Todd: I took the traditional Jewish braised brisket (see The Jewish Brisket, Modernized) and added techniques from my French arsenal to come up with a modern, elegant version of this beloved meat dish. It must be made a day before you wish to serve it, but there's an extra plus with thatit lets all the flavors fully develop and frees you for other things.
Todd: The exalted position that brisket holds in Jewish American cooking cannot be underestimated. My first exposure to it was interesting as well as inspirational.
Ellen: He came over to our house for the holidays and had his first brisket, which (sorry Mom) was somewhat dry. Braising isn't her forte. Unfortunately, Todd met my grandmother and Aunt Lil in the last few years of their lives when they weren't cooking much anymore, so he never got to taste their brisket, which was glorious.
Todd: The thing about brisket is that it needs to be braised low and slow to keep it moist and then cut against the grain. The traditional way of making Jewish brisket is as a pot roast: searing it and braising for three hours or so in a fairly low oven, often with lots of onions.
I like a non-traditional version that utilizes French technique. You braise the meat (with red wine, veal stock, and balsamic vinegar), then remove it from the braising liquid once it's cooked, press it down with weights to compress it and then refrigerate it. This compacts the meat and presses excess fat out of it. Once the meat is cold, you cut it into 5-ounce blocks (known as pavés in French, which means cobblestones) and reheat them in strained and reduced braising liquid. It's an elegant, modern version of brisket.
