Beginnings and belonging

the bottle: 2007 Barbera
the movie: Away We Go by Sam Mendes
the meal: Lamb shanks slow-cooked, with root mash and sautéed braising greens



In this opening post of my new blog in this first week of 2010, what could be more appropriate than a taste of rebirth and connection?

On the one hand, Sara and I are itching to take all the ornaments off the tree, so that we can put them away until next year. Then we can take the tree out of the house with its trail of dried needles, compost it, and get started in the new year with all we have in store.

And yet…we think we’ll leave it up just one more week.

This tree seems like a good metaphor for a certain tension between the desire to stay grounded, connected and together, and the yearning to write a new chapter. (Come to think of it, if new starts weren’t as terrifying as they are exhilarating, we'd surely take more swan dives.)

Grounding, versus soaring. The tension between the two themes is powerful, and they make for...a great start to my blog.

Our meal to start the year here is as rooted as it gets, with slow-cooked, unctuous lamb shanks simmered in the oven in wine and balsamic vinegar until meat falls off bone. The secret glory of this dish is the sweet perfume of a mess of sautéed red onions that caramelize down into beautiful, redolent nutty-ness. To balance out the sweet intensity of the lamb, we enlist a regular—a sturdy sauté of savory braising greens, spiked with smoked bacon. And a creamy, rootsy mash is the perfect referee.

Such a meal will make you stroke your shins and twiddle your toes in a state of utter rapture. Such a meal—it brings belonging and home together on a plate.


And home is our ultimate destination in the completely wonderful small movie, Away We Go. Released in 2009, this dramedy is the story of an average 30’s couple on a journey of discovery as they travel the country, pregnant, visiting friends and family, trying to figure out together where to settle down and be a family. It sounds a bit implausible, but director Sam Mendes pulls it off with the help of some magic between the fantastic couple, Maya Rudolph and John Krasinksi. Her down-to-earth, about-to-bear-a-first-child foil to his dutifully expectant hey-it’ll-all-work-out naïvéte works beautifully, largely because Krasinksi’s charm is irresistible. Some of my favorite lines in the movie come from his sweet yearning for authenticity in the rearing of their child-to-be, and the desire to simply be a really good dad:

Verona (Rudolph) wakes up to find Burt (Krasinksi) whittling away on a piece of wood: “I really want to be that dad that knows how to make stuff out of wood, you know? I just want our kid to wake up in the morning and walk out onto the back porch, and find me cobbling.”

Or, “Oh honey I got this great book on knots—300 knots. I’m going to learn how to tie them all!”

And best of all, deep in thought: “I really want her to have an epic kinda childhood. I want her to run along streams, know how to work a canoe, be able to entertain herself outside. I want her childhood to be Huck Finn-y."

Thank god we didn’t lose (writers) David Eggers and Vendela Vida to the ad biz.

This film manages to ground and soar by being both optimistic and realistic at the same time, and the takeaway is some warm comfort in our quest for meaning and belonging in a world that seems to dole out anomie by the app. Scottish-born Alexi Murdoch’s beautiful soundtrack, mixed with gorgeous scene transitions, completely
sets the stage by managing to evoke emotionality without being sentimental. You’ll buy it on iTunes even before dessert.


I’ll save the trampoline "promises" scene near the end for you to discover. It’s Sara’s favorite part, and even more tender than the lamb.

So let’s meld all of this ooziness of the meal and the movie with a nice bottle of 2007 Pico Maccario Barbera d'Asti Lavignone, which I found for under $10 at Esquin wine merchants in Seattle.

Barbera d'Asti is a hard-workin' Italian red wine made from the Barbera grape in the hilly areas of Northwest Italy. What could be better a place for grounded connection than the earthy, romantic Piedmont area of Italy, famous for its truffles, hazelnuts, herbs, and full, bass tone red wines. The 2007 Pico Maccario is made from older vines and represents the modern style of Barbera, which is rounder and more full bodied than its tart ancestry. When young, like the 2007 Pico Maccario, Barberas give you an intense aroma of fresh red and black berries. Mmmm. Stick your nose deep into the gorgeous, deep red rubyness, with floral aromas of black cherries, violets and ripe plums. (Wait, is it spring yet?) Tease out some leather with your first sip, and then as it passes through your mouth, you'll maybe get some black currants, and finally a jammy-ness with even a bit of licorice undertone as it goes down. It's just delightful—like Burt's playful shouting at Verona to scare mom's, and thus the baby's, heart rate higher. And it complements the lamb beautifully by reflecting and mingling the dark and sweet flavors of the reduced red onion balsamic wine sauce. (Another full-bodied Barbera will serve as a fine alternative.)

This evening, with its sensory delights, will surely warm your spirits and salve your soul. No dampness, nor cold, nor snowy bulwarks or dark short days might resist this balm of camaraderie and cookery. You are home.

Verona: Are we screw-ups?
Burt: What do you mean?
Verona: I mean we're 34
Burt: 33
Verona: We don't even have this basic stuff figured out
Burt: We're not screw-ups
Verona: We have a cardboard window...

The Meal Part
Our stuff is as easy to cook as watching a movie. (Unless it's Scarface.) Take it slow and easy, and don't worry about a bit too much salt, or leaving something in the oven for ten minutes too long. It will all turn out great. It's about showing up, slowing down, enjoying the process, and hanging out with family and friends. We could all use a little of that.
Recipe for lamb shanks
(Adapted from Rogers Gray Italian Country Cookbook)
Serves 4
4 meaty lamb shanks
4 red onions (any sweet onions will work great) sliced thin
3 cloves of garlic or more if you like, chopped
¾ cup of balsamic vinegar
1-¼ cups of red wine (a “plonk” as my Mum used to call it, i.e. cheap and hearty)
Sea salt, pepper
Handful of rosemary, chopped
Olive oil
Some flour

Heat oven to 325 degrees. Thoroughly dry, and then dust lamb shanks in flour with some essandpee. In a good heavy and big saucepan that has a partner lid, brown the shanks all over on a medium high heat in a few tablespoons of olive oil until dark and toast-colored. (I like some burnt bits.) Then remove. Lower the heat and add onions. Cook for a while, until they brown and get soft and gooey—20 minutes or so. Add rosemary, and garlic and cook for ten more minutes or so. Then, raise heat, add the balsamic and wine and reduce at a quiet simmer for five minutes. Then, bury the shanks under the onion goo, place the lid on and stick in the oven for about 2 1/2 hours. See below what fantastic molten alchemy we create.

Recipe for rootsy mash
Serves 4
One Idaho potato
One fat carrot
Two Jerusalem artichokes
One rutabaga
1/4 to 1/2 cup half and half
4 tbsp butter
½ cup chicken or veggie stock
Salt and pepper

Peel and chop first four ingredients into 1-inch pieces. Steam them until a fork firmly pierces the hardest of the lot—about 20 minutes or so. Drain. Mash. Add butter, cream and ¼ cup of stock, adding more liquid to get to desired creaminess. Add essandpee.

Recipe for savory, sauteed braising greens
Serves 4
4 big handfuls of mixed braising greens, including kale, mustard, chard, cavolo nero (also called dino or dinosaur kale), and if you can find them, some of the stranger but delicious ones like dandelion, burgundy-hued amaranth, broccoli rabe, or pungent Asian greens like pak choy
3-4 slices of good smoked bacon (like Harrington’s) cut into smallish pieces
Some minced shallot
Some minced garlic
2-3 tbs olive oil
Some stock
Salt and Pepper
Sweat the bacon in a wide medium depth pan until it renders some of its fat, add olive oil and garlic and shallot. Cook over medium low heat until shallots and garlic start to turn gold and bacon looks mostly cooked through. Add the greens and toss with the oily shallot bacon mixture. Put a few tbsp of stock into the pan and cover with lid. Stir a bit. Then let cook, stirring occasionally, on medium low heat for about 15-20 minutes until the greens are wilted and soft.

With such a satisfying meal, we'll go light for dessert. We love a rich, full-fat greek yogurt swirled with a little maple syrup or honey, and topped with a handful of chopped walnuts or pecans.

Voila, dinner is served.