SFist in the Kitchen: Braising
Those of us who enjoy the grey, rainy days of winter have been frustrated by the glaringly bright sunshine we've had of late. At least it's cold enough for the season; even the test kitchen's frigid facilities seem warm when we come in from the street.
We're holding the hypothermia at bay by braising everything around us. This cooking technique, where food is cooked in a little liquid for a long time at low temperature, produces luscious, tender meals that comfort the soul and stave off the chill. Plus, the oven stays on throughout a long braise, which keeps the kitchen warm, if nothing else.
All braises use the same basic technique, differing only in time and cooking liquid: Prep, brown, braise, sauce. You don't need a recipe after you've done it a couple times; we didn't use one for the vermouth-braised chicken legs we made for this demonstration. You can quickly braise tough veggies and tender cuts of meat, but the best choice is to slowly cook collagen-heavy pieces of meat like shoulders, shanks, and short ribs. The lengthy braise transforms tough meat into something so tender you can flake it with a fork. Imagine barbecue, but wetter and without the smoke.
Photos by Melissa Schneider
First, prep your ingredients. If you're braising meat, you should season it well in advance so the salt has a chance to penetrate the meat. We rubbed a little salt up under the skin of our chicken legs, and also on the outside. Then we let them sit in the refrigerator for about three hours. If you're braising vegetables such as fennel or celery, you'll probably just need to chop them into finger-length chunks. You might want to trim and core Brussels sprouts, however.
Next, heat some oil in a pan and add your ingredient. The low temperature of a braise doesn't allow for any browning, so this is your chance to add those more complex flavors. We seared our chicken legs skin side down for about five minutes and then flipped them over to sear the exposed meat.
Pour off the excess fat and add your braising liquid. You can use a number of different liquids—including plain water—but we tend to use wine or stock. We used straight vermouth for our chicken legs. If you use something alcoholic, add it to the pan off the heat. The first bit of liquid you splash in will steam up furiously, but pour in more until the liquid comes about a third of the way up the food. If it will be a long braise, you can add dried herbs and shallots or other aromatics. If you're braising a green like chard, you barely need to add any water beyond what you used to wash the leaves. Scrape any browned bits from the pan so that they're floating freely in the liquid.
Cover and reduce the heat. We'll often put our pan in a low heat oven—200° or so is the lowest temperature we can coax out of our stove—or we'll put it on our lowest-power burner with a flame tamer underneath. For a long braise in particular, you don't want the liquid to boil and overcook the meat as the collagen dissolves.
Check the pot periodically; make sure there's still enough liquid and see if the food is tender. Meat should pull apart easily with a fork, and vegetables should yield to a fork's tines without resistance. Brussels sprouts take about eight minutes. Our chicken legs took about thirty minutes, though they could have used a little more time. Short ribs can take a good two or three hours, as can duck legs. Brisket will take five or six hours.
When the food's done, uncover the pot, remove the ingredients to a warm plate, and use the remaining liquid to make a sauce. We reduced the tart, meaty broth left in our pan, mounted in some butter to thicken it, checked for seasoning, and used the warm sauce to reheat the legs. We served our chicken with blanched and shocked carrots and parsnips that we finished in duck fat and then garnished with chopped up carrot tops. This dish would do well with a German Riesling—what wouldn't—but the Italian white wine we drank also worked nicely.