Tag Archives: onions

Balsamic Pot Roast with Blueberries and Thyme

I threatened to make this dish in this post, and make it I did, using up one of the two gigantic arm roasts from my grandfather that had been occupying valuable freezer space for far too long. And was it ever good! I give all credit to the creator of the recipe over at The Noshery, because it never would have occurred to me to add blueberries to a pot roast. They give the final dish a fun kind of tang that complemented the already rich and savory flavors that always come with roasting meat for hours and hours. I have also never tasted such delicious onions. Some heavenly chemistry involving the balsamic vinegar happened, and the onions are both melt-in-your-mouth and chock full of flavor. Chock! Full! And the carrots . . . ooooh! Oh. *fanning self* OK.

I won’t talk about the amazingness of the mushrooms at all, because I might start crying. Plus, you’ve heard me rave about mushrooms far too often by now.

With some (but not many) variations on the original, here it is. Your fall experience won’t be complete without a good pot roast, so you might as well make this one since it will fulfill your taste buds’ every dream and longing.

Ingredients

(Serves 7-8)

1-3 lb  to 4 lb roast (chuck roast or arm roast)

1/2 c flour, optional

1/4 c Olive oil, divided

2 large onions

5 large carrots

6 oz baby portobello mushrooms

10 cloves garlic

1/2 c balsamic vinegar

3/4 c beef broth

1/3 c wine (I used sweet white wine)

16 oz tomato sauce

2 c fresh blueberries

Salt and pepper, to taste

3 TBS fresh thyme leaves plus 3 sprigs to garnish

First, preheat the oven to 275 degrees.

Quarter the onions, chop each carrot into 4-5 pieces, smash the garlic cloves (I leave them whole) and remove the skin, and thickly slice the mushrooms. I like to use nice, meaty mushrooms for this:

Pull the thyme leaves off of their stems:

Heat some of the olive oil in a large Dutch oven over medium high heat. When it’s hot, add the onions and carrots. Sprinkle them with some salt and pepper–you know you want to. And does anyone else adore licking some freshly ground pepper straight out of your palm?

Huh. I could have sworn I wasn’t alone there . . .

Cook them for 6-7 minutes, until they’re nicely browned, and then take them out and set them aside in a bowl.

OK, those weren’t as ‘nicely browned’ as they could have been–but I was huuungry! And dinner was still hours and hours away!

Add a little more olive oil to the pot. Still on medium high heat, add the mushrooms and garlic . . .

. . . and fry 4-5 minutes until golden.

Remove them as well. Try not to eat every single one–it would make your life a wonderful and perfect place in the moment, but it would also really detract from the final dish. Choose the delayed gratification route! Abstinence always! It’s the more mature option.

OK, and sneak a little bite in, too–I mean, what’s the fun in complete mushroom self denial?

Sprinkle generous amounts of salt and pepper all over the roast. This is optional, but you can also give it a light coating of white flour, which will later help to thicken the sauce into something more like a gravy. Add the rest of the olive oil to the pot, and when it’s heated, add the roast.

Sear on all sides so that it’s a dark brown color all over. This should take about 8-10 minutes.

Remove the roast to a plate or bowl.

With the burner still on medium high, add the vinegar, wine, and broth. You can totally use red wine here–that was my first instinct. You know–red meat, red wine. However, all I had was some sweet white wine left over from making Pasta Fresca, and that was also delicious, so don’t be a discriminator. You can’t go wrong with wine when it comes to a roast. I love all the colors!

Stir and bring to a rapid simmer, scraping the bottom to collect all the brown bits that add flavor to the sauce. Add the tomato sauce:

Add the blueberries . . .

. . . and the thyme leaves, too. I love pictures of things falling into pots.

Cook this little concotion for a couple minutes longer.

Add the roast back into the pot, submerging it in the sauce. Add in all the veggies as well.

Stir them around to envelope them in the sauce.

Now cover the pot, and put it in the oven for 3-4 hours. I cooked my 3 lb roast for at least 4 hours and it was perfect. I’ve heard that you should do about an hour per pound of meat . . . is that right, Oh Experienced Cooks? (Mom?)

Those of you who read about my arm roast dilemma know that at this point, a second roast was also going into the oven:

Oh, the terrible and wonderful bounty.

But let’s get back to the dish that has brought us all together here today. Here’s what it looks like when it first comes out:

Your job is to stick a fork in there, pull the meat to the surface, and see if it’s done. You can do that by pulling it gently apart with two forks. If it comes apart easily, it’s dinner time, baby.

If not, slap her back into the oven for another hour while shouting “Now don’t you come back out until you’re done, you hear me?” That usually puts some sense into that pot roast. Plus it shows it who’s boss around here. Once it’s done, you can remove the meat to a platter for easy serving (the pieces of fat usually detach themselves and are easy to spot, fish out, and throw away). Just make sure to pour plentiful juice all over the meat as you serve it.

The onions are TO DIE FOR. Seriously, these onions need to be on the forefront of your thoughts as you walk away from this post.

The meat is so tender that there is no need for a knife at all. 

Serve over rice, noodles, or potatoes. Please forgive me for the slight blurriness in the below pictures. And please–don’t punish the roast for my personal and photographic failures! Make the roast! Love the roast!

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Skillet Chicken in a Thyme Red Wine Sauce

This is a savory, incredible-tasting dish with a wine-based sauce that I could drink, folks. It happened spontaneously one night as I envisioned what I could do with some chicken, a jar of artichoke hearts, and some fresh thyme. Clearly garlic, wine, and heavy cream were going to figure in–and mushrooms as well. As all of my favorite ingredients converged, the heavens rejoiced and the stars broke into celestial song. That’s how good it was.

With the exception of the rice I served it with, this is all made in one skillet (minimal dishes), and has all the comforts but none of the complications of a good coq au vin. Suffice it to say that this is the perfect fall meal. With no further ado, let’s get a-cookin’.

Ingredients

(Serves 3)

3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts

1 TBS butter

3 TBS olive oil

1/4 c flour

Salt and pepper

1 large onion

6 cloves garlic

6 oz mushrooms, sliced thickly

12 oz artichoke hearts from a can or jar, drained

25-30 sprigs fresh thyme, divided

1 1/2 c red wine (I used a cabernet merlot)

2 tsp chicken bouillon powder

1 c heavy whipping cream

Please try to ignore the wedge of parmesan in that picture. I quickly ordered it back to its niche in the fridge, while chastising it firmly. “You little attention-getter!” I said, wagging my finger vigorously, “You’d better stay out of my garlic cream sauce!”

Now let’s get the prep done. Thickly slice the mushrooms, mince the garlic, and chop up the onion. I didn’t photograph these steps because I was s’darn hungry! So just pretend I did and let’s keep going. Reserve about 10 sprigs of thyme, but take the leaves off the rest and discard the stems. To easily take the leaves off of the stem, hold it vertically between two fingers (right side up) while pinching the stem between the thumb and index of your opposite hand. Then, starting at the top, simply run your thumb and index downwards. OK, that sounds super confusing. But that’s why we have photography:

The leaves will come right off!

I use meaty mushrooms for this instead of the more common white button mushrooms. The thick slices of good and hearty mushroom were one of my favorite parts of the final dish. They make life worth living.

I mean, can you think of a single recipe I’ve posted here that doesn’t have mushrooms in it? OK, the Chess Pie, you have a point–but seriously: Penne Rosa. Mushroom Sage Pasta. Garlicky Stuffed Portobellos. The Balsamic Pot Roast I’ll be posting about in another week or so. Mushrooms are an essential part of my daily well-being.

But let’s get back to business before I break into a song that starts “Mushrooms are my reason/can’t do without them any season/I must eat them every day/or my joy will fade away.”

Pat the chicken dry with a paper towel. It’s important that the chicken be as dry as possible when it hits the pan, because that will allow it to get a nice brown sizzly sear instead of steaming in its own liquid. Sprinkle the pieces liberally on both sides with salt and pepper . . .

. . . then dredge them through the flour and shake off the excess.

Note: the flour coating will cause the pieces of chicken to absorb some of the red wine sauce later on, which results in the underside of the chicken turning a little purple/red. If that seems unappetizing to you, skip the flour coating and just pan-fry the seasoned chicken directly in the butter and oil.

Heat the butter and olive oil over medium high in a large and deep skillet. When the pan is hot, add the chicken.

Cook about 3 minutes per side, until nicely seared.

Remove the chicken and set it aside. It’s still very raw, but don’t worry, we’ll come back to it. Add more oil to the pan if needed, give it a minute or so to heat, toss in the onion and garlic, and fry for 3-4 minutes.

Add the mushrooms . . .

. . . and continue to cook until they start to brown. This should take about 5 minutes. Now, add the thyme leaves and artichoke hearts.

Cook for 3 more minutes, stirring occasionally.

Pour in the red wine.

Just try not to be like me and splatter the whole surrounding area. It was a bloodbath, folks.

Bring it to a boil and let it cook for 2 minutes. Stir in the bouillon powder. Look at that magic in the making . . .

Place the chicken on top of the veggies and sauce . . .

. . . and top each breast with 2 or so sprigs of thyme. I should probably point out at this juncture that I said this recipe “Serves 3” above. That’s because there are 3 chicken breasts involved, and the principles of Mathematics seemed to call for this equanimity. However, in our house it turned out to be more like 4.5 servings because frankly, there’s no way I can consume an entire chicken breast when my fork keeps returning to the piles of white rice slathered in sauce. Know thyself, and thou shalt know how many servings this would be in your household.

Cover the skillet and turn the heat down to low.

Cook for 12-15 minutes. I cooked mine for closer to 20, and the chicken was starting to get a little dry. Moist, perfectly cooked chicken is a heavenly experience, so let this be a warning to you–don’t overcook it like I did! Take the breasts out after 15 minutes max and test for doneness. When the chicken is just cooked through, uncover the skillet and set the chicken aside. Create an aluminum foil tent to keep it warm and ready. Now add the cup of heavy cream to the sauce . . .

Simmer the sauce and veggies until slightly thickened, about 5 minutes. Taste and reseason.

Serve the chicken over pasta, potatoes or rice, with the veggies and sauce poured over top. Garnish with some more sprigs of thyme.

Here’s the piece of chicken prior to the sauce being poured over in a torrent of amazingness. . .

. . . and here it is after.

Let’s take the mandatory bite . . .

OK, not enough meat in that bite. Let’s take another.

Let’s also visit my husband’s plate. Here it is as he pours on the sauce . . .

. . . and then adds the chicken.

Guys, I love the chicken–but what I live for is that sauce. I can’t wait to make this again.

In fact, if you’re a vegetarian (though if you are it’s unlikely you will have made it this far into the post) just cut out the chicken and make the sauce. That alone is the perfect meal.

Click here for printer-friendly version: Skillet Chicken in a Thyme Red Wine Sauce