Blog regarding braise technique
Method for Braise
Daniel Martinez
The braise, as it is known, should be symphony, and nothing less. It is a cooking technique which
exemplifies one’s ability to achieve balance and multiple layers of flavor. In music we might call it a
soundscape. I suppose that in food we could call it a mouthscape, but that certainly doesn’t sound
very appealing….Still, the idea is this: The braised dish should be amongst the most succulent,
tender, and unctuous in the chef’s repertoire. It should be an example of his or her ability to achieve
balance, but also an example of how we, as chefs, are tasked with the job not of turning the “best”
ingredients into the “best” food but, more often than not, turning the less-than-the-best ingredients
into something spectacular—even symphonious. It can be daunting, and requires a good number of
different skills to execute flawlessly. But at its base, braising is a fairly straightforward technique
generally used when preparing larger (and therefore tougher) cuts of meat, which are taken from the
parts of the animal which in life it tended to use more than others: So, anything from the leg,
including the shanks, the shoulders, the rumps, et cetera and so on.
The first step is to assess the meat. If it needs to be trussed (tied) so as to be uniform of
shape, then so do it. If it needs to be broken down into smaller pieces, go ahead; I’ll wait….If not
(or once you’re done), proceed next to dredge the meat in seasoned flour. In a smaller setting such as
a home kitchen, this will then be placed into a fairly hot pan with a bit of oil, and allowed to sear on
each side. On a more industrial scale, as in a professional kitchen, the meat can be lightly coated with
oil after being dredged in the seasoned flour; then set it on a sheet pan or baking tray and place in
the oven, which ought to be decently hot, at around 425-450. Roast the meat like so for about 20-25
minutes, so as to attain rather a deep sear on all sides.
Rule of Thumb
There should be neither too much seasoned starch nor too much oil, as the starch will
form into a sort of coating like a chicken fried steak and the oil will pool and sizzle with
dripping moisture from the meat itself.
Other Rule of Thumb
There should never be so much meat on the pan as to disallow for adequate airflow. It is
absolutely essential that all parts of the meat should be exposed, in order to roast evenly
(at least 1 inch between each piece is recommended).
Now, at this point the meat will be very tough, with regard to eating. To the touch it will feel fairly
springy but also somewhat like one’s own bicep. It may still be alternately described as “squishy”, or
“spongey”. That’s because it is not yet done! At this point in the process, the meat has been seared
in order to add greater depth of flavor to the final sauce. Without the sear, we would have a much
lighter broth and resultant sauce. Think of the difference between a steak that has been charred or
nicely seared, versus a steak that has been boiled (although why we would ever want to boil a steak, I
have no idea!).
So what do we do with this hunka-chunka meat? We pour a little wine onto that sheet tray
so as to loosen the bits that have stuck to it. If searing in a pan or skillet, we remove the meat from
the pan and add the wine directly thereinto. That to which the liquid is added, the little bits and
pieces, is called the fond, or foundation. The act of adding this liquid so as to loosen those bits and
pieces, is called deglazing. The resultant liquid is called jus. We will add this to the braising liquor.
….Meanwhile, as the meat was roasting we should certainly have been preparing the braise
itself. This consists of aromatics, bouquet garnis, wine, and stock or broth.
Aromatics are the various vegetables used as the base of a dish or sauce: For example, onions
and garlic (as in the Spanish soffrito); onions, bell pepper, and celery (as in the New Orleans/Southern
“Holy Trinity”); onions, celery, and carrot (as in the French mirepoix).
Bouquet garnis refers to the various herbs and spices which have commonly been found to
work well with each other, to work well with the fairly common aromatics, and to compliment and
balance the various proteins we, as humans, tend to consume. Bouquet garnis is traditionally
composed of fresh thyme and parsley, along with bay leaf, whole black peppercorns, and whole
clove. It is also traditionally tied up in a little package called a satchet, which being so isolated makes it
easier to remove later.
….Which means what to us, and how does it relate to the price of tea in China?
Well, it doesn’t really relate to the tea in China. To be sure, none of this does….But if the
first step is to truss and/or dredge the meat and then sear it, then in the process of braising the
second step is to prepare the aromatics while the meat is being seared or roasted. So: Peel the carrots and
save the peels in one bowl, and dice the remainder and set aside in another bowl. Then, take the
celery and cut off the tops and bottoms. Set these “trimmings” in the same bowl as has the carrot
peels, and then dice the celery and add it to the same bowl which has the diced carrot. Finally, cut
off the tops and bottoms of the onion, and remove the outer layer of skin. Put all of these trimmings
in the same bowl as has the carrot and celery scraps, and then dice the onion and add it to the other
bowl which has the diced celery and carrot.
Rule Bender
….Set aside the bowl with the diced
vegetables (which is called mirepois); we’ll come
back to it. For now, take all that scrap in the
other bowl and place it in the bottom of the
It is not necessary to tie the bouquet in a satchet
when preparing a braised dish: For one, all that
flavor, in braised dishes, tends to stay in one
spot. It’s one thing to use a satchet for a soup,
where the liquid(s) is(are) in motion and regular
stirring enables one to move around that little
roasting pan you’ll be using to actually braise
flavor packet, but it’s quite another when
the meat. Give it a little stirry-stir just to
considering a braise wherein much less stirring
distribute evenly; then, add to this the bouquet
is necessary. For another, tying the satchet c an
garnis.
be tedious and annoying, and time consuming;
and finally, what we are going to be doing with
this dish halfway through the cooking process,
also eliminates the necessity of the satchet.
By this time the meat should be roasted. Or seared, or Maillard reactioned, or caramelized;—browned,
in any case…And the pan should have been deglazed. At this point, place the meat on top of the bed
of mirepoix/bouquet garnis….To this, add enough red or white wine (depending on the meat being
braised) to cover the bottom half inch or so of the meat. Also, add all that jus resultant from the
deglazing process.
Rule of Thumb
If there is less meat in the pan, and more space, go closer to covering to the half-inch
mark. If there is more meat in the pan, and less space, go closer to an inch.
Other Rule of Thumb
There should never be so little or so much meat in the roasting pan that it is either
crowded or lonely.
Other Other Rule of Thumb
(and this one is particularly important)
With the wine, regardless of color, must be mixed some kind of tomato product, usually
tomato paste but also roasted fresh tomato, sundried tomato, or chopped fresh tomato.
Mixing with the wine helps to distribute the tomato paste throughout the whole of the
braising liquor (if using tomato paste at all), rather than being a lump on the side of the
pan, kinda like the satchet would be if we were to use it. If using fresh or other tomato,
distribute evenly as done with the other aromatics. Why so important? Because there is a
particular reaction that tomato has with wine, which together interact with the proteins in
meat, to produce a particular profile and depth of flavor which, quite simply, cannot be
otherwise achieved.
Now, at this point we can go ahead and add the stock or broth. One should never use water, as it is
completely flavorless and will leach flavor out of the meat more than it will add anything. Chicken
stock, or veal stock, or beef or pork stock—“rule of thumb” is that it should be a stock made of the
same animal which is being braised. As a guide, consider: Brown or darker stocks for red or darker
meats, “white” or lighter stocks for white or lighter meats. Pork can fall into sort of an iffy category,
depending on which part of the pig you’re preparing, or personal preference: Is pork, to you, a
land-based animal akin to beef and lamb, or do you see it as the other white meat? Or, more likely,
do you have red wine or white available for tonight’s meal?
Anyway either way and in any case: Chicken stock is usually a fairly neutral choice for any
kind of braised dish, regardless of whether it is beef, or pork, or goat, or lamb, or elk, or whatever.
And, anywise elsewise and in everywise, we’ve now got a roasting pan with: Aromatics;
Mirepois trimmings; wine; stock; and seared meat. N
ow, we must cover it with plastic wrap or parchment
paper, and then cover it again with aluminum foil. Then we’ll place it in a “moderate” oven (300-325
degrees Fahrenheit) for two to two and a half hours.
Now, you can go back to whatever you were doing before: Jumping jacks, brewing beer,
writing comedy skits; whatever you were doing. Or you could clean up your mess. Either way,
you’ve got a bit more than two hours to kill so just go with it. At the end of the two hours, we will
remove the braise from the oven.
…
…
…
….And there goes the timer!
All right, take it out of the oven.
Very carefully uncover: Watch out for that puff of steam!
Now, remove all the meat from the pan, and set it aside on a sheet pan. Then, take the
roasting pan with all that liquid and those vegetable trimmings in there, and pour all the contents
through a strainer into another roasting pan (or into a bucket or some such vessel, and then return
the strained liquor to the same roasting pan).
Remember the diced mirepois we set aside earlier? Go ahead and grab that and add it to the
pan. Yup, strain out the solids just to add more solids to it; but these veggies will stay in. They are an
important part of the final sauce, texturally as well as aesthetically.
….So now we’ve got the trimmings strained out, and the diced mirepois has been added.
Return the meat to the pan, and cover it again with the plastic wrap or parchment paper and the
aluminum foil, and then return it to the same moderate oven for another one and a half to three
hours.
Yes!
Ninety to one hundred eighty more minutes. Sometimes it really does take that long for the
dish to be done...But let us backtrack a little: Did you notice just now, how the meat was definitely
fully cooked when you took it out of the oven, as you were setting it on the sheet pan? You notice
how it’s kinda squishy still but it’s definitely a hunk of meat, all swole-up and seemingly ready to sort
of pop? At this point in the braise, the meat has cooked (and no, I’m not going for the Captain
Obvious Award). But what happens when you cook meat?...It tends to shrink. Why? Because of that
connective tissue we were talking about earlier. These are muscles. They are parts of the machines
that are animals when they were alive. The connective tissues pull tight when you cook the meat
because they are losing moisture. Think of how leather shrinks after it gets wet; or, in an extreme
example, there’s actually a classic dish which is prepared using a live fish. It must be alive when it is
added to the boiling water, because it naturally tenses and then stays in a curved shape—almost like
it’s trying to reach for a bite of its own tail. It is then presented and eaten that way.
But of course this, for our braise, is not what we want. We want tender and succulent. We
want unctuous. We want depth of flavor, and layers of flavors. Sooooo, we throw it back in the oven
with that diced mirepois a nd a new batch of bouquet garnis. We throw it in for one and a half to three
hours, because over that period of time, at that lower temperature, the connective tissues begin to
break down. They start to relax. They start to become edible. They start to lend that unctuousness,
that suppleness, that succulence.
How do you know it’s done? Well, when you touch the meat between forefinger and thumb,
give it a bit of a squeeze. It should yield without much resistance, and you should be able to pull the
meat away from itself. If you have to try, it’s not done.
Rule of Thumb
If it’s not done after an hour and a half, throw it back in for another hour. If it’s not done
after that, keep throwing it for roundabout forty-five to sixty minutes at a time after that.
Other Rule of Thumb
A braised dish takes at least three and a half hours in the oven, and sometimes can take
up to five hours, depending on the size of the meat, and from which animal came the
meat being so prepared. That said, a properly braised dish can take a good six to eight
hours total, from start to finish.
Can you overcook a braised dish? Yes, actually. Very often meat is described as “falling off the
bone”. Technically speaking, this is not ideal. Imagine trying to eat ribs that are falling off the bone.
You go to pick them up and bring them to your mouth, but all of a sudden there’s a little plop on
your plate, barbecue splatter on your shirt or blouse, and nothing but the bone in front of your face.
No no no: What is most desirable, is that the meat should pull cleanly away from the bone. It should be
tender and luscious and the individual should be able to eat it with ease; but it should still retain just
enough of that connective tissue, that it stays on the bone when you go to bring it to your mouth.
Once it’s tender, is it all done? For the most part, but there is one final step: Finishing the
sauce.
After the three to five hours the braise has been in the oven, the meat is now tender and
scrumptious and awesome. As before, remove the meat from the pan and set aside on a sheet pan.
At this point it may be refrigerated and then portioned or otherwise stored or served, as needed; but
first, the sauce.
The sauce should be a little bit thicker than the original liquid we added to the dish at the
beginning. This is because of the flour, which acts as a binding agent. When the individual starch
particles are introduced to the heat they first absorb the surrounding moisture and, in so doing, then
swell up and, at a certain temperature, gelatinize. This helps to keep the fat from separating from the
liquid, and also lends to a more desirable final mouthfeel. However and in spite of that flour, the
sauce is probably not going to be thick enough at this point; it takes a certain amount of flour to
thicken a certain amount of liquid. So what do we do? Take the braising liquor and pour it out of the
roasting pan, into a pot. Put the pot over a low flame and pull it to the corner of the flame so it will
simmer slowly. Allow the sauce to reduce to the appropriate consistency, which should be what is
known as nappe, where the sauce can lightly coat the back of a spoon without running.
Rule of Thumb
There should be enough sauce for all the meat. There should not be not enough sauce
for all the meat. It is more likely that you’ll have more, than that you’ll have less, but
sometimes people try to overcrowd the pan and the resultant quantity of liquid/sauce is
quite dismal compared to how much meat was prepared.
Aside from all the techniques we’ve now utilized in preparing this dish, this has been the most
important aspect all along: Balance. We don’t want to under-crowd the pan because then we’ll have
way too much liquid and not enough meat, and the sauce will take forever to reduce. We don’t want
to overcrowd the pan, because then we will not have enough sauce and, quite possibly, not enough
liquid overall (one should never have to add liquid to the braise, once it’s in motion). We don’t want
to use the diced vegetables from the get-go, because after five hours of cooking any kind of
vegetable it is going to be overdone and mushy. By utilizing the trimmings we add an initial layer of
flavor, which is then complemented by the later straining and addition of the diced/“fresh” mirepoix.
Without this crucial step the sauce tends to come across as flat—very one-note and unimpressive.
Braising is certainly one of the more advanced cooking techniques. Not necessarily for
execution, but because it involves multiples of cooking techniques, and because the resultant sauce
with which the so-prepared meat is generally meant to be served, is the final result of the various
ingredients used for the braising liquor itself—which necessitates the process being well-informed
and balanced at all stops along the way. In order to successfully execute a braised dish, one must
understand the importance of searing and deglazing; the difference between boiling, braising,
stewing and simmering; must also have an understanding of what role aromatic vegetables do, or
ought, to play in the kitchen, as well as the various common herbs and spices generally referred to as
bouquet garnis. One must understand how to dice, one must know or at least understand how starches
work to thicken and bind sauces; one must know how to find that balance that makes for symphony,
rather than that bleh recipe that makes for bleh.
And now that you know, how about giving it a shot?