August 18, Sometime in the Afternoon,
An icy wind has swept through the summer air, instilling a deep chill that lingers even as the gusts subside. Such an abrupt shift in warmth leaves one with an insistent yearning, a profound desire for comfort and nourishment. In the midst of this cold embrace, my thoughts drift towards the soothing allure of a warm stew simmering in the kitchen - an indulgence that promises solace on this somber day.
As I prepare, I find myself reflecting on the large cooking pot, sitting on the stove, its character revealed through the wear of endless use during the snow-laden winters. This well-worn cast iron vessel, seasoned by time and care, holds a special place in our home. The recipe I am about to undertake is no secret, but rather a familiar and cherished part of our culinary tradition. I am writing it here, lest in time I forget.
The ingredients are such as follows:
(if you abstain from the consumption of meat, a ground "meat" substitute and smoked paprika are a welcome replacement for beef and bacon.)
An equal ratio of dice beef and potatoes,
1/4 that amount in mushrooms,
2 slices of bacon, diced
Give or take a handful of onion slices,
4-6 juniper berries ,
1 sprig of rosemary and thyme,
A hearty dash of cream,
Geitost (Norwegian brown cheese),
Lingonberries, fresh, frozen, or preserved,
Butter.
In the cast iron pot, add the mushrooms and the slices of onions, letting them warm in the muted embrace of a low flame. Once the aroma begins to rise, reminiscent of whispers from a distant past, increase the heat, enough to cook the bacon and sear the meat, seasoned with salt, pepper, and crushed juniper berries. Next, introduce the diced potatoes, pouring enough water or stock to merely shroud them. Add then, a lone sprig of rosemary and thyme and bring to a boil. Seal with the lid allowing it to brew gently with only a mere whisper of heat beneath.
Second Entry, Sometime later,
The house seems warmer now, filled with a coziness that was much needed. A fragrant steam rises around the edges of the pot, and I feel that three-quarters of an hour spent simmering must have been sufficient.
The liquid, not yet thickened to a consistency befitting the name of stew, calls now for the addition of cream, geitost, and as many berries as your taste might fancy. I must admit that in these, I often overindulge, drawn by their depth and flavor.
I will keep the pot warm until supper, relishing in the warm coziness of its scent on this cold day.