{"id":1706,"date":"2005-11-11T22:19:00","date_gmt":"2005-11-11T22:19:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2005\/11\/11\/in-praise-of-braising"},"modified":"2015-09-24T03:54:13","modified_gmt":"2015-09-24T03:54:13","slug":"in-praise-of-braising","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2005\/11\/in-praise-of-braising\/","title":{"rendered":"In praise of braising"},"content":{"rendered":"
I\u2019m not one for favorites. I have no favorite movie, no favorite color, no favorite number, no favorite song. Declaring something a favorite seems to freeze it unfavorably in time, mark it with an expiration date, foist it up onto a pedestal from which it will inevitably tumble when the next favorite comes along. Instead, I like to think of myself as more of an equal-opportunity appreciator. I have my preferences and my pets, certainly, but they are fluid, mutable, and therefore, I like to think, more fitting to the human condition.<\/p>\n
But, dear reader, I must make a shameful confession: come cold weather, I have a nasty bias toward braising<\/strong>. And though I hate myself a little for saying so, I\u2019m starting to think this is a favorite cooking method in the making. I love<\/span> to braise<\/a>. There are few things\u2014vegetable, animal, or otherwise\u2014that don\u2019t stand to benefit from a slow, barely simmering soak<\/strong> in some sort of aromatic liquid, myself included. When I was fifteen, I wrote an urgent, breathless poem about wanting to immerse myself in a vat of marshmallow creme<\/a>, but today, I\u2019d much rather a warm pool of gently rumbling broth, or wine, or both, preferably with an eye pillow. And short of that, I\u2019ll settle for a plate of braised fennel<\/strong>, a seasonal favorite of my kitchen if ever there were one.<\/p>\n