Jewish mama street cred

You can’t really be a Jewish mama if you can’t cook. At least not a bona fide, in-dangerof-getting-flabby-arms-and-a-more-than-ample-bosom Jewish mama. And this week, I think I earned my street cred. It came in the form of Brisket. You see, I have the mostly unpleasant childhood memories of eating brisket in a sort of sweet BBQ sauce, generally served from disposable foil oven dishes (why?) at large family gatherings where I was likely to be found hiding behind the sofa because I was wimpy and my cousins were like a Jewish biker gang on pixie sticks. I think that’s another story. But, I’ve always upheld brisket as the pinnacle of the Jewish family dish. And tongue. But that’s also another story.

I settled on an adaptation of a recipe I found on recipes.com and decided to take out a couple of the steps to make it my own. Firstly, I didn’t marinade the brisket for the suggested 2 hours. I really don’t like an over marinaded meat, plus my dad came for tea and I lost track of time. A little red wine (grabbed something leftover and Spanish in the fridge), a little balsamic vinegar, a healthy dollop of minced garlic, dried thyme and rosemary, beef broth and a tin of organic diced tomatoes. Placed the lightly salted brisket on a bed of onion rings, and threw the concoction on top. All told I think I cooked in for around 4.5 hours at 300 and I have to say, it was close to perfection. I didn’t add veggies at the 3 hour mark because my kids aren’t fans of cooked veggies, but I did save the onion and tomato in the pan, which made an excellent sauce for the orzo I made as a side, along with some simply steamed veggies. Best part? Kids loved it. Ess mein kind. Ess!

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About baciamille

I'm Alexia, Alex, Lexi or Lex, depending on who you are. I'm mom to Mia, Maxim and Milan, wife to Darian, the co-creator and CEO known as Fancy Pants at Vuka Energy Drinks. I'm a marathon running, triathlete, musician and writer, wanna be rock star, all time actress, creative, vocal and sometimes just a little crahayzy. I think that's all. One day I plan to spend most of my time on a boat in the Carribean. Oh, and baciamille means a thousand kisses in Italian. I don’t know any other words in Italian.
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