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 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!

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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