Axial Tilt: Stew for the Other Side

 Axial tilt, at the moment, is in the northern-hemisphere’s favor—depending on what seasons you prefer. I am a warm weather favorer, so I am rejoicing in the impending summer weather. My friend, @riverflows, is embracing her autumn. I will enjoy it too, when it comes again in September. While I am inhaling springtime’s plum blossoms and frolicking in the sand at the beach, she is in the throes of the cold season illnesses and has requested soup recipes, preferably with an accompanying story. (Check out @riverflows post and competition here.) I read a lot of Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul as a kid, and I cried a lot while reading it. This isn’t one of those kinds of stories.My mom gave me her recipe for Autumn Stew a few years back. Since then I’ve used it for our autumn equinox and winter solstice feasts that I host. This stew looks dark, deep, and earthy, with its tones of brown and orange. The rich tones of the stew set off the gold rim of my china that I drag out for autumn and winter celebrations. With my table decked out in nature’s bounty, I felt like a queen lavishing guests in my medieval castle. But this isn’t one of those kinds of stories either. This is a stew-thrown-into-a-scratched-and-stained-pot kind of story. It is a story about the last time I made this stew.

 My in-laws are a bit eccentric. I don’t mean that in a condescending way. It is a simple fact: their family definitely functions differently than 95 percent of American families. Whether this is bad or good is open for debate. For example, they have an annual family get-together in January to celebrate Christmas. I think they have also done it in February a few times. This means that lots of presents for children are shuffled into my house in Christmas wrapping, approximately a month after I have been quite glad to put away all Christmas decorations. (Once Christmas is over, its remains are stale to me, but renew themselves one month prior to Christmas the following year.) With the presents, come lots of humans.The first batch almost always arrive around midnight, not unlike Santa Claus himself, but through the front door and with an air of confused excitement. We are here! Let’s party! But it is also midnight! The matriarch of this group of several children is a very busy career woman who drives hours after work to get the children to this event. It is a testament of her devotion to the family cause. She is always a mixture of friendliness—Hello, how are you? Look at this!—and an exhausted seeker of order—Where is your sleeping bag? Does everyone have a toothbrush?—until all the little humans have been sorted into their sleeping place and a hush falls over the house around 1AM. A muffled sort of hush. The sort of hush where lots of little kids are whispering, and will continue to do so well into the night.Then morning comes. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, and 5000 dirty dishes. I don’t mind the dirty dishes, they keep me busy, allowing for a comfortable bit of separation. I like to watch from a distance. More humans arrive, with more little humans. There is a whole gang of little people by then. I started to peel the butternut squash for the stew as I watched the mass of people separate into two groups. The adults were all reclining on the porch, and the children were all scampering off together with a distinct look of mischief in their eyes. The adults’ conversation rapidly transitioned from common pleasantries to more involved subjects. One of them got emotional and I didn’t know why, and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know why. I dropped the bacon into the hot pan and listened to the sizzle while catching a glance of the children chasing chickens. I felt a tad guilty about the fear the chickens would be experiencing all afternoon, but just a tad. After all, those birds do spend the bulk of their free time trying to figure out how to poop on my porch.Next, I tossed in the beef. As it was browning I started in on the preparations for the second supper I was making—the one for the vegetarians. Some of the kids ran in and asked for permission to use some random items found on my sewing desk. Sure, yeah, whatever. The chickens had either all been chased into the woods, or retreated into the coop. The kids had moved on to decorating the tree house with ribbon, string, and various toys that belonged inside. I shrugged, and added to the stew pot a heaping bowl of beautiful chopped vegetables. One expects chaos in these circumstances. One also expects fights to break out at any moment.“You didn’t have to do that! That’s disgusting!” A ten year old vegetarian girl pointed a finger at an eleven year old non-vegetarian boy. “He killed a spider for no reason!”“It was in the way,” he said, looking a little defensive, but genuinely confused as to why anyone would defend a spider.“Spiders can bite,” chimed in a nature-fearing, bug squashing, very much non-vegetarian adult.“It was on the side of the tree house! It wasn’t bothering us, it was just sitting in its web!” The vegetarian girl said, staring on with disgust.“It didn’t need to be on the tree house,” said the boy.“Spiders have feelings too!” Shouted the girl.“Yes, everything has feelings,” nodded an adult deeply invested in making sure everyone’s opinion counts, “But also sometimes bugs…” The words sounded monotone to me and they faded into the distance. The vegetarian girl’s passion had inflamed me a little bit. I threw my voice in.“Next time, why don’t you just take a stick, get the spider on it, and then throw it in the woods so he can make a new home there?”I’m not sure anyone absorbed that, because an intense debate about the morality issues surrounding meat consumption had taken over. I returned to stir the stew, feeling pretty sure I had dodged a bullet. I’m just the cook. I like being just the cook. 

 Then came the mid-afternoon version of Christmas morning. The kids were brought in and settled on the couches and floor of the living room, filling the space in rows of taller and shorter, like the rows of an amphitheater. The adults argued about the best present opening procedure—Should the presents be passed out from one family at a time, or opened by age? Should it be oldest to youngest, or youngest to oldest? And should there be an obligatory applause after every present is opened?I let them battle it out, while I got ready to collect a year’s worth of multicolored bonfire starter.After all the applause and wrapping paper collection, the stew was ready. I had a small bowl before the crowd settled, and then stepped outside to get a little bit of silence. I came back in thirty minutes later, and the contents of the pot were decimated. My mom’s autumn stew continued to be a success, post autumn.For the next six months I will be eating corn chowder and minestrone, but for any folks that might be in the southern hemisphere, here is Autumn Stew:¼ cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon cracked black pepper
2 pounds of stew meat, cut into 1 ½ inch chunks
2 strips bacon, cut crosswise into ¼ inch strips
Coconut oil
2 medium onions, cut into ½ inch wedges
4 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
2 tablespoons tomato paste
5 cups chicken broth
2 cups beef broth
1 ½ cups of dry red wine
3 bay leaves
1 tablespoon snipped fresh thyme
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1 pound butternut squash, peeled and cut into chunks
4 carrots, cut into chunks
2 stalks of celery, sliced ½ inch
¼ chopped fresh Italian parsleyIn a large plastic bag, combine flour, salt and pepper. Add beef, shake to coat evenly. In a large heavy pot, cook and stir bacon over medium heat until crisp. Transfer to paper towels with a slotted spoon, drippings to equal 2 tablespoons. Add half the beef to pot, shaking off any excess flour. Cook, stirring occasionally, until browned. Remove beef with a slotted spoon. Repeat with remaining beef.If pot is dry, add 1 tablespoon of oil. Add onions; cook and stir for about 4 minutes or until starting to brown. Stir in garlic, cook for 1 minute. Stir in tomato paste. Return beef, bacon and any remaining flour to pot. Stir to combine. Add chicken and beef broth, wine, bay leaves, thyme and paprika. Bring to a boil, reduce heat. Simmer, covered, for 1 ½ hours or until meat is tender, stirring occasionally.Add potatoes, squash, carrots and celery. Return to boiling, reduce heat. Simmer covered, for 15 minutes. Remove lid and simmer about 15 minutes more or until vegetables are tender and liquid is desired consistency. Remove bay leaves. Stir in parsley.The day after all the guests left, I found a sweet picture drawn for me in crayon. It was signed by the vegetarian girl and said: “Thank you. I had a great time, until someone killed a spider.” I’m saving it for posterity.