Comfort Food Sunday

Only the most dedicated of local food patrons braved the weather yesterday to stop by the chilly tented Athens Own booth in search of creamy cheddar cheese, hot coffee, a bowl of piping thick oatmeal, or a pound of ground beef certain to be brewed into chili later that afternoon. Snow was swirling down in flittering drifts from the clouds, and being windswept in horizontal sheets across the barren, ice caked parking lot of the Market on State where four lonely vendors withstood the cold to deliver their precious goods to local Athens customers. Needless to say, in my knee high boots and intricately woven pink and purple Thai scarf, I was one of those frost-bitten customers.

As a point of appreciation, and also my desire to be an active member of the vibrant Athens food community, I am slowly but surely working my way to a first name basis with many of the market’s locally famous producers. While some people are excited to meet celebrities of musical or cinematic fame, I am excited to meet the farmers I see at the Athens Farmer’s Market every week, year in and year out. For a long time, it would never have crossed my mind to introduce myself to one of the weathered, smiling faces with which I would have weekly business interactions. In fact, I wouldn’t have introduced myself to anyone and no one introduced themselves to me. Confidence can do wonders for a personality. It is rare lately that someone would not smile or say hello to me, as I try to do the same. I notice more often than not that people look at me, smile, and give me kind expressions. Yesterday, this quality helped me meet Constantine.

When I found myself at the entrance to the igloo like structure Athens Own had constructed for their array of products, I also found myself peering into the back of the tent for a package of beef stew meat. It’s been “that time of year,” for quite awhile now, and I still haven’t made one of my favorite winter staples: Beef Stew. Yesterday was the perfect day to dream up a recipe, and gather the ingredients with bone-chilled knuckles clenched around delicate mushrooms, dirty potatoes and pungent onions. I crafted in my mind a loose idea for a locally rich stew, made in the style of Beef Bourguignon, but lighter and steeped in the root and soil flavors of Appalachia’s deep winter. This is where Constantine entered my life, because alas, there was no stew meat.

Constantine owns Athens Own, where I buy infamous Cheddar Cheese, and addictively good sweet beef bologna. With a graying mustache tickling the edges of his lips, and matching beard that followed the flow of his words, he introduced himself to me and then explained that stew meat isn’t his most popular cut, but that it was available at a local grocery store. Through round, metal rimmed sunglasses and the cloak of a hooded sweatshirt he took the time to tell me about the different producers he uses, as well as the difference in the grade of beef. He suggested I try to the more expensive, 14 week dry aged stew meat, even though many people say the flavor doesn’t matter for stew. Constantine had my number, because I, for one, certainly know that the flavor matters and that the quality of the beef will make the difference between any old stew and an epic stew. He was delightful and I look forward to seeing him again soon and continuing to become familiar with and embed myself in the Athens Food community.

So for Constantine, who told me to let him know how the stew came out, here is the recipe for my Midwinter Beef Stew, served up hot with homemade buckwheat-corn bread and chased with a slice of homemade apple pie.

Queen Honeybea’s
Midwinter Beef Stew
Serves 6
2 TBS. extra virgin olive oil
1 lb. locally raised, dry aged beef for stew (rinsed and patted dry)
Salt and black pepper
2 cups chopped local mushrooms
1 cup chopped local yellow onion
2 cloves chopped local garlic
2 TBS. dry red wine
4 cups organic, low-sodium beef stock
2 TBS. pale ale honey mustard (or any pungent mustard you like)
1 TBS. red wine vinegar
6 small local potatoes, peeled and chunked
2 organic carrots, peeled and sliced into ¼ inch chunks
1 cup local green beans, snapped into 1 inch pieces (Mine were frozen from August)
1 tsp. salt
½ tsp. black pepper
2 TBS. dried parsley
A pinch of ground thyme
A pinch of ground rosemary
A pinch of Hungarian paprika

1. In a coated Dutch Oven, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Sprinkle the rinsed, and dried pieces sparingly with salt and pepper. Sear each piece of meat on each side until lightly browned, turning to ensure all surfaces are cooked. Remove the meat to a paper towel lined bowl.
2. Add to the Dutch Oven the mushrooms and onions, stirring almost constantly to keep them from sticking to the pan. Sautee, stirring for five minutes, or until the mushrooms and onions begin to sweat. Add the garlic, stirring, for 20 more seconds. Add the red wine, scraping the bottom of the pan to get all the goodness up into the stew. Cook for another minute or two, or until the wine is reduced.
3. Add the rest of the ingredients in order, along with the reserved pieces of beef. Stir to incorporate and slowly bring the mixture up to a boil. Reduce the heat to very low, and cover partially. The stew should be slowly simmering. Stir occasionally and taste to adjust the seasoning as needed. Simmer slowly, covered for at least one hour and uncovered for at least one hour. Ideally, simmering covered for 2 hours and uncovered for one will yield a nicely flavored stew with a thick but not too thick broth. Serve piping hot with crusty bread.


This stew was absolute perfection. Not to toot my own horn, as if I’d ever dream of that, but it truly was a simple masterpiece if I do say so myself. The beef was incredibly tender and had such a decadently soft texture. I can’t thank Constantine enough for his recommendation. I also have to give credit to Roger Graves at Yankee Street Farm in Vinton, Ohio for the beautiful, dirt coated potatoes I bought from him at the market, which turned into little pieces of pearl colored velvet in my stew. I was surprised that when I reached the bottom of the bowl there were just potatoes left, as I was saving the best for last. I hope you make this stew and enjoy the same sort of hearty romance I did, as I sipped its silken broth and nuzzled into the corner of my couch on a cold winter’s night. Remember, of course, to always buy local.


My apple pie chaser. Mama pie and baby pie. My half-and-half crust, fresh local apples, organic sugar, cinnamon, freshly grated nutmeg, a hint of lemon zest and lots of patience and love. Pies are an art for me, I adore making them.