Bavarian Pot Roast

Sukkot, and I built the sukkah alone. Not really alone — Janet held the poles while I attached the fabric walls, and Gloria brought the branches for the s'chach, the roof — but without David, without Marvin, without the family that usually assembles this temporary dwelling in the backyard with the chaotic competence of people who have done it annually for decades. The sukkah went up. It's crooked. The s'chach is unevenly distributed, which means some stars are visible and some are blocked, which is, if you think about it, an accurate representation of the current view from this particular temporary shelter: some light getting through, some blocked. You take the stars you can see.

I ate dinner in the sukkah on Tuesday — just me, at a small table, with a plate of stuffed cabbage and a glass of wine and the October sky above me through the gaps in the branches. Marvin could not come outside — the logistics of getting him through the back door and into a folding chair in the sukkah were beyond what the evening could support — so I ate alone, in the temporary dwelling, and I thought about fragility, which is the point of Sukkot, the whole point: everything is temporary, build it anyway, eat in it anyway, say the blessings anyway. The stuffed cabbage was Sylvia's. The wine was from the kosher grocery. The sky was clear. The sukkah was crooked. I was in it. That was enough.

Rebecca called during dinner. I was sitting in the sukkah with my phone propped against the wine glass, and she said, "Are you in the sukkah?" and I said, "Where else would I be?" and she said, "Mama, you built a sukkah by yourself during a pandemic," and I said, "Janet held the poles," and she said, "You are the most stubborn woman alive," and I said, "Thank you," because stubbornness is a compliment in the Rosen family, it is the primary family virtue, it is what carried Sylvia's mother out of the shtetl and Irving's parents out of Poland and Sylvia through pancreatic cancer and me through forty-one years of teaching. Stubbornness is our inheritance. I wear it well.

Sylvia’s stuffed cabbage was the meal that night, and it was right for that night — but the week that followed, the sukkah still up and crooked in the backyard and Marvin still inside and the holidays still moving through me like weather, I wanted something slower, something that demanded patience the way the season does. This Bavarian Pot Roast is the dish I turned to: braised low and long, sweetened slightly with apple and onion the way the old country cooked everything, built to sustain you through a long evening at a small table. It is not Sylvia’s recipe. But it comes from the same instinct — the one that says: make something real, sit down with it, let it be enough.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 3 hours | Total Time: 3 hours 20 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

3 to 3 1/2 lbs beef chuck roast
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 large yellow onion, sliced
2 medium carrots, cut into 1-inch pieces
2 stalks celery, sliced
1 large apple (such as Granny Smith), peeled, cored, and chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup beef broth
1/2 cup apple cider vinegar
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 teaspoon caraway seeds
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
2 bay leaves

Instructions

Preheat and season. Preheat your oven to 325°F. Pat the chuck roast dry with paper towels and season generously on all sides with kosher salt and black pepper.
Sear the roast. Heat vegetable oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the roast and sear without moving it for 4 to 5 minutes per side, until a deep brown crust forms. Transfer the roast to a plate and set aside.
Sauté the aromatics. Reduce heat to medium. Add the onion, carrots, and celery to the pot and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5 to 6 minutes until softened. Add the garlic and apple and cook 2 minutes more.
Build the braise liquid. Stir in the tomato paste, brown sugar, caraway seeds, thyme, and allspice. Pour in the beef broth and apple cider vinegar, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Nestle the bay leaves into the liquid.
Braise low and slow. Return the roast to the pot, settling it into the liquid. The liquid should come about halfway up the sides of the meat. Cover tightly and transfer to the preheated oven. Braise for 2 1/2 to 3 hours, until the meat is fork-tender and pulls apart easily.
Rest and serve. Remove the pot from the oven. Discard the bay leaves. Transfer the roast to a cutting board and let it rest for 10 minutes before slicing or shredding. Skim any excess fat from the braising liquid and season with salt to taste. Spoon the vegetables and sauce over the meat to serve.

Nutrition (per serving)

Bavarian Pot Roast — The Meal That Holds When Everything Else Shifts