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Homestyle Egg Noodles — The Pot Roast Waiting When You Come In From the Cold

March. The month that contains March 8th and the particular weight of that date. This is the third time I've come to this month since Sangin and it doesn't get lighter. The body knows. The sleep patterns shift, the dreams come more often, the peripheral alertness that the TBI gave me as a permanent feature becomes more acute. I notice the triggers more in March.

I drove to the cottonwood tree on Wednesday — two days early — because I needed to, not because Thursday was wrong. The river was running high with snowmelt, brown and fast, the way it is every March when the Beartooths are shedding their snowpack. I sat on my log for an hour and talked to Derek. Told him the year. Told him about Sarah and how it ended and why. Told him the farrier business has nine accounts and that the elk chili recipe is now fixed and that the blog has a few people who read it when things are bad and that's what it's for. Told him I was going to come to Kansas. Not yet. But soon.

I didn't drink. I never drink on March 8th anymore. The intention of the sobriety became especially clear around March 8th — that the sobriety is partly for Derek, a way of saying: I'm going to do this correctly, on your behalf and mine. I'm going to stay alive and I'm going to do it without the thing that almost killed me.

I made pot roast when I got home. Mom had it waiting when I came through the door. She does this every March 8th now — the pot roast ready when I come in. She doesn't say why. She doesn't need to. Pot roast when you come in from the cold and the grief. That's what it's for.

Mom makes the pot roast, but the noodles are the part I’ve started making myself — the part I can control, the part that keeps my hands busy when I come in from the cottonwood tree and the river and the hour of talking to Derek and I’m not ready to just sit. These homestyle egg noodles go underneath the roast, soaking up the braising liquid, thick and soft and exactly what I needed on March 8th. That’s the whole reason for them.

Homestyle Egg Noodles

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon baking powder
  • 3 large egg yolks
  • 1 large whole egg
  • 1/3 cup whole milk
  • 1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened
  • 6 cups beef broth or pot roast braising liquid, for cooking

Instructions

  1. Make the dough. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, salt, and baking powder. Make a well in the center and add egg yolks, whole egg, milk, and softened butter. Mix with a fork until a shaggy dough forms, then turn out onto a floured surface and knead 3–4 minutes until smooth. Cover with a clean towel and rest 10 minutes.
  2. Roll and cut. Divide dough in half. On a well-floured surface, roll each half to about 1/8-inch thickness. Dust lightly with flour, then roll the dough loosely into a log and cut crosswise into 1/4-inch strips. Unroll and separate the noodles, tossing gently with a little flour to prevent sticking. Let air-dry on the counter for 10 minutes.
  3. Cook the noodles. Bring beef broth or pot roast braising liquid to a rolling boil in a large pot over medium-high heat. Drop noodles in small handfuls, stirring to separate. Cook 10–12 minutes until tender but not mushy, adjusting heat to maintain a steady boil.
  4. Serve. Use a slotted spoon to transfer noodles to bowls or a serving dish. Ladle braising liquid and pot roast over the top, or serve alongside. Taste and season with salt and black pepper as needed.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 480mg

Ryan Gallagher
About the cook who shared this
Ryan Gallagher
Week 154 of Ryan’s 30-year story · Billings, Montana
Ryan is a thirty-one-year-old Army veteran and ranch hand in Billings, Montana, who cooks over open fire because microwaves feel dishonest and because the quiet of a campfire is the only therapy that works for him consistently. He hunts his own elk, catches his own trout, and makes a camp stew that tastes like the mountains smell. He doesn't talk much. But his food says everything.

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