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Teriyaki Beef Stew — When the Table Gets a Little Wider

Travis and Jolene are planning a spring wedding. April 2019. They came over Saturday to tell us and to show Connie the venue options, which are apparently numerous and important and the subject of conversations that Travis endures with the patience of a man who doesn't care about centerpieces but cares about the woman who cares about centerpieces.

Connie is in wedding-planning mode, which means she's bought three magazines and has opinions about fonts. I am in wedding-paying mode, which means I'm reviewing my savings account and having opinions about budgets. Travis said "We're keeping it small." Jolene said "Under fifty people." I said "I can work with fifty." Connie said "That's not counting the photographer, the florist, the DJ, the officiant—" I said "I can work with fifty."

The wedding is good news. Good news in a year that has been heavy with worry and departure and the specific weight of Clay's absence. Travis getting married means the family is growing, filling in, adding a branch. When Clay left, the table lost a chair. When Jolene joins, the table gains one. The math doesn't balance — a sister-in-law is not a replacement for a deployed brother — but the table is wider now, and wider is better than narrower.

This week: beef stroganoff. Not Appalachian but not not-Appalachian either. Betty made a version of this in the 1980s when she got a cookbook from a church bazaar and decided to try "foreign food," which to Betty meant anything that required sour cream. Her version: sliced beef (she used cube steak because it was cheap), browned in butter, cooked with onion and mushrooms in beef broth thickened with flour, finished with sour cream. Served over egg noodles. It was rich and savory and slightly exotic by Evarts standards, and Betty made it about once a month and called it "that Russian thing."

I make it the same way. Slice a pound of sirloin thin. Brown in butter over high heat. Remove. Sauté sliced onions and mushrooms in the same butter. Add beef broth thickened with a tablespoon of flour. Simmer until the sauce coats a spoon. Add the beef back. Off heat, stir in sour cream (adding it on heat will curdle it). Season with salt, pepper, a touch of Worcestershire. Serve over wide egg noodles. The sour cream makes it tangy and rich and the noodles soak up the sauce and the whole thing is comfort food disguised as sophistication, which is Betty's specialty and mine.

A week like this one — good news finally arriving, the table feeling a little less empty than it has — calls for something warm and substantial, the kind of food you make because the occasion deserves it. Beef stroganoff is Betty’s dish and mine, but on a night when we’re toasting Travis and Jolene and thinking about what it means to add a branch to the family, I wanted something that carried the same spirit: beef, slow-cooked, rich with sauce, built for a crowd. This Teriyaki Beef Stew has that same quality — humble ingredients, patient cooking, a result that’s more than the sum of its parts. Serve it over rice with an extra chair at the table.

Teriyaki Beef Stew

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 45 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 lbs beef chuck, cut into 1 1/2-inch cubes
  • 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
  • 1/3 cup soy sauce
  • 3 tablespoons brown sugar
  • 2 tablespoons mirin (or dry sherry)
  • 1 tablespoon rice vinegar
  • 1 teaspoon sesame oil
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 tablespoon fresh ginger, grated
  • 2 cups beef broth
  • 2 medium carrots, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 2 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed
  • 1 medium onion, roughly chopped
  • 1 red bell pepper, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 2 tablespoons cornstarch
  • 2 tablespoons cold water
  • 3 green onions, sliced, for garnish
  • 1 tablespoon sesame seeds, for garnish
  • Cooked white rice, for serving

Instructions

  1. Make the teriyaki base. In a small bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, brown sugar, mirin, rice vinegar, sesame oil, garlic, and ginger. Set aside.
  2. Brown the beef. Pat beef cubes dry with paper towels and season lightly with black pepper. Heat vegetable oil in a large Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat. Working in two batches, brown the beef on all sides, about 3–4 minutes per batch. Do not crowd the pan. Transfer browned beef to a plate and set aside.
  3. Sauté the onion. Reduce heat to medium. Add the chopped onion to the pot and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and lightly golden, about 4 minutes, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom.
  4. Combine and simmer. Return the beef to the pot. Pour in the teriyaki base and the beef broth. Stir to combine. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 1 hour, until the beef is beginning to turn tender.
  5. Add the vegetables. Add the carrots, potatoes, and red bell pepper to the pot. Stir to submerge. Cover and continue to simmer over low heat for an additional 30–35 minutes, until the vegetables are fork-tender and the beef is fully tender.
  6. Thicken the sauce. In a small bowl, stir together the cornstarch and cold water until smooth. Increase heat to medium and stir the cornstarch slurry into the stew. Cook, stirring gently, for 2–3 minutes until the sauce thickens enough to coat a spoon. Taste and adjust seasoning with additional soy sauce or a pinch of sugar as needed.
  7. Serve. Ladle the stew over bowls of cooked white rice. Garnish with sliced green onions and sesame seeds.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 33g | Fat: 15g | Carbs: 29g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 810mg

Craig Hensley
About the cook who shared this
Craig Hensley
Week 137 of Craig’s 30-year story · Lexington, Kentucky
Craig is a retired coal miner from Harlan County, Kentucky — a man who spent twenty years underground and seventeen hours trapped in a collapsed tunnel before he was twenty-four. He moved his family to Lexington when the mine closed, learned to cook his mama Betty's Appalachian recipes from memory because she never wrote them down, and now he's trying to get them on paper before they're lost. He says "reckon" and "fixing to" and means both. His bourbon-glazed ribs are, according to his wife Connie, "acceptable" — which is the highest praise she gives.

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