MALIBU WAY OF LIFE

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More month than money

His is not a cooking column. Although I write about food, it is the bond that grows from meals shared with friends and family that inspire me to cook and, I hope, encourage you to do so, too.

When I was a young, “poor starving student,” money ran out before the month. In the early days, when my checks came in, I’d invite all my friends for a modest feast and chocolate mousse, but as the month dwindled and the cash in my wallet shrank to singles and then to coins, dinner became a solitary meal of Kraft mac and cheese. My feast-and-famine budget kept me slim, but my gurgling stomach announced my plight and annoyed the folks around me.

One Sunday, salvation showed up in the form of a moment’s madness when my roommate blurted out a dinner invitation to a dozen students sitting around us nursing cups of coffee. She said, “Empty your pantry and clean out your freezer. Bag up what you’ve got and drop it at our place. Give us an hour or two and we’ll cook something great-you clean.”

The response was tremendous. Big brown bags of food arrived all day long. There were masses of fresh vegetables from the farmers’ market and giant boxes of pasta, beans and rice. Freezer-burned blocks of mystery meats, ground and chunked, arrived almost begging to be stewed and spiced. That first Sunday, we made both a chili casserole and a winy beef stew and laid it out on my battered oak table with a salad and a loaf of freshly baked bread. As the sun sank, friends wandered in carrying more bags, this time filled with candles, wine, fruit and dessert.

It was such a happy and memorable evening, we vowed to do a Sunday supper once a month, but we upped the ante, telling everyone to bring Tupperware for leftovers to tide them over the hungry days. Some wag coined a phrase for our tradition-The Stewps-since we were as likely to make a thick, hearty soup as a stew. But there was always a main course that could grow if friends brought guests or we could freeze if fewer showed up than planned. Stewp rules were simple: Sunday at sundown, no RSVPs, anyone on the list could bring two guests, invitees dropped off food or cash the day before, and everyone brought bread, wine or dessert to dinner.

These evenings became the social highlights of our busy lives; moments where secrets were shared and laughter was contagious. These treasured nights of good food and better conversation forged friendships to last a lifetime.

Now, decades later, my husband and I have revived the Stewps with a single rule change -we cook the main course and guests bring wine, cheese, fruit or dessert. With a dozen names on the list, we can count on dinner for eight. And, for us, the intimacy of simple meals shared with people we care about, but use to see too little, are worth setting aside an evening a month.

This month’s Stewp is Irish stew in honor of St. Patrick and our Irish-American friends. Erin Go Bragh!

Irish Stew

Serves 8 – 10

In the Emerald Isles of Ireland where mist is a constant and rainbows frequent companions, locals tell of the Little People who live in the grass and guard pots of gold resting at rainbow’s end. I think the treasure of the leprechauns must be the golden spuds- staple food of the Irish. Their stew is probably the oldest recipe from the region, and if not the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, it is a welcome end to a chilly day. There are many variations, but three ingredients are constants—lamb, onions and spuds-along with a bit of ancient wisdom: cook slowly over a low flame until the meat melts. Here is the basic recipe along with a tasty variation from a Dublin pub.

4 lb. boneless lamb in 2-inch cubes

3 Tbs. vegetable oil

2 large onions, chopped

1 tsp. dried thyme, variation

2 cups amber ale, variation

1 lb. carrots, in 1-inch chunks, variation

2 lb. potatoes, cubed

1 bunch parsley, chopped

1. Toss lamb with coarse salt and freshly ground pepper. Heat oil in a Dutch oven and brown lamb in batches.

2. Splash water to deglaze the pan before cooking onions until golden. Return lamb to the pot and add thyme and/or ale, if desired. Pour water or broth to cover. Simmer 2 hours or until lamb is very tender and onions, dissolved.

3. Add root vegetables and cook until tender and the sauce is thick-20-30 minutes. Stir in parsley just before serving.

Serve with “champ”-potatoes steamed with green onions and mashed with cream and butter. Steamed, well-drained cabbage is a traditional accompaniment.