I am a health nut. I do yoga every morning, drink Evian water almost exclusively, and eat only those foods that are most beneficial to me, according to my blood type. I eat very little grain, dairy or sugar because they make me achy. My lifestyle is unorthodox and so are my adventures in the kitchen.

Beef Bourginon, the French call it. This seemingly tasty dish is the French equivalent to stew. Instead of tomatoes and potatoes, they cook their beef stew with wine and onions. Everybody knows wine and onions are way more glamorous than tomatoes and potatoes, so I thought I’d give it a try.

And it wasn’t a bad idea except - because it seemed so European to do so - I tripled the most powerful ingredient and left the rest at their recommended level.

A petite sophisticate in my 50s-style housewife apron, I poured a little red wine into the crock pot… and then, because it wasn’t covering the vegetables, I poured a little more red wine into the crock pot and then, because it was a French dish and the French love wine, I poured a little more into the crock pot.

This continued for about two minutes, until I had fairly drowned the beef and veggies in an intoxicating soup of Wal-Mart wine.

And I don’t even like wine. In fact, I hate the taste. I hate the smell. For me there’s not too much to like about fermented grapes, except I heard it’s good for your heart.

And that’s the problem.

Silly me, just because something is good for me doesn’t make it delicious. Take for example, prune juice, cod liver oil, or seaweed. This stuff is all very healthy, but let’s face it, after eating them you feel a) crappy about having stink cod liver oil breath and seaweed in your teeth, and b) a dire urge to run to the toilet.

Long story short, after slow cooking my precious bourginon for 10 hours, the end result was a pot of swill so ripe with alcohol I got a buzz just taking the lid off the thing.

Angelface laughed as I tried to eat 1, 2, 3 slices of the tender beef saturated in its intoxicating broth. I wanted to show him, it wasn’t as bad as he thought. I swore I’d eat the whole 6 servings of alcoholic meat and mushrooms myself. Then, late at night, I dumped it all in the trash, because that’s where my bourginon belonged.

C’est la vie.

Posted in Food, The Classics