Simmer Down

Get the recipe: Braised Pork with Oranges

BRAISING BY THE BOOK

KEEP IT ON THE DOWN LOW. Most braising takes place at low oven temperatures, around 300°.

DRY OFF. Before you sear the meat, dry it thoroughly with paper towels. If it's wet when it hits the pan, it won't brown correctly.

EASY DOES IT. Sear your meat slowly over medium heat to develop good caramelization. If you sear meat too quickly at a high temperature, you could burn the outside.

BROWN IN BATCHES. If you're searing multiple pieces of meat (lamb shanks, chicken legs) and you crowd the pan, the meat will steam and you won't get that essential golden-brown crust.

GO FISH. Braising isn't just for meat. But quick braises of fish and thin cuts of meat should be gently simmered on the stove over low heat; longer, slower braises belong in the oven.

PUT A LID ON IT. Braising works best when the flavorful steam is sealed in a heavy-duty Dutch oven. A 5-quart size is generally the most useful.

Braising expert Molly Stevens shows us how to make the most of a one-pot meal.

Molly Stevens has no business drinking cocktails. Not at the moment, anyway. She's 15 minutes away from serving four dishes to five girlfriends at her house near Burlington, Vermont, and yet she's sipping pear martinis, snacking on fig appetizers and gabbing with the gals about her recent trip to Texas. Anyone who's ever thrown a dinner party knows that the host doesn't get to chitchat before the meal. But Stevens is prepared. She's braising tonight, and as the author of the award-winning cookbook All About Braising , she'll be the first to tell you: The beauty of this cooking technique—other than the fact that it only dirties one pot—is that a chunk of meat stews at a low temperature for a long time, freeing up the cook during those crucial hours before dinner. It's ingenious party food.

"I feel like I cheated when I wrote the book," she says earlier in the day, as she unwraps a raw pork shoulder. "Braising is so easy. If you do a few things right—if you brown the meat properly and build a good braising liquid and cook it gently and slowly—it's going to turn out well." She demonstrates each key step as she goes, drying off the pork with paper towels, binding it into a tight loaf with kitchen string and searing it on all sides. Next she adds the liquid (wine and chicken broth), plus oranges, leeks and bacon. So far, so easy. Then she grabs a piece of parchment paper and, like a frustrated writer, crumples it into a ball. She opens the ball, pushes the wrinkled sheet down in the pot to cover the meat, then puts the lid on top.

The paper acts as a second lid, she explains, keeping the flavorful steam closer to the meat. The paper crumpling is about as complicated a maneuver as anyone will witness in Stevens's kitchen. She doesn't believe in industrial ranges and whiz-bang gadgetry. She cooks with mismatched knives, a tired old slotted spoon with a melted plastic handle and a strainer that's been around for umpteen years. "I think this was my mother's," she says, laughing. None of this stops her from preparing a fine winter feast, however: Along with the pork, she's serving a potato gratin, an inventive salad sprinkled with pomegranate seeds, and a rustic upside-down apple cake. She doesn't need fancy machinery to get it all done. She's been co-authoring cookbooks and teaching classes for almost 20 years, and she knows more than a few great tricks. She can pull the seeds out of a pomegranate without making a mess, for example, and she can slice oranges in a flash. Most impressive, though, is that she can make dinner for six and still have time for happy hour.