We Make Lidia Bastianich's Goulash

With the unseasonably warm weather this week, we've almost forgotten the cold winter that waits around the corner. No matter. As summer turned to fall, and September to October, a familiar chill started to surface. Seventy degree days became fifty degree days, and that, according to us, is the perfect time to test cold weather recipes. So as we dust off sweaters and start wearing pajamas to bed, let's also get the oven on, rearrange the kitchen, and make way for braises, stews, roasts, dark beer, red wine, squash, pumpkins, gords of all shapes and sizes, cauliflower, cardoons, brussel sprouts, and the bounty of other veggies that turn a cold shoulder to freezing soil.

After the fun and success we had with Lidia Bastianich's Malloreddus al Ragu, we thought we'd try another recipe of her's: Goulash. The dish is centuries-old, and of Hungarian origin, but is enjoyed in Friuli because the region was once part of Austro-Hungarian Empire. Because of this eastern European influence, Friuli is the only region in Italy where you'll find paprika, and that's what gives this dish its unique, signature smokiness.

We made the recipe last week, when it still felt like fall, and highly recommend you do the same when it gets cold out again. It's cheap, easy, and deeply satisfying. Here's what you'll need.

3 lbs beef (use the cheapest, fattiest cut you can find), cubed

1/2 lb bacon (thick-cut and cut into match sticks)

4 or 5 russet potatoes, rough chopped

2 medium yellow onions, 1 quartered 1 diced

3 cups water

2 tbsps tomato paste

1 tbsp flour

1 tbsp paprika

1 tsp dried oregano

1 tsp dried rosemary

salt and pepper to taste

1/4 cup olive oil

Peel and quarter one of the onions.

Pour olive oil into the pan and add the onions.

You'll likely have to trim some of the fat. Do that while the onions cook.

Using a sharp knife, slide it under the sinew and fat and carefully cut it away.

Pull back on the fat as you cut to help fascilitate the process.

We removed most of the fat, but that's because the meat is well-marbled and doesn't need any extra in the fat department.

Cut the meat into 1-inch steaks.

Cut the steaks into 1-inch cubes and season them liberally with salt and pepper.

Add the seasoned meat to the pan.

Pour over the oregano, rosemary, and paprika.

While the meat cooks, prepare the braising liquid. This step is what we love most about the dish. It's simple, economical, and very effective. Add the three cups of water to a small pan.

Add flour.

Whisk in the tomato paste, which, together with the flour, is what gives the liquid its sturdy heft and delicate thickness.

Bring the flour/tomato paste slurry to a simmer and pour it over the seasoned meat and onions.

It may seem like there's too much water, but the excess will cook off.

Cover that baby and start on the potatoes.

Add the potatoes to well-salted, cold water and bring to a boil. Cook until tender.

Prep the bacon while the potatoes cook.

Cut the bacon into sizeable "matchsticks."

Add the bacon to a cold pan and render away over low heat.

Once the potatoes a peel after they've cooked and cooled.

Half the potatoes lenghtwise and cut those into half-moons.

Dice the second onion.

Admire the beautifully rendered bacon.

Add the diced onion to the bacon and cook on low heat for five minutes. Add salt if you want, but you probably won't need to given the bacon's salinity.

Add the potatoes to the onion and bacon. Use a wooden spoon to mash the potatoes a bit and make sure the bottom of the pan is well-covered. Cook on low for eight to ten minutes.

Give the pan a big flip and admire the golden goodness.

In our excitement to eat, we forgot to get a shot of the final stew, but this is what it looks like plated! Serve the potatoes hot from the pan onto a warm dish and scoop onto that as much goulash as your heart desires. Drink a cool-climate red wine with this. Something like Zweigelt, Nebbiolo from northern Piedmont, or, because this dish is inspired by the food of Italy's northeastern region of Friuli, a bottle of smoky Schioppettino would probably sing harmoniously with the paprika and onions.