
Chef Juliana
Bife à Parmegiana
You don't need restaurant nerve for this. Pound the steak thin, bread it farinha-ovo-rosca, fry it crisp, cover with honest tomato sauce and mussarela. Lunch is solved.
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You don't need talent for creamy polenta. You need hot stock, a steady whisk, and the nerve to keep stirring until the corn relaxes into dinner.
You think this is where the kitchen catches you. The pan, the whisk, the fear of lumps, that quiet little "isso não é pra mim" trying to sit down at your table before dinner does. No. Anota aí: polenta is not a test of talent. It's a test of attention, and attention is something a gente can learn.
I learned that the embarrassing way, standing over a pan in my late twenties, stirring cornmeal that looked like wet cement and wondering who had allowed me near food. Then I wrote it down in my caderno, because cozinhar não é dom, é um aprendizado. Hot liquid first. Cornmeal in slowly. Stir until the grain cooks, swells, and turns silky. That's the recipe, not the drama.
This is comida de verdade with an Italian-Sudeste accent: corn, onion, garlic, tomato, meat, time. It doesn't replace the pê-efe, rice and beans and a piece of meat or egg and something green, but it belongs to the same household logic. Feed people well, use the pot properly, make enough for tomorrow.
The ragu starts with an honest refogado, because flavor has to begin somewhere real. The polenta finishes creamy because you don't rush the corn. Put couve or a sharp salad beside it and you've solved dinner without a packet pretending to help.
Polenta traveled into Brazilian home cooking with Italian immigrants who arrived in large numbers in São Paulo and the South from the late nineteenth century onward, especially after the expansion of coffee plantations. Corn was already central in Brazil, so the Italian method met a local ingredient and became part of everyday tables in the Sudeste and Sul. In many homes, ragu means the practical Brazilian version too: meat cooked down with onion, garlic, tomato, and patience, closer to a family pot than a restaurant sauce.
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1 medium
finely chopped
Quantity
1 medium
finely chopped
Quantity
1
finely chopped
Quantity
4 cloves
minced
Quantity
700 g
Quantity
1 1/2 teaspoons, divided, plus more to taste
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1/2 cup
Quantity
2 cups
Quantity
1 cup, plus more as needed
Quantity
2
Quantity
1 tablespoon, plus more to finish
chopped
Quantity
6 cups
Quantity
1 1/2 cups
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1/2 cup
Quantity
1 bunch
thinly sliced, to serve
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| oil | 2 tablespoons |
| onionfinely chopped | 1 medium |
| carrotfinely chopped | 1 medium |
| celery stalk (optional)finely chopped | 1 |
| garlicminced | 4 cloves |
| ground beef | 700 g |
| salt | 1 1/2 teaspoons, divided, plus more to taste |
| black pepper | 1/2 teaspoon |
| tomato paste | 2 tablespoons |
| dry red wine or water | 1/2 cup |
| crushed tomatoes | 2 cups |
| water or beef stock | 1 cup, plus more as needed |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| parsleychopped | 1 tablespoon, plus more to finish |
| chicken stock, beef stock, or water | 6 cups |
| fine yellow cornmeal or fubá mimoso | 1 1/2 cups |
| butter | 2 tablespoons |
| grated parmesan or cured Minas-style cheese | 1/2 cup |
| couve (optional)thinly sliced, to serve | 1 bunch |
Warm the oil in a heavy pot over medium heat. Add the onion, carrot, and celery if using, with a pinch of the salt. Cook until the onion goes soft and see-through and the carrot smells sweet, about 6 minutes. This is the base of the ragu, so let it murchar properly. Raw onion taste doesn't disappear by magic later.
Add the beef in loose pieces and spread it across the pot. Let it sit until the bottom browns, then break it up and stir. Keep cooking until the meat has lost its raw color and you see browned bits sticking to the pot, about 8 to 10 minutes. If the pot fills with liquid, keep cooking until that water evaporates. Wet meat steams grey; dry heat builds flavor.
Add the garlic and cook for one minute, just until you smell it. Stir in the tomato paste and cook until it darkens a little and clings to the meat, about 2 minutes. Pour in the wine or water and scrape the bottom of the pot. Those brown bits are flavor, not dirt. Add the crushed tomatoes, 1 cup water or stock, bay leaves, pepper, and the remaining salt.
Bring the sauce to a lively bubble, then lower the heat and simmer uncovered for 35 to 45 minutes, stirring now and then. It should thicken, turn brick-red, and leave a clear path when you drag the spoon across the bottom. If it dries before the meat softens, add water by the 1/4 cup. Ragu needs time so the tomato loses its sharp edge and the meat tastes like it belongs in the pot.
When the ragu is almost ready, bring 6 cups stock or water to a boil in a wide heavy pot. Taste it and salt it until it tastes pleasantly seasoned. Polenta drinks this liquid, so bland water makes bland polenta. Lower the heat to medium-low once it boils, because angry bubbling throws cornmeal around and nobody asked for kitchen confetti.
Hold the cornmeal in one hand and a whisk in the other. Sprinkle the cornmeal into the hot liquid in a slow rain while whisking constantly. Don't dump it. A pile of dry cornmeal hits hot liquid and makes lumps before you can blink. A slow rain lets each grain hydrate separately, which is how creamy begins.
Switch to a wooden spoon and cook over low heat for about 20 minutes, stirring often and scraping the corners of the pot. The polenta is ready when it loses the raw corn smell, thickens, and falls from the spoon in soft waves instead of gritty clumps. If it gets too stiff before it tastes cooked, add hot water or stock 1/2 cup at a time. The corn decides when it's done, not your impatience.
Turn off the heat and stir the butter and cheese into the polenta until glossy. Taste and adjust the salt. Spoon the polenta into shallow bowls, ladle the ragu over the center, and finish with parsley. Serve with sautéed couve or a sharp green salad, because a full plate needs something green to cut through the richness.
1 serving (about 520g)
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Chef Juliana
You don't need restaurant nerve for this. Pound the steak thin, bread it farinha-ovo-rosca, fry it crisp, cover with honest tomato sauce and mussarela. Lunch is solved.

Chef Juliana
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Chef Juliana
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Chef Juliana
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