Stracotto alla Romagnola

Stracotto means 'overcooked,' which tells you everything about this dish. The meat cooks past tender, past falling-apart, until it practically dissolves into the wine-dark sauce. This is not a mistake. This is the point.

In Romagna, Sunday meant stracotto. The pot went into the oven after morning Mass and filled the house with its fragrance while the family gathered. By the time we sat down, the beef had given up all resistance. The sauce, reduced to glossy intensity, held the memory of an entire bottle of Sangiovese.

Americans often undercook their pot roasts, leaving the meat merely tender. This is not stracotto. Push past tender. Cook it until your fork meets nothing that could be called resistance. The meat should threaten to collapse when you try to lift it. Only then have you made stracotto.

What you keep out matters here as much as anywhere. Two cloves, one bay leaf, one sprig of rosemary. No more. The beef and the wine must remain the conversation. Everything else whispers from the background.