MINI ADVENTURE IN DOMESTICITY: Asian Pot Roast Edition

The terms “Asian” and “pot roast” aren’t often found together because according to New York Times culinary star Mark Bittman, “a scarcity of fuel in east Asia precluded long, slow cooking” back in the day. That’s all well and good, but you see, I bought these chuck roasts from Costco a few months ago, and now I’ve gotta use them. I can only make so many traditional, European-style pot roasts (red wine, garlic, onion, carrots, celery). Don’t get me wrong — the French and British traditions of pot roasts are lovely — but I love Asian flavor profiles; so off to the Internet I went in search of some sort of Asian-y braise I could apply to mah meat.
Unfortunately, I discovered that there were very few braises that seemed trustworthy. I searched for “Asian pot roast,” “Asian short ribs,” “Asian braise,” etc. etc.. Emeril had an option that looked decent, but then again, so did Mark Bittman (see above link). Plus, I once had used an Aida Mollenkamp Asian short rib recipe that I had found quite delightful; so that was a contender too. After consulting with Sly, Jash, and Erin McChids of Dishwasher Ready, I decided to “hotrod” (as Ina says) the Mollenkamp ribs by adding some elements of the ever-trusted Bittman Asian pot roast recipe along with a few items from my kitchen. Unfortunately, I took no photos of the experience, but I can tell you right now it turned out wonderfully. That’s why I’m writing this. It was so good, I felt the need to share what I did so that I can add to the small canon of Asian Pot Roast recipes on the Internet.
Details after the jump.

First things first. After defrosting my slab of meat, I seasoned it liberally with about a tablespoon of kosher salt and maybe three teaspoons of Chinese five-spice. Basically, I just slathered the chuck roast – mostly in the latter.
Then, in the dutch oven, I heated up a combo of vegetable and sesame oil (mostly vegetable though) on a medium-high flame until they were shimmering and super hot, perhaps even smoking a touch. I lowered the chuck roast into the oil mix and seared it for about five minutes per side. Be warned that if you follow suit, amazing odors will emanate nearly instantly.
When both sides of the meat were nicely browned, I removed it to a separate plate and then spooned out all but about a tablespoon of oil/drippings/grease. I then lowered the flame to medium and added about six cloves of smashed garlic, six pieces of ginger (unpeeled), and a serano pepper. I sautéed until fragrant — about a minute. I should note that up until this point, it was all Aida’s recipe (except for the oil mix — that was a joint decision by me and my aforementioned advisors).
Then it was time to add the cooking liquid. I pretty much used whatever I had on hand. Aida calls for a cup and a half of sherry, a third of a cup of brown sugar, and half a cup of oyster sauce. WELL, unfortunately, I only had half a cup of sherry left; so I just added that and subbed water for the rest. I poured in the sugar and the oyster sauce… and then I started to feel the improv bug. In an effort to incorporate some Bittman touches, I tossed in about half a cup of soy sauce (didn’t want to add more, lest it become too salty). That was pretty much the beginning and end of the Bittman contributions. The rest from this point out was just junk from my pantry and fridge.
I added about a tablespoon of hoisin sauce. Then I added a spoonful of that awesome chili-garlic sauce that’s like sriracha, but not quite. Don’t worry though. I added some sriracha too (just a quick squeeze or two). I also added a bunch of sesame seeds and some splashes of rice vinegar, and then I quartered an onion and added it into the pot. I brought everything to a simmer and returned the meat and its juices to the pot. As it turns out though, I have a very wide pot; so the liquids didn’t really cover (or semi-cover) the meat. What to do? Well, I just added more water and some beef broth until the liquid level was where it was supposed to be. And with that, I dropped the flame to low, covered up the pot, and let it cook for three hours.
I flipped the meat once midway through, and honestly, when there was about fifteen minutes left, I tried to flip it again, but the meat was so tender, it started to fall apart. I naturally aborted the meat-flipping operation and moved on to the next stage — Operation: Oil Removal. Unfortunately, chuck roast is a bit fatty, and as such, the liquid was very, very oily. I skimmed off as much as I could before resorting to stowing the pot in the fridge for a few hours to get the oil to congeal (I later removed said congealed oil under the watchful eyes of Sly and Lil Grans).
Nevertheless, I didn’t wind up even eating the pot roast until the next night, but I can tell you, it was awwwwesome. I wouldn’t say that it tasted intensely Asian — sort of the way a plate of beef and broccoli or Korean galbi or Vietnamese bo luc lac does. However, there was certainly an Asian bent to it that was just delicious. All the flavors were wonderfully complex with a touch of sweetness in the otherwise intensely savory sauce. As an alternate to standard pot roast, this Asian-y version was kind of amazing. I highly recommend.
Oh, and sorry for the crappy, possibly unappetizing picture up top. I really dropped the ball in the photography department. I blame Lil Grans.