I read Ulysses in my first year of college, armed with a “European Literary Tradition” class syllabus and a book of annotations that was nearly as long as the novel itself. The details of Proteus and Stephen Dedalus didn’t stay with me in the least, but what remained was the overwhelming sense of loneliness I felt: People were always sadly eating kidneys in a pub, a kind of dual gastronomic punishment (first the solitude, then the kidneys). For a generation that’s been told we should never eat alone, Leopold Bloom’s day seems like a cautionary tale (an extremely elaborate one).
Restaurants can be a taunt to the solitary diner: You can’t even be alone with your loneliness when there’s a table of strangers at your elbow. And your pity party of one would have felt particularly grim if you were seated next to James Joyce’s party of ten. When the Joyces went out, they went as a pack—a boisterous one. Hemingway shared the gossip from Paris in his letters: “[Joyce] and all his family are starving but you can find the whole celtic crew of them every night in Michaud’s, where Binney and I can only afford to go about once a week.” I picture a modern-day Joyce dining out, making it rain euros while ordering bottle service.
Joyce’s enjoyment of food, unlike that of his withdrawn characters, was wrapped up in his enjoyment of others, and vice versa. Writing to his brother, Stanislaus, he requested both food and company: “a slice of corned beef and cabbage, a sizeable beefsteak prepared on a gridiron, and (excuse the hierarchy) an intelligent supra-burgher like yourself to share the meal.”
But Joyce’s favorite dining companion was his wife, Nora—who conveniently also did all the cooking. A day with the Joyces meant a day of eating, starting with hot chocolate at 9 a.m. “At midday we have lunch which we (or rather she) buys, cooks (soup, meat, potatoes and something else)…. At four o’clock we have chocolate and at eight o’clock dinner which Nora cooks.” If anyone tells you having multiple hot chocolates a day is wrong, direct them here.
Eating wasn’t all that went on in the Joyce’s kitchen; if you read their infamously naughty correspondence, you might not want to eat off their dining table when you learn where it’s been. But their exploits prove what Joyce clearly already knew: The kitchen isn’t just a place for the stomach, but for the heart. As he writes to Nora, after a short absence, “I shall not quit the kitchen for a whole week after I arrive, reading, lolling, smoking, and watching you get ready the meals and talking, talking, talking, talking to you. O how supremely happy I shall be! God in heaven, I shall be happy there!”
When Joyce mentions food in his letters, he usually mentions it in bulk: “I would like roast beef, rice-soup, capuzzi garbi, mashed potatoes, pudding and black coffee,” he writes Nora. “No, no I would like stracotto di maccheroni, a mixed salad, stewed prunes, torroni, tea and presnitz. Or no I would stewed eels or polenta with… Excuse me, dear, I am hungry tonight.”
Browse these endless lists of dishes (which also find their way into Ulysses), and you’ll almost assuredly find a soup or two. Joyce constantly mentions soups and stews in both his letters and his novels; “thick giblet soup” is a favorite of Leopold Bloom, although Joyce has a particular fondness for stracotto, a braised pot roast served with pasta, which he discovered while living in Trieste. It’s a hearty dish, more suitable for a stick-to-your-ribs winter meal than for middle-of-summer Bloomsday, but Bloom’s meals weren’t particularly seasonal either (Kidneys? Cocoa and cider? In June?).
This is one of those one-pot wonders with flavors so rich, you’ll wonder why it wasn’t more work. As my roast simmered away on the stove, I remembered what Joyce wrote while struggling with Ulysses: “The ingredients will not fuse until they have reached a certain temperature.” More effort doesn’t always mean a better result. Sometimes it’s just a matter of letting the flavors meld.
(Adapted from Gourmet)
2 pounds boneless chuck roast
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
2 large onions, finely chopped
2 carrots, cut into 1-inch pieces
2 celery ribs, cut into 1-inch pieces
6 garlic cloves, minced
1 cup red wine
2 cups beef or veal stock
1 can (14 ounces) crushed tomatoes
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon dried oregano
2 bay leaves
1/2 teapoon red chile flakes
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
1 pound dry rigatoni
Grated parmesan cheese, to taste
1. Pat roast dry with paper towels and season with salt and pepper. In a large pot over medium heat, add 1 tablespoon oil until hot but not smoking. Add meat and brown on both sides, about 12 minutes total. Transfer to a platter and set aside.
2. To the same pot, add remaining 1 tablespoon oil and the onions, carrots, celery and garlic. Sauté over moderately high heat until softened and golden, about 5 minutes. Add wine, stock, tomatoes, thyme, oregano, bay leaves and chile flakes and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low.
3. Return roast with any juices on platter to pot and cover. Braise, turning over once every 30 minutes, until tender enough to shred with a fork, about 3 hours. Add additional wine as needed, if sauce reduces too much.
4. Transfer meat to a cutting board and allow to cool slightly. Meanwhile, discard bay leaves from sauce and, using an immersion blender, purée sauce until texture is thick and even. Cut meat into 2-inch chunks, then shred with 2 forks. Return shredded meat to sauce, and season with salt and pepper.
5. Cook rigatoni in a pot of boiling salted water until al dente. Drain, reserving 1/2 cup pasta water. Stir water into sauce, then add pasta and stir to coat. Top with grated cheese.
Paper and Salt 
Reblogged this on yasarnorman.
Thank you!
Pingback: Reading: “James Joyce: Rigatoni Con Stracotto” | The Tart Little Piggy
Now, THAT is a very proper ragu!
Ha, thank you! Glad it holds up. 🙂
Those last two lines really resonated with me. Letting ingredients do the heavy lifting is something I don’t do enough, but, when I do, the results are usually so satisfying.
I think summer can be the best time to just let ingredients sing – everything is so fresh and beautiful, and really don’t need a lot of effort to come together. Plus, I love not turning on the stove when it’s hot 🙂
Everybody should feel as happy in the kitchen (even the non cooks) as Joyce described in his letter to Nora, how wonderful! And who knew? I am so thrilled to have come across your blog today. It’s right up my alley. I’m going to have a very, very good look around. 😉
So glad you found me. I love his letters to Nora, although some of them get quite scandalous. The kitchen definitely brings out the “passion,” for sure!
While I admit that I don’t very often stray from my list of tried and true supper recipes, your blog is my absolute favorite. Learning about their favorite foods adds a touch of the personal that’s so hard to come by. I just love it!
Wow, thank you so much – I’m so glad you’re enjoying it. It’s been a great way for me to make a departure from my recipe staples too – if left to my own devices, I might make the same version of this farro salad every day …
Pingback: For Bloomsday: Stracotto di maccheroni | FutureWorld
Excellent post! And my word that recipe looks heavenly!
It made so much, I was eating leftovers for about a week – and I didn’t get tired of it! That’s a winner in my book. 🙂
I don’t know how I am going to be able to eat any more Rigatoni and not smile and think of your blog! Thanks for making my day!
Thanks for reading – can’t beat a bowl of rigatoni, except with some literary quotes to go with 🙂
Too funny. Thanks for sharing James! http://www.segmation.wordpress.com
Thanks for reading! His letters are a riot.
Yes, I agree!
Pasta and literature – me likey! Will have to try this recipe out.
Excellent post, as always! And congrats on the Freshly Pressed! I love any braised dish, especially if it includes pasta.
Wow! Great post. Thanks for sharing and congrats on being freshly pressed!
That looks amazing, it *almost* makes me fire up the oven in this June weather. Mostly, I appreciate how you shared the social and literary element of the dish. Hemmingway would have been proud. The best I could do was Twilight and cold shrimp in an airport, hahaha. http://thrillseekingbehavior.wordpress.com/2010/07/24/recipe-rolodex/
It was good shrimp, anyway.
Great post. I’ve made something similar but using short ribs – slow cooked in tomato sauce, then deboned and shredded. It’s delish.
Beautiful recipe! Reminds me of The Leopard.
Happiness and passion in the Kitchen, so true 🙂 now you have tempted me to read the letters to Nora!
Have a great day, greetings from Italy 🙂
I remember when leading tour guides around Dublin (I was at college at the time); I learnt a few very funny facts about James Joyce.
He has a very little statue; too! Lovely post.. Made me very hungry though!!
Following, because I`m from Ireland, and because I have a love/hate relationship with Joyce.
What a fun post! Love the combo of celebrating Joyce along with a super delicious sounding recipe.
Yummy…looks nice!
This post is the discovery of the day for me. Have been browsing Internet for inspiring recipes for the whole day, and here I find a different kind of inspiration, more than loading the daily calories into my stomach.
I will definitely step by once in a while for some more inspiring reads.
Great post! I love food and books myself and that picture looks so delicious I’ll have to make it now.
what a fantastic blog entry! as a huge fan of Joyce, and the social experience of dining with friends (which i and my partner do A LOT!), this was such a mouth-watering read…
most inspired.
Original. An interesting point of view.
that looks delicious.
That looks so delicious. Definitely going to try it out!
I’m always looking for new recipes…I have one of the pickiest little eaters ever, so I am glad I happened on this post and am soon to have a go at Rigatoni.
Going to try this recipe.
Thanks for posting this. keep posting.
http://www.hosting1.in
Love this 🙂
i love pasta very much
great combination of words & foods 🙂
Hello! I just discovered your blog through my friend Emiko’s blog. How wonderful to discover it! I love historic cookery books and recipes and cover them on my blog so it is clear why I love your work. I look forward to reading more!
So glad you found me – I love your blog! Going through old cookbooks is such a treasure hunt. Can’t wait to see what you do next!
What a gorgeous dish. I love a hearty plate of pasta. Lovely photo too!
I’m convinced my last meal would be a plate of pasta with bolognese – and a huge chocolate cookie. Can’t beat it!
Clearly you haven’t had the joy of Dublin in summer if you think kidney’s can’t be June food. Unfortunately Ireland tends to lose defined seasons in a sea of grey. Lovely post, I really enjoyed reading it and getting more insight into Joyce. Despite growing up minutes from the tower where Ulysses begins, and swimming regularly in the ‘scrotumtightening sea’ there, I have never managed to make it through the whole book. One day..
It looks delicious ! For sure making it! Thanks
Wonderful – hope you enjoy it!
Pingback: 10 Life Lessons from Writers & Chefs (and a Giveaway) | Paper and Salt
Pingback: Celebrate St Patrick's Day with memories of Oscar Wilde & James Joyce
I can see eating this in the middle of an Irish summer. Brr! I love (and studied) Irish literature and this post was such a joy to read. The insights into Joyce’s love of food and of Nora were especially enjoyable.
In fact, the kidney is famously eaten for breakfast at home (slightly burnt), not in a pub. Mr Bloom more famously eats a Gorgonzola sandwich in the pub for lunch.
Pingback: Ezra Pound: Spaghetti with Pancetta, Sage and Fried Egg | Paper and Salt
Heya outstanding website! Does running a blog such as this require a great deal of work?
I’ve absolutely no expertise in computer programming but I
had been hoping to start my own blog in the near future.
Anyhow, if you have any suggestions or tips for new blog owners please share.
I know this is off topic nevertheless I simply wanted to ask.
Thanks a lot!