For my girlfriend's birthday, after more than a few celebratory glasses of the Nebbiolo I had brought over, I realized I had miscaculated the timing, and my shortribs would not be done in time to place a stoppage on at least a parcel of the vino awash over our brains, and so, thinking they'd be at least allright, I pulled from the oven and served them. They were not good and needed much more time, though the chile rellenos and grit cakes I had made from Anson Mills white grits (ansonmills.com) were good enough to render the evening not a complete failure.
But, flash forward to next night's meal, and my girlfriend plopped on the table, just as my Tarheels were putting the final touches on a trouncing (well, not really) of that school that rhymes with Puke, a plate of what I had intended her birthday meal to be, yet the accompanying sauce was completely different, as were her methods.
While I had browned and then braised the ribs in a light mole (onions, pasilla and ancho and new mexico chiles, garlic, some not-that-good chocolate, and some tomatoes I had smoked over hickory on my WSM the previous week, she had taken the ribs the next day, shook them of sauce and dried them, dusted them in a cayenne-laced flour, and browned them AGAIN (i've never heard of twice-browned anything, though she said it was a natural extension of her ways with her south carolina twice-dipped fried chicken), and then braised them with carmelized onions and jalapenos in blueberry and pomegranate juice (a blend, one container of juice--not separate juices). (One thing I was wondering, though--even after so much braising time, there were still pockets of fat that looked as if they'd never render--is this typical of most shortribs?)
Anyways, with more of the Anson Mills grits and some Shiner Bock, this was easily the best thing I've eaten this year.
-parker