Food and Flavors

🇫🇷 When Paris Plans Fall Through… I Make Julia Child’s Beef Bourguignon

This Thanksgiving was supposed to look very different for us. My son and I had planned a quick trip to Paris — built entirely around seeing his favorite band play there — and we added a day trip to Normandy so he could experience it for the first time. I’ve been before (full writeup here), and it’s a place that stays with you: the history, the cliffs, the quiet weight of it all. I was excited to see it again through his eyes.

But the trip unraveled at the last minute – no concert, no Normandy, no Paris.

If you’ve ever had a getaway fall apart right before takeoff, you know that mix of disappointment and restlessness — the moments you were looking forward to sharing, the mental calendar you’d already filled in, and the research of the best butter to bring back. When the trip isn’t just about the destination, but about the experience with someone you love, the letdown hits differently.

So when Paris slips out of reach, I bring a little of it home. And for me, that starts in the kitchen with Julia Child’s Boeuf Bourguignon — the dish that feels most like France, most like comfort, and most like a warm hug when plans shift unexpectedly.


🥘 Why Julia’s Beef Bourguignon?

As a former personal chef, I’ve cooked a lot of versions of this dish — modern shortcuts, simplified weeknight takes, and a handful of restaurant-leaning interpretations. But nothing beats Julia Child’s original recipe from Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

It’s slow, methodical, and deeply aromatic. And it transforms your home into a tiny, cozy corner of France for a few hours.

It also happens to be the perfect alternative Thanksgiving centerpiece when turkey isn’t calling your name.


🍷 Julia Child’s Boeuf Bourguignon

(My well-loved, slightly modernized version of her iconic recipe)

Ingredients

  • 6 oz chunk bacon or thick-cut strips, diced
  • 3 lbs lean stewing beef, cut into 2-inch cubes
  • Salt & pepper
  • 1 carrot, sliced
  • 1 onion, sliced
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 1/4 tsp pepper
  • 2 tbsp flour
  • 3 cups full-bodied red wine (Burgundy recommended) reduced
  • 2–3 cups beef stock
  • 1 tbsp tomato paste
  • 2 cloves garlic, smashed
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 1/4 tsp thyme
  • 18–24 pearl onions, browned and braised
  • 1 lb mushrooms, quartered and sautéed
  • Fresh parsley for serving

🥄 Directions (Julia’s Technique, My Words)

1. Brown the bacon.

Render the fat, crisp the pieces, and set them aside. You’ll use the fat to sear everything else.

2. Brown the beef — in batches.

Resist the temptation to crowd the pot. Deep browning is where all the flavor comes from.

3. Brown the carrots and onions.

Just enough color to build the base.

4. Season and dust with flour.

Sprinkle the beef with salt, pepper, and flour; toss to coat. Slide the pot into a hot oven for 4 minutes, toss again, and give it another 4 minutes.
This creates that signature crust Julia was so particular about.

5. Build the braise.

Pour in the reduced wine (approximately 2 cups) and enough beef stock to barely cover the meat. Add tomato paste, garlic, herbs, bacon, and the (optional) bacon rind. Bring it all to a gentle simmer.

6. Slow-cook to perfection.

Cover and cook on low heat for 2½–3 hours, until the beef is fall-apart tender and the sauce is glossy and silky.

7. Finish with the mushrooms and onions.

Julia insists these are cooked separately so they stay firm and flavorful — and she is absolutely right. Fold them in just before serving.


🍽️ How I Serve It

  • Over buttery mashed potatoes or spooned over buttered egg noodles
  • With a crusty baguette to mop up every last bit
  • And always with a glass of the same wine I used in the pot

It tastes even better the next day (Julia knew what she was doing).


✨ When You Can’t Get to Paris, Cook Like You’re There

Would I trade a bowl of beef bourguignon for hearing my son’s favorite band in Paris or watching him see Normandy for the first time? Of course not. However, those experiences will likely recur. Paris isn’t going anywhere.

But there’s something comforting about cooking a dish so firmly tied to France — a dish built on patience, ritual, and a little red wine therapy.

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