After a long day of work at Bethlehem Steel, my Poppop would come home to an already delicious smelling house, give the simmering beef stew a quick stir and declare that “his” beef stew was finished.
Your beef stew Poppop? Really? Gramma and I worked hard on that this afternoon, and….oh never mind. It was his thing, and our entire family knew it. It’s one of those memories that I hold fondly near and dear to my heart. I don’t know why. Maybe it was just the way he said it, or maybe it was more deeply representative of the jovial and playful nature of the love he had for his family. He was most certainly the man of the house, but at the same time, he never made my Gramma, or anyone else, feel as though they were beneath him.
In any case, this beef stew came out perfect each and every time, and it was devoured in much the manner it deserved to be! I’ve been trying to get this recipe right for YEARS and until I inherited the recipe box full of childhood memories, I never quite nailed it. Not so anymore; this will
become remain a family staple for generations to come!