Beef Satay with Peanut Sauce

Week 365. Seven full years of this blog. Seven years of 52 Sundays each. I have written you every week, mi amor, through hurricanes and deaths and weddings and births and retirement, and you have read me, and I am grateful.

This week I made ropa vieja because David called on Wednesday and asked how to adjust the braising liquid when the meat is from a grass-fed rather than commodity cow. Grass-fed is leaner. Grass-fed needs more fat in the liquid. I talked him through it. He took notes. This is a thing that happens now — my son calls for technical advice and I give it and he adjusts his restaurant menu based on my answer. The Brooklyn customers eat grass-fed ropa vieja and they do not know that the recipe is being adjusted over the phone in real-time by a fifty-seven-year-old retired hospital cafeteria manager in West Hartford.

Mami has not been good this week. She has had three hard days in a row — Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday — where she ate very little, slept most of the afternoon, and was confused in the mornings. Wednesday she called me at 5 AM and said, "Carmen, where are you?" I said, "Mami, I am at home." She said, "You are supposed to be here." I said, "Mami, I will be there at 9 like I always am." She said, "Okay." She hung up. Eduardo woke up and I told him. I could not go back to sleep. I was there by 7 AM. She was in her chair watching the Spanish news. She was fine. She did not remember calling me. I did not remind her.

I stayed with her all day Wednesday. I made her breakfast. I did her dishes. I sat with her while she napped. At 2 PM I drove home to start dinner. Eduardo met me at the door. He said, "How is she?" I said, "She is fading." He said, "I know." I said, "Eduardo, I do not know how long." He said, "Carmen. We do not know. Nobody knows. One day at a time." I cried a little. He held me.

Sunday dinner was quiet. Eduardo and me. Mami did not come — she was not up to it, she stayed at her apartment with the meal I dropped off at noon — and Rosa was in New Haven, Sofía was studying, Miguel Jr. and Jenny were at Jenny's parents' place. So it was two of us at the table. I made ropa vieja because it reheats beautifully and because we would have three nights of it. Eduardo ate a full plate. We ate mostly in silence.

Year 7 of the blog. I am retired. My mother is dying. My youngest is a nurse-in-training. My son has a baby with a smile like my dead father. My kitchen is smaller and fuller than ever. This is the shape of this year. Wepa.

None of the recipes I share here exist in a vacuum — they come from a week, from a phone call, from a Wednesday at 5 AM when someone who loves you does not know where you are. This week I am sharing a beef dish that carries the same spirit as what I made for Eduardo and me on Sunday: slow, deliberate, built for reheating, built for a table that is smaller than it used to be. The peanut sauce here is rich the way a long braise is rich — it coats everything, it holds everything together, and it tastes better the next day than the day you made it. That felt right for this particular week, for this particular year.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes (plus 2 hours marinating) | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs flank steak or skirt steak, sliced thin against the grain into 1-inch strips
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon fish sauce
1 tablespoon brown sugar
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon turmeric
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon vegetable oil, plus more for grilling
Wooden or metal skewers
For the peanut sauce:
1/2 cup creamy peanut butter
3 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 tablespoon honey
1 teaspoon chili garlic paste or sriracha, to taste
1 clove garlic, minced
1/3 cup warm water, to thin
Fresh cilantro and sliced scallions, for serving

Instructions

Marinate the beef. In a bowl, whisk together soy sauce, fish sauce, brown sugar, cumin, coriander, turmeric, garlic, and oil. Add the sliced beef and toss to coat thoroughly. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or overnight if you have the time.
Soak skewers. If using wooden skewers, soak them in cold water for at least 30 minutes before cooking to prevent burning.
Make the peanut sauce. Whisk together peanut butter, soy sauce, lime juice, honey, chili garlic paste, and garlic in a small bowl. Add warm water a little at a time, whisking until the sauce is smooth and pourable. Taste and adjust salt, heat, and lime as needed. Set aside at room temperature.
Thread the beef. Thread the marinated beef strips onto skewers in a loose S-shape so the meat lies relatively flat and cooks evenly.
Cook the satay. Heat a grill pan or outdoor grill over high heat and brush lightly with oil. Cook skewers 2—3 minutes per side until lightly charred and cooked through. Do not crowd the pan — work in batches so the meat sears rather than steams.
Rest and serve. Let the skewers rest 3—4 minutes. Arrange on a platter, drizzle generously with peanut sauce, and scatter cilantro and scallions over the top. Serve remaining sauce on the side for dipping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Beef Satay with Peanut Sauce — When the Table Is Quiet and the Pot Is Full