Cajun-Style Pot Roast

Father's Day. The first one without Larry. I did not know what to do with it, so I did what I always do with things I do not know what to do with: I cooked. I made a pot roast — Larry's favorite, the Sunday dinner he came home to when he came home, which was not every Sunday but was enough Sundays that pot roast means Larry to me the way chocolate sheet cake means Darla. The smell of it in the slow cooker all morning was a time machine, and I let it take me, because some time machines you do not fight.

Dave is not Larry, and Father's Day for Dave is simpler — the kids gave him cards, Tyler gave him a socket set he bought with his own money from helping at the truck stop, and Dave's face when he opened it was the face of a man who has just been given the only thing he ever wanted, which is to be seen by his son as someone worth emulating. Dave is not a man who needs gifts. He needs to be necessary. The socket set said: you are necessary. Dave put it in his toolbox and did not say much, which is Dave's highest form of emotion.

Justin was quiet all day. Father's Day is complicated for Justin, whose biological father killed his mother and then himself, and whose adoptive father is a good man who fixes trucks and shows up every single day, and the distance between those two fathers is the distance Justin travels every day inside his own head. I did not push. I sat next to him on the porch after dinner and we watched the fireflies come out, and he said thanks, Mom, which could have meant anything, and I decided it meant everything.

The pot roast was perfect. Falling apart, the way pot roast should. Potatoes and carrots and onions in the broth, the whole house smelling like Sunday even though it was Sunday. The kids ate in the dining room because Father's Day is a dining room day, not a kitchen counter day. We used the good plates. Larry would have said the good plates are a waste. Larry would have been wrong.

This is the recipe I made that day — or close enough to it that my heart recognized it. I’ve been making pot roast for so long that I’ve layered my own seasonings into it over the years, and the Cajun spice blend here is exactly the kind of low-and-slow, fill-the-whole-house magic I needed on a day that was equal parts grief and gratitude. If you’re cooking this for someone worth honoring — and I hope you are — put it in the slow cooker in the morning, get out the good plates, and let the smell do the work.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 8 hrs | Total Time: 8 hrs 20 min | Servings: 6–8

Ingredients

3 to 4 lb beef chuck roast
2 teaspoons Cajun seasoning
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 medium yellow onion, roughly chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 lb baby potatoes, halved
3 large carrots, peeled and cut into 2-inch pieces
2 stalks celery, sliced
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes with green chilies, undrained
1 cup beef broth
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon tomato paste
2 bay leaves

Instructions

Season the roast. Pat the chuck roast dry with paper towels. In a small bowl, combine the Cajun seasoning, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Rub the spice mixture all over the surface of the roast.
Sear the beef. Heat the vegetable oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Sear the roast for 3–4 minutes per side until a deep brown crust forms. Transfer the roast to the insert of a 6-quart slow cooker.
Build the base. In the same skillet, add the onion and cook for 2 minutes until slightly softened, scraping up any browned bits. Add the garlic and cook 30 seconds more. Stir in the tomato paste and cook for 1 minute.
Add the liquid. Pour in the beef broth, diced tomatoes with green chilies, and Worcestershire sauce. Stir to combine, then pour the mixture over the roast in the slow cooker.
Add the vegetables. Tuck the potatoes, carrots, celery, and bay leaves around and on top of the roast.
Slow cook. Cover and cook on LOW for 7–8 hours, or on HIGH for 4–5 hours, until the beef is completely tender and falling apart when pressed with a fork.
Rest and serve. Discard the bay leaves. Transfer the roast to a cutting board and let it rest for 5 minutes before pulling it apart with two forks. Serve the beef with the vegetables and spoon the broth over everything.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cajun-Style Pot Roast — The Sunday Dinner That Still Means Larry