Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. The way they go in this house: church at seven on the Eve, then home for oyster stew — Mom's family tradition, New England roots, small oysters in a cream broth with celery salt and a little sherry for the adults, a spoonful of butter floating on top. I have this once a year, only on Christmas Eve, and that limitation is part of what makes it the thing it is.
Christmas morning: coffee before anyone speaks, which is the only rule of the holiday as far as Dad is concerned. Then gifts, which in this family means one or two things chosen with care — nothing extravagant, nothing wasteful. Dad gave me a book on equine biomechanics I'd mentioned once in passing; I gave him new work gloves to replace the insulated pair I'd left on the bench a few months back. Neither of us said anything about what the gloves meant. He put them on immediately and wore them the rest of the day.
The prime rib came out well. I added horseradish cream this year, which I made by combining prepared horseradish with sour cream and lemon and a little Dijon. Tom Whelan came for dinner again, brought a fruitcake that he'd made himself, which was better than fruitcake has any right to be. He'd soaked the fruit in orange juice rather than brandy, mentioned it to me privately when he handed it over. I told him it was the best version of fruitcake I'd had. He said that wasn't a high bar. I said he was right and we both agreed it was still good.
Dad had a good day. Slower than previous years, but present. He sat by the woodstove after dinner and Mom played records — she still has the record player and a collection of albums from the 1960s and 70s — and for a while everything felt like exactly what it was and nothing more complicated than that. I try to notice those moments when they're happening rather than only recognizing them afterward. I'm getting better at it.
The prime rib this year was the anchor of the whole day — the thing everything else orbited around — and it made me want to write down a version that’s a little more forgiving, something you can pull together without a meat thermometer and a prayer. This Mediterranean Pot Roast captures that same spirit: a serious, slow-cooked beef roast that fills the house with exactly the right smell, leaves room for horseradish cream on the side, and gives you the kind of dinner that earns the woodstove hour afterward. It’s the recipe I’ll be reaching for when the day calls for something that tastes like it meant something.
Mediterranean Pot Roast Dinner
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 3 hours 30 minutes | Total Time: 3 hours 50 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 3 to 3 1/2 lbs beef chuck roast
- 1 1/2 tsp kosher salt, divided
- 1 tsp black pepper, divided
- 2 tbsp olive oil
- 1 medium yellow onion, roughly chopped
- 4 cloves garlic, smashed
- 2 tbsp tomato paste
- 1 cup dry red wine
- 1 1/2 cups beef broth
- 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, with juices
- 1 tsp dried oregano
- 1 tsp dried thyme
- 1/2 tsp smoked paprika
- 1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
- 3 medium carrots, cut into 2-inch pieces
- 3 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, quartered
- 1/2 cup Kalamata olives, pitted
- 2 tbsp fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for serving
Instructions
- Preheat and season. Preheat your oven to 325°F. Pat the chuck roast dry with paper towels and season all over with 1 tsp salt and 3/4 tsp black pepper.
- Sear the roast. Heat olive oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the roast and sear, undisturbed, for 4–5 minutes per side until a deep brown crust forms. Transfer the roast to a plate and set aside.
- Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add the onion to the pot and cook, stirring occasionally, for 3–4 minutes until softened. Add the garlic and tomato paste and cook another minute, stirring constantly, until the paste darkens slightly.
- Deglaze and add liquids. Pour in the red wine and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Simmer for 2 minutes. Add the beef broth, diced tomatoes, oregano, thyme, smoked paprika, red pepper flakes, and remaining 1/2 tsp salt and 1/4 tsp pepper. Stir to combine.
- Braise the roast. Return the roast to the pot, nestling it into the liquid. The liquid should come about halfway up the roast. Bring to a gentle simmer, then cover with a tight-fitting lid and transfer to the oven. Braise for 2 hours.
- Add the vegetables. Remove the pot from the oven. Add the carrots and potatoes around the roast, tucking them into the braising liquid. Replace the lid and return to the oven for an additional 1 to 1 1/2 hours, until the roast is fork-tender and the vegetables are cooked through.
- Finish with olives. Stir in the Kalamata olives and let the pot sit, covered, off the heat for 10 minutes. Skim any excess fat from the surface of the braising liquid if desired.
- Serve. Transfer the roast to a cutting board and slice or pull apart with two forks. Arrange the meat and vegetables on a serving platter or in wide bowls, spoon the braising juices generously over the top, and finish with fresh parsley.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 520 | Protein: 42g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 780mg