A few months after my husband, Justin, and I started dating, I found out that he didn’t like anchovies. If this doesn’t mean anything to you, imagine a partner saying they don’t like fuzzy kittens or warm weather or Ina Garten. It was just the sort of side-comment that made me wonder.
But we had been friends for years and just moved in together and I loved him. So I tried to be rational: This isn’t a reason to break up with someone, I told myself. You can make this work, I told myself. And of course we did.
Nowadays, Justin loves anchovies. We add them to butter and spread it on toast, toss them with olive oil–fried breadcrumbs, stir them into tomato sauce, and mash them into salad dressing. All of which to say, after cooking hundreds (thousands?) of meals together, Justin’s eating habits have become more like mine.
And mine have become more like his, too. I struggled with body image issues ever since I was a teenager—but living with Justin, who is lucky to have a completely healthy relationship with food, helped me let go of those habits, and learn how to love cooking and baking while also loving my body.
Of course, it’s not all anchovies and rainbows. This is inevitable when you’re two different people, who are almost always eating the same thing. Justin used to eat meat most meals of the day; now we sometimes eat meat and rely on vegetables and other proteins, like eggs and tofu, instead. I used to never make pizza at home and, over the years, it’s become one of our favorite date night meals. He still loves meaty comfort foods, and I still feel fatigued by how rich they are.
But, it’s all about compromise. Which is why we’re constantly tweaking recipes, changing a little of this, or a lot of that. We don’t always pull it off (sometimes, we really do just make the dish worse, or one of us loves it and the other hates it). But when we get it right, we get it right, and the best part is sitting down to dinner and realizing I love it and Justin loves it and thinking, Wow! Everything really is better when we’re together.
That’s how we ended up here—beef Stroganoff. It’s usually heavy on the meat and sour cream, which Justin loves. This version goes heavy on the vegetables and swaps in Greek yogurt, which I love. It’s cozy and comforting, which we both love. Especially if we’re on the couch, under a blanket with a bottle of red nearby.
A New Way To Beef Stroganoff
Beef Stroganoff is all about the beef, right? Wrong. My favorite way to have meat is as an accent ingredient, which is why this recipe, for a hungry two people, only calls for five ounces of it. If you’re like Justin, who finishes half-pound burgers at restaurants like it’s no big deal, you might be shocked by this. But, don’t be. It’ll all work out. Here, we’re using sirloin steak—cubing it, searing it until crusty, setting it aside, and stirring it in at the very end. Not only does this avoid the long braise time required for a tougher cut, but it keeps the meat tender and plump.
I use ten ounces, which is, yes, twice the amount of beef. I go for creminis (aka baby portabellas) because they have a nice, meaty texture. And I like quartering and searing them, which yields a similar size and crust as the beef. Once they’re both tossed in the sauce, you can barely tell the difference.
Some beef Stroganoffs only include mushrooms and onions. This one also has carrots, parsnips, and scallions. The carrot and parsnip remind me of the wintry beef stews my mom made when I was growing up—and help underscore that it’s cold outside and I want to be cozy. The scallion adds some greenery and oniony flavor. (And there’s garlic, too, because of course.)
Beef Stroganoff should be made with beef stock, but as Serious Eats’ J. Kenji López-Alt informed me, “Most boxed or canned beef broth contains almost no beef at all.” Which means if you’re using boxed, opt for chicken instead. Or, buy Better than Bouillon (either chicken or beef) and make a quickie “stock” yourself. Or, if you’re using homemade, look at you!
Most beef Stroganoffs stir in sour cream at the end—very tangy, very rich. I like the brighter flavor of Greek yogurt—plus, I always have it on hand. Just remember to pull the yogurt from the fridge an hourish before you start cooking; if it’s still cold when you stir it into the stew, it could curdle.
This is one ingredient that Justin and I totally agree about: If you aren’t spooning beef Stroganoff onto buttered egg noodles, what’s the point? I use salted butter for its funkier, deeper flavor, and lots and lots of parsley tossed in.
• 2 tablespoons vegetable (or other high-heat, neutral-flavor) oil, divided
• 5 ounces sirloin steak, cubed (½-inch)
• 10 ounces cremini mushrooms, quartered (stems still attached)
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 large carrot (about 7 ounces), finely diced (about 1 ½ cups)
• 1 large parsnip (about 7 ounces), finely diced (about 1 ½ cups)
• 1 medium yellow onion (about 8 ounces), finely diced (about 1 ½ cups)
• 6 scallions, finely chopped (both the white and green parts)
• 2 large garlic cloves, minced
• 1 1/2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• 2 cups beef or chicken stock (see headnote)
• 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
• 2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar
• 1 teaspoon prepared horseradish
• 1/4 cup whole-milk Greek yogurt, room temperature, plus more to taste
See the full recipe on Food52.
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