beer-braised shortrib open-faced sandwiches

When I was in 9th grade, we had a student teacher in my English class from UNC-Greensboro who did the following things:
1. Read a dirty poem about the morning after a one-night stand.
2. Included this question on a test about Flowers for Algernon- How does the following passage relate to the cave allegory in Book VII of Plato’s Republic?
When someone raised their hand and said she hadn’t read Plato’s Republic, he asked “How many of you haven’t read Republic?” When everyone in the class raised their hands, he was genuinely stunned. He was all “Really?! None of you?! Republic?!” This was a 9th grade English class. In a public school. In Greensboro, North Carolina.
3. Assigned us to pick a poem to read aloud to the class, then ripped on me for choosing “Gunga Din.”
4. Assigned us to read a science fiction story (maybe this story is famous, it didn’t turn up right away in my google search) about a robot who guards this amazing treasure. People try to get into the treasure-hoard, he asks for the passwords, they say the wrong thing, he kills them. Then, this one guy goes and when the robot asks for the passwords, he just says some random words. The robot lets him in. The guy keeps going back to get more of the treasure and doing the same thing. Then one time, he goes back and he’s saying the random words and two of the words in the list are “elephant” and “voluminous.” SPOILER ALERT: The robot shoots him with the laser. Right before he dies the guy realizes he made a mistake because elephants are voluminous, so the list wasn’t totally random. The student teacher assigned us to write a paper explaining the story’s relationship to Zen Buddhism.

At the time, I just accepted all this because I was a kid and I was used to teachers making me do a bunch of stuff I didn’t want to do or making us do things that seemed really bizarre. To my mind it was no different than the gym teacher making us square dance for nine weeks. In retrospect, though, I wonder, what did the real teacher make of all this? And why didn’t she step in?

Was it related to Zen Buddhism because the robot’s question was a koan and the guys were getting it wrong by trying to think of an answer while this other guy got it right by not thinking of an answer and just intuiting it until he got it wrong by accidentally thinking about it? That’s the best I can come up with now, all these years later, and I’ve been to college. I guess I don’t really understand Zen.

However, sometimes I think I have one up on these Zen guys, so it all balances out. To wit:

One day Banzan was walking through a market. He overheard a customer say to a butcher “Give me the best piece of meat you have.” “Everything in my shop is the best,” replied the butcher. “You can not find any piece of meat that is not the best.” At these words, Banzan was enlightened.

Now, I imagine that Banzan was enlightened considering the paradox of the butcher’s statement. It’s all the best. But I’ve got some bad news for all you Zen Buddhists about your precious Banzan. There was no paradox. It really is all the best. That butcher doesn’t know how good a cook the guy is. He could sell him a nice filet and the guy could take it home and overcook it which is really easy to do. He could sell him something cheaper and the guy could take it home and braise it and it’s almost impossible to mess it up.

We made some braised oxtails a few weeks ago that were one of my favorite things I’ve eaten in the past year. And that’s just the tail. Another awesome thing we’ve had recently that came from a cheap cut of meat was beer-braised short ribs on an open faced sandwich. It’s really easy. It’s practically impossible to mess up, and it tastes fantastic:

Beer-Braised Short Ribs on an Open Faced Sandwich

short ribs- We had about a pound and a half.
beer- I used Brooklyn pilsner because that what we had and it turned out fine, but it would be better with something darker
1 onion
salt
pepper
crusty bread

Put some salt and pepper on the meat and get dutch oven or a heavy duty pot going on high heat on the stove top with a little oil in it.

When you think the oil is probably hot, touch a little corner of the meat to the oil. If it sizzles, you’re ready to go. Brown it on all sides.

While the meat is browning, chop up an onion.

Set the meat aside. Turn the heat down to medium. Throw in the onion for about 4 miutes or so, stirring occasionally. Put the meat back in. Open the beer and pour about half of it in. More or less. It doesn’t need to be swimming in it and you can always add more later.

Let it go for a minute or so, then turn the heat down to low and cover.

If you have any herbs you want to throw in there, do it.

Check it every half hour or so to make sure you’ve still got plenty of liquid. Add more beer if you need to.

The longer you can let this thing go the better, but give it at least 3 hours.

Pull the meat and let it sit for a few minutes. While the meat is sitting, crank the heat to reduce the liquid in the pan. Taste it and add salt and pepper if need be. Mustard would probably be good to add to this liquid, too. We didn’t do it that way, but I’ll bet it would be good. Turn the heat off when it’s looking pretty thick.

Pull the meat from the bones, put on a thick slice of bread, pour the liquid over it and you’re done.