Christmas in the Kitchen
Todd and I spent five days with my parents for Christmas this year, and I spent a lot of time baking "with" my mom. I put "with" in quotes because my mom does not like to cook or bake. The first time this was really driven home was when we set out to make peanut blossoms. (The recipe we used came out kind of crumby, so I won't transcribe it here; my mom couldn't remember which recipe she's used in the past. Even though they were tasty and did disappear, we decided that next time we'll use the recipe on the Hershey's Kisses package.) She got a phone call around the time we started rolling cookies and abandoned me.
Next was the lemon poppyseed bread that she wanted to make for friends. I made it while she was out shopping. (And forgot to put the poppyseeds in the dough, so I sprinkled them on top. They were mini loaves so it didn't matter much.)
Even Christmas day she managed to be out of the kitchen for a good portion of the time, setting up the tables and tracking down cutlery and tablecloths. (I may have lost it a little bit right before dinnertime on Christmas day. I guess I can't stand the heat sometimes.)
The thing is, she knows I love to do this stuff, and I always volunteer. I guess I've read too many of those stories, where the writer reminisces about standing on a stool next to his/her mother, elbow-deep in flour, cutting out cookies, beating butter, sneaking a bit of the dough or licking the beaters. I've idealized baking with someone, so I strive for that Norman Rockwell picture.
When I think about it, though, I realize I kind of got that this year. In our own less-than-perfect way, my family spent a lot of time together in the kitchen: gossiping over a second glass of wine with my parents, complaining with my brother while he assembles the vegetable tray (which I call "crudité" to my family's amusement), making coffee with my dad in the early morning, talking with my mom as we prep about what a great cook her mother was (my mom's mom got sick when I was very young, so all I remember is a wheelchair-bound grandma who always gave me bubble bath for Christmas and loved Lawrence Welk - the bubbles from the show and my bath seem to be linked in my memory).
It was a good holiday. I love this stuff.
The liquid that the meat gave off may have been due to overcrowding the meat in the pan. You should have browned the meat in smaller batches so that the cubes don't touch each other as they brown. 2 cups of red wine would probably have been too much wine, especially for a quick stew. I think your use of a little wine vinegar was a great substitute for the acid of the wine. Next time use it earlier in the recipe to deglaze the pan and to let the acid work on the meat longer. Good job!