In 2013, Chanukah arrived exceptionally early, obliging homemakers and cooks to comingle Thanksgiving, the quintessential fall holiday, with the definitively wintry festival of lights. Cooking magazines, culinary columns, and food networks put on quite a display, as though the melding of two entirely different gastronomic experiences was a wondrous opportunity to demonstrate inventive menus.

Sweet-potato latkes topped with cranberry sauce appeared next to challah-stuffed roast turkeys in an unprecedented merger of dishes that should never meet on the same plate, let alone on the same day. And while network programs and newspaper recipes danced around in a frenzy of innovative spunkiness, traditionalists quietly cringed.

The inescapable truth is that at the center of every holiday is the table. And the heartwarming nostalgia we associate with the long trek home from college or a drive in slow-moving traffic is inextricably connected to the smells and tastes of the familiar. Turkey and stuffing belong to those Indian corn-colored November days. And mom’s brisket and latkes are intrinsically linked with early sunsets, the dancing lights of the menorah, and a biting wind that just might bring a dusting of snow to seal that holiday feel.

This year, each holiday is back to its proper position. The turkey has come and gone, [ok to publish before Thanksgiving?] the trees are bare, and the department stores are bustling. The New Year approaches, snow shovels lean on porches, and kitchens are churning out the smells and tastes of holiday homecomings. And while my daughters still don’t particularly understand a good game of dreidel, they would lecture me on the sacrosanct traditions of Chanukah if the dinner menu did not feature my brisket.

The most delicious, tender brisket is also a cook’s dream. Two weeks before you’ve even started to hunt for the Chanukah candles or wrap presents, the entr?e is cooked to perfection, sliced, submerged in a delectable gravy, and frozen in an attractive, oven-to-table casserole.

There is not, and will never be, a shortcut to perfect latkes. They are messy, labor-intensive, and inevitably vanish before they ever reach the table. But with the entire main course at your manicured fingertips, the rest of the meal will be a breeze. Make-ahead, buttery soft brisket will put a whole new spin on your Chanukah dinner!

For this recipe, I used a three-pound cut of particularly lean, grass-fed brisket. Served with a variety of accompanying side dishes, there was plenty of meat, enough to send home with the daughters. If your cut has an excess of fat, trim away enough to leave just a thin coating of the fat. After cooking and cooling, the rest of the fat–including that inner layer–will be easy to remove.

Chanukah Brisket for Four

What You Need:

1 three-pound piece of lean brisket

8 cloves garlic

1 ½ cups cleaned and chopped leeks (typically one leek)

1 ½ cups chopped celery (about three long stalks)

4 large onions, chopped

1 large carrot, pared and cut into quarters. Carrots do not freeze well and will be removed.

1 cup beef stock, simmered with one clove and one bay leaf

2 additional bay leaves

1 cup white wine

½ cup fresh chopped herbs: rosemary, oregano, thyme, parsley

Salt and pepper to taste

Water

A large skillet to brown the meat

A large, deep freezer-safe casserole

Aluminum foil to cover the casserole

Note: I used a wide, deep cast-iron enamelware Dutch oven, which serves perfectly to brown the meat and bake with the cover on. Enamelware moves beautifully from the oven to the freezer, back to the oven and directly to the table.

Your choice of thickener: cornstarch, arrowroot, or a simple roux made with flour. Arrowroot is an excellent choice given the number of people who have corn and gluten sensitivity.

What To Do:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Make sure the racks are positioned to accommodate a high-sided casserole or Dutch oven with cover.

Trim away excess fat from the brisket. Season with salt and pepper and brown each side, using either a skillet or the Dutch oven.

Transfer the meat to the casserole. Add the onions, celery, leeks, carrots, garlic, fresh herbs and two additional bay leaves to the casserole or Dutch oven. Add the white wine, beef stock (without the clove or bay leaf), and enough water to cover the meat.

Cover with foil or lid and place in oven. Slow-cook for six hours or until a fork inserts easily but the meat is still firm enough to hold its shape.

When brisket is done, transfer the meat to a smaller casserole. Use a slotted spoon to transfer the aromatics to another container, and pour the cooking stock into a third container. Cover the containers with lids or with plastic wrap and chill overnight.

The next day, trim away any excess fat from the brisket. Slice the cold meat against the grain. I slice my brisket about ¼ to ½ inch thick. Place the meat into the casserole or leave on a plate if you are using the Dutch oven to reduce the stock.

Remove the solidified fat from the cooking stock. Return the stock to the Dutch oven or pour into a pot. Bring to a low boil, then down to a simmer. Reduce the stock, thicken and adjust seasoning to make the gravy. If you find that you have savory stock in overplus, ladle some into a container and freeze for future use when you need beef stock.

Remove the carrot chunks and the bay leaves from the aromatics. Always count your bay leaves: three in means three out. Check for broken pieces. Never serve a dish with the bay leaves at large. They are a choking hazard.

If you are using the Dutch oven to make the gravy, gently add the sliced brisket, then the aromatics. If using a casserole, place the sliced meat into the casserole, cover with the aromatics, then pour over the gravy.

Cover tightly with plastic wrap and then foil, and place in the freezer. The night before your holiday dinner, move the casserole to the refrigerator to thaw. Remove the plastic wrap and re-cover with foil or the lid to the Dutch oven. Reheat in a 375-degree oven.

The freezing process renders the meat even more tender. With the meat done in advance, you can turn your attention to your family and guests and enjoy a frazzle-free, relaxing holiday dinner… that is, after you’ve fried up a few dozen latkes.

By Lisa Reitman-Dobi