Stroganov’s Expanded Upon Beef Stroganoff

When a dish is as simple as beef Stroganoff it’s hard to sift through the claims of invention. It’s sliced beef in sour sauce. Cut away all the variations and that’s what’s left. Not exactly splitting the atom.

Every town in Italy that can attach an “-ese” to the end of its name invented Minestrone. “Before us, there was no boiling water with vegetables in it!” they boast. “Dopo di noi, il diliziosa!” It’s chaos. Multiple Italian claims would have plagued meat sauce too, but the wily Bolognese, as a condition of submitting to Papal rule in 1506, insisted that all pasta sauces made with beef and tomatoes throughout Christendom be referred to as “Bolognese,” increasing their opportunity to sneer “That’s not real Bolognese.”

Alexander Grigorievich Stroganov (1795-1891) is likely who the dish is named for though there are other claimants. One story tells that Grigory Alexandrovich Stroganov’s (1770-1857) chef made a dish of minced meat because his master’s teeth were either gone or in such a state that chewing was out. Another says a chef attending to Pavel Alexandrovich Stroganov (1774-1817) served julienned beef in sauce because the meat was so frozen it could only be shaved into ribbons. But it was Alexander Grigorievich Stroganov (1795-1891) who may have popularized the dish in Odessa, freeing it from aristocratic trappings, letting it mingle with common dishes of sliced beef in sour sauce where it could sneer, “That’s not real me.”

(1795-1891) Stroganov gave alms to the moderately well off and comfortable. This is a fascinating concept. Per the Moscow Times: “An exceptionally wealthy man, Stroganov kept an ‘open table’ in Odesa in accordance with the customs at the time. This meant that any educated or decently dressed person could come in for dinner right ‘off the street.’” It’s like a restrictive bread and circus; “Free food for the masses, coat and tie required.”

As anyone who’s ever cooked for to-be-determined numbers can attest, cutting meats into smaller pieces makes for easier portion control. (1795-1891)’s chef’s version of sliced beef in sour sauce was popular and the Stroganov name, now attached to the dish, spread.

A lot of sources credit Charles Briere, a St. Petersburg based French chef who sent a recipe for “Stroganoff” to “L’Art Culinaire” the year (1795-1891) died, because he sent a recipe for “Stroganoff” to “L’Art Culinaire” the year (1795-1891) died, but the first known print mention of “Beef Strogonov” is in an 1870s revision of Elena Molokhovets’s Gift for Young Housewives.

We eat it on egg noodles because the recipe made its way to China where serving it over egg noodles was preferred. It was picked up by travelers or carried by Chinese immigrants to the United States where it popped up now and again, but it wasn’t until GIs returned from WWII’s Pacific theater that beef Stroganoff’s popularity exploded. I’ve read the Russians eat it over French fried or similar potatoes if anything at all, and this is where I get stuck.

“Traditional” implies legacy and “Customary” prevalence. I believe sliced beef in sour sauce has probably been eaten with potatoes in Russia and egg noodles in China since before I’d care to guess, but what is implied as an accompaniment with the name “Stroganoff?” The Russian way is traditional; they’ve been calling it that longer. The Chinese way should be more common because they have the population to skew anything they want. It’s like saying that English is traditionally spoken with a British accent. True, but more English speakers send their taxes to New Delhi than to London. Throw in Canberra and Ottowa and you still haven’t matched India in volume. We’re not a plurality in the U.S., but we have more people mangling Shakespeare (or not) than anyone else. Tradition’s supposed to sound like Churchill and actors playing mythological Greek heroes, but custom twangs.

Have your Stroganoff either way. The recipe doesn’t discriminate, but I prefer the traditional potatoes. I hath a soft spot for anachronism.

The free grub at (1795-1891)’s place was probably pared down in comparison but here’s my version, played with and tweaked over the years.

Beef Stroganoff

• 1 ½ lbs. beef stew meat
• 1 yellow onion, sliced
• 8 oz. mushrooms, button or crimini, sliced
• 3-4 cloves garlic, smashed or minced
• 1 ½ cup dry white wine
• pinch grated nutmeg
• 6 oz. sour cream or crème fraiche
• handful Italian parsley, chopped
• 6-8 sprigs thyme, leaves only
• pinch cayenne or dash Tabasco, optional
• cornstarch if needed
• olive oil
• kosher salt to taste
• French fries

All measurements are approximations. A little more or less of anything won’t break it.

Pour a few glugs of olive oil into a Dutch oven or similar over medium-high heat. Pause for a few moments while the oil heats up to consider the assonance in that last sentence.

“Glugs” hits again with “Dutch.” “Olive” to “oil” to “oven” to “over.” “medium” to “heat” which is tied alliteratively to “high.” The “d” in “Dutch” and “medium” after “few” ties to “of.” “Pour” isn’t pulling its weight, but otherwise…

When the oil is hot, liberally salt the meat and lightly brown.

Pull the meat out of the pan, lightly wipe out grease if needed and add a bit more oil.

Add the onions to sweat.

After 5 or so minutes, add the mushrooms and stir for 5 to 10 minutes until the mushrooms soften a bit.

Put the meat back in with the garlic and nutmeg, stir, and sauté for another minute or 2.

Pour in the wine, about half a bottle, add the herbs, and bring to a boil then reduce to a simmer and cook for 5 minutes.

If you need to thicken it, add a tiny bit of cornstarch, stir, and repeat until you get the consistency you want, knowing that cream has yet to be added. If you are using cayenne or Tabasco, add now to taste.

I started with about 4 ounces of crème fraiche, tasted, decided I wanted richer and added another rough 2 ounces. I’d start with less than you think you’ll need as well. You can always add more.

Turn up the heat to reduce if you like and, as always, check for salt, but otherwise, you’re done. It’ll hold at a simmer for 10 or 15 minutes as long as you stir every so often, though you may need to refresh it with a splash of water or wine.

Serve over fries. Enjoy.

I should mention that most Stroganoff recipes call for mustard, but such is my relationship with condiments that I either like them, or I think they should be cast to hell. Mustard is not the worst, but it’s damn horrible. Add it when you add crème or toss the beef in it before browning if you want to ruin dinner more subtly.