Sergio reminds me of someone, only I can’t remember who: a film star, a schoolteacher, the man at the garage two doors down? This fact has been niggling me for the past two years, ever since he opened what is now the third-best stall in the market, in my opinion, after my fruit-and-vegetable stall and my butcher. The idea is so obvious and brilliant that it seems extraordinary that nobody had thought of it before: to make traditional Roman dishes, like boiled beef, chicken with tomato sauce, boiled tongue with green sauce, or oxtail stew, and serve them in sandwiches. He has been lauded with prizes and praise but the best reward is the sure sign of decent grub in Rome: a constant and dedicated queue of students, workers, suits, journalists, locals, and tourists who wait patiently and impatiently for his sandwiches every lunchtime.
I find it almost impossible to order anything except his boiled beef sandwich, which might sound plain but is actually a wonderful thing consisting of beef cooked for hours with masses of aromatics until it is falling apart, tenderly squashed between a soft, flat roll that has been dipped in meat broth. It is elemental, visceral, satisfying food, best eaten sitting on a bench in the sun looking up at the urban wilderness capping Monte Testaccio. When people visit me in Rome and I take them to all my most trusted places (Cesare, La Torricella, La Gatta Mangiona), I also take them here, and it’s often the place they talk about most. What’s even more fitting is how similar this boiled beef is to the one made by Grandma Roddy and Auntie May, who coincidentally also served sandwiches to hungry and particular regulars at the pub. Their beef, though, wasn’t destined for sandwiches, but for a warm plate with a few boiled potatoes, which you would mash with the back of your fork so they provided a bed for the meat broth and a soft partner for the meat.
The recipe that follows is a hybrid of the two, and can be served both ways: for lunch and dinner with carrots and boiled potatoes, and the next day, when the beef is even better, served as Sergio does, stuffed in a bread roll that you have dipped in the broth and with a very cold beer.
serves 4 for lunch, with leftovers for 2 sandwiches
3¼ pounds beef brisket in one piece
a bunch of flat-leaf parsley
3 celery stalks, chopped into large pieces
8 carrots
6 small onions
2 bay leaves
3 black peppercorns
salt
Put the meat in a pan large enough to accommodate it with all the vegetables and cover it with cold water. Bring to a boil, skim off any scum that rises to the top, and add the parsley, celery, one of the carrots, one of the onions, the bay leaves, peppercorns, and a big pinch of salt. Reduce the heat to a very gentle simmer and cook for about 4 hours.
After 3 hours, add the rest of the onions and carrots. After about 3½ hours, prod the meat with a knife to see how it’s doing; it should be very tender. Check the vegetables too, which should be soft; if they feel done before the meat is, remove them and keep simmering the meat very gently.
To serve it with potatoes: since the meat is best kept in its broth, I would serve it up on warmed plates in the kitchen, giving everyone a couple of slices of beef (it won’t cut neatly), a couple of carrots, an onion, some plain boiled potatoes, cooked separately, and a ladle of broth.
To serve it in sandwiches: gently reheat the meat in a smaller pan with some of the broth. Once the meat is just warm, split open a bread roll, spoon a little broth on one side, lay over a couple of raggy slices of beef, season with salt, put on the lid, squash into manageability, and eat.