Scientists tell us that the tough connective tissue in a hunk of meat
dissolves into a succulent sort of gelatin when it's cooked nice and
slow, preferably in a rich stock that heats the meat evenly and imparts
its flavor at the same time; all we know is that a lovingly braised pot
roast is a robust yet tender taste of heaven. And when the stock is
made up primarily of wine, as God and Julia Child intended, you've got
yourself a daube, one of the glories of French country cooking.
Rendez-Vous, a rambunctiously Gallic cafe/bistro along chic Solano
Avenue, simmers together a daube de boeuf as soul-stirring as
any good cassoulet or clafoutis. After a nice long
marinade in fresh herbs and vin rouge, the meat is cooked in a
daubiere (casserole) with plenty of sweet, earthy carrots until
silky and juicy: a rich, fragrant, fulfilling meal, dreamy on its bed
of pillowy mashed potatoes.