Pantry challenges

So...it's been awhile since I posted anything.   The husband moved out not too long after I started the blog, so I didn't really do much updating.  I'm getting more creative in the kitchen, and dating a man who doesn't mind being a guinea pig for my new recipes, so I thought I'd give this a whirl again.

I moved about three months ago.  In the process of moving, I had to box up the pantry.  Oy!  Where did all those condiments come from?  Rather than throw things out, I challenged myself to use up these jars of  gourmet oddities.  I've also been challenging myself to use my crockpot more, and to find creative ways to use the roasts that come with the side of grass-fed beef I get every year.  So...my first post in a very long time will hit all three of those goals. 

I my pantry was this jar of caramelized onion confit.  It sounded good at the time I bought it.  So...what do to with it?  Pulled out the crockpot, sliced some roast into fairly thin slices, dumped in the confit.   Debated whether to leave it at that, or add some liquid.  There was a single-serve bottle of red Moscato in the cabinet, and you can never have too much wine, so I put that in, and let it cook on low for the entire day.   Then it got transported to The Loft, where it was to be dinner for me and The Guy.  When I got there, I put it on the stove, tossed in some frozen broccoli and some more wine, and let it simmer for a bit.

The end result:  We got distracted and left it simmering too long, so the broccoli was mushy, but the extra simmer didn't seem to hurt anything else.  I loved it.  The wine and the carmelized onion confit melded together to make a semi-sweet sauce that was really good.  (it was even better cold the next day - don't ask).  The Guy, on the other hand, likes neither wine, nor sweet stuff, so he didn't like it as much.  However, I do have to make the comment that even if he doesn't like what I've cooked, he has the good manners to eat it anyway, and express appreciation for the cook.  His mama apparently raised him properly, even if he did spend most of his formative years as a yankee in upstate New York.