Baking humble pie for birthday

This week's recipe should be for humble pie.
That's the dish served up when you forget your wife's birthday, which I did last week.
I have previously revealed in this column how my wife likes to build up slowly to her birthday with a series of small presents during the preceding week.
As a consequence my wife had advanced warning of my absent-mindedness, and was able to watch the disaster unfold in slow motion.
The awful dawning of truth came the evening before. We were visiting some friends and, as we were leaving, one of them casually asked my wife if she had a birthday coming up soon.
The blood drained from my face, a cold trickle of fear slithered down what passes for a spine, and a hard lump of apprehension set in my stomach.
On the way home I desperately wracked my brains for a way out. I had no time left to go shopping, and anyway no shops were open.
There was nothing at home I could quickly wrap and pretend was her present. I couldn't possibly convince her that I intended this year's gifting programme to start the day after her birthday.
After a few minutes of intense and guilt-wracked silence she put me out of my misery and said she knew I'd forgotten her birthday. Not only that, she'd taken a bet with a friend that I'd forgotten it. You know who your friends are when they'd rather lose $10 than forewarn you of impending doom.
Male friends find my account of our birthday present ritual insufferable; like I am setting a bad example or letting the side down.
So, most are delighted by my fall from grace. I guess it's my punishment for years of smugness.
Because humble pie is a purely theoretical dish, I have instead a recipe for a humble casserole. It was the meal I had planned for the day that happened to be my wife's birthday. It's not her favourite; she refers to it as baked beans. I like to think of it more as beans and sausages.
Cassoulet is in fact a famous dish from the Languedoc region of France, particularly from around Toulouse, Carcassone and Castelnaudry. There are ancient chivalrous orders dedicated to its worship; which basically involves a bunch of old crazies sitting around eating cassoulet while wearing capes and silly hats.
CASSOULET (serves 4)
1 x 400g tin haricot or cannellini beans
4 rashers bacon
4 Kransky sausages
250g large pork pieces
500g shank end lamb
2 onions
4 gloves garlic
4 tbsp tomato purée
1 litre stock
Bouquet garni or 2 tsp Italian herbs
Salt and pepper
Olive oil and butter
Six slices wholemeal bread
Cut the meat and sausages into large chunks. The shank end of a lamb roast is particularly suitable, however you could use thick shoulder chops instead (remove the bones if you do). Chop the onions and garlic coarsely.
Add olive oil and a little butter to a large ovenproof pan. On a high heat, brown the meat and set aside. Reduce the heat and sauté the onions and garlic until golden brown. Return the meat to the pan. Add the stock, tomato paste, and herbs. Use enough stock that the meat is not quite covered.
Cover the pan and bake in the oven at 150OC for about two hours. Take the pan from oven. Drain the tin of beans and mix the beans in with the meat and juices.
Using a kitchen whizz make coarse bread crumbs from the slices of wholemeal bread. Sprinkle about half the breadcrumbs on top of the cassoulet and press them lightly to create a firm layer. Season with salt and pepper.
Return the pan to the oven, without the lid, and cook for 20 to 30 minutes. Add the rest of breadcrumbs, again pressing them down, and cook for another 20 minutes until the breadcrumbs are golden brown.
Wine match
A medium bodied red wine is an ideal companion for cassoulet. A couple of wines I have tasted recently immediately spring to mind; both from the Gimblett Gravels. Mills Reef Reserve Merlot Malbec combines the earthiness of Merlot with the dark fruitiness of Malbec . "Recovery Red 2009", produced by the Unison Vineyard, is a delicious and slightly unorthodox blend of Merlot, Cabernet and Syrah.