With Memorial Day giving me an extra day to finish planting our garden and making the last preparations for summer, I also had time to fire up the smoker and try smoking not only a new cut of meat, but also a new beast altogether. On the last Monday in May, we ate a leg of beast – to be more specific, a leg of goat. Well, not all of it. Continue reading
There is flashy food travel – New York, San Francisco, Charleston, but this year I’ve been to some places that do not scream fancy. Cleveland, Detroit, Milwaukee, and Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill. I am not saying the fancy places are undeserving of their praise, but these other towns have shown me great things, food-wise, as well. On our recent trip to North Carolina, we had shrimp and grits at Crook’s Corner, chaat at Lantern, chicken biscuit (this was a revelation) at Time Out and, during a random stop at Rose’s Meats and Sweets in Durham, we bought some pastrami. Continue reading
In round two of turning venison scrap from my father into something more edible, I made a dangerous choice – a sausage of great familiarity. Summer Sausage. It is easy to cook without context when the only question is “Does it taste good?” I guess easy is relative, because it seems easy in comparison to when you are cooking something familiar and add “Does it taste right?” to “Does it taste good?” Venison summer sausage is, when combined with Ritz crackers and cheese, the most popular pre-dinner, post-lunch food in Wisconsin. When given venison scrap, how could i have ignored the opportunity to stock the pre-dinner, post-lunch larder for the year, or more likely, the remainder of April?
We host a dinner party periodically which is actually just a book club to which my wife belongs. Typically those types of groups are simply drinking clubs, but this one adds food and actual books. About a week before book club, I realized my original plan of serving cassoulet had been done before. By me. Last winter. It seems as when the weather grows cold, I cook beans – large pots of beans with sausages and off cuts.
Actually I should have never been surprised. Beans and meats are fantastic and this weather has forced my hand. Only, I am not a repeater. Knowing fabada is a not-so-distant cousin to cassoulet, I figured there must be more cousins. I just needed to look. Continue reading
In preparing for a dinner party, I started by making a batch of linguica. A fresh sausage smoked like Andouille, but with the flavors similar to Spanish chorizo, linguica is delicious and versatile. Great in beans, with vegetables, and on a bun, this sausage of Portuguese origin deserves more recognition. Continue reading
With the weather growing colder in the fall, a feature of our new home finally took shape. I would no longer need a curing fridge. I had a garage that, while slightly colder in the deep winter months, could safely cure and dry meats. On the first weekend where temps dropped into the 50s, I grabbed a freezer bag of venison and a package of bacon and go to it. Continue reading
Growing up, we always had a garden and, alongside the garden, we also had an enormous mass of concord grape vines. When we were there in early October, there were pounds and pounds of concords bending the vine, so how could I resist bringing home a bunch? One of my first thoughts was making raisins with the concords, but the problem I found was the enormous number of seeds. Continue reading
I love butcher shops.
Huge surprise. Right?
I do not mind the trendiness. Hell, when something is good, it is good. If others like it, so be it. Realizing it is a very old person’s way of thinking and gets in the way of the punk ethos of the tattooed chefs (cheves?), but I am not a chef, tattooed or otherwise. I just enjoy being able to get great meats in more places. Continue reading
Every year around the fourth of July, we head North for a good bit of time and every year I bring a prize cut of meat along with. This year I brought a huge cow’s head hoping to make barbacoa the old way, in a pit. Once I got there, I dug a big pit, lined it with stones and started a huge fire in the hole. After the fire was down to embers, I lowered a chile-slathered, banana-leaf wrapped cow’s head into the hole and pushed a load of dirt around it. Eighteen hours later, I unearthed it and it was merely warm. I tried to cook it in on a grill then in an oven. In the end, I was not convinced the head was safe to eat, so I scrapped it. Continue reading