“I have seen the face freedom and eaten it.” – Eldridge Cleaver after schtupping Pat Nixon.

My nephew gave me some sausage he had left over from a boar he shot a few weeks ago. I wanted to do right by it.

This morning I cooked up a variation of my biscuits and gravy recipe. I didn’t have any butter so I used duck fat instead. I also added a little bit of thyme to the batter to make them more savory.

I don’t know if it was the duck fat or if I fucked up my measurements and put more than 8 tablespoons in, but these were the lightest biscuits I’ve ever made. Amazing stuff really. I also had larger chunks of the duck fat than I normally have with the butter so that’s something to think about for the future. I also added a pinch of sugar to the biscuits, something I haven’t done before but seemed like a reasonable idea.

The boar sausage is leaner than pork so I added about a half tablespoon of lard to my cast iron skillet before adding cornstarch to make the gravy. I also added 1 diced shallot, some chives, thyme and just a tiny pinch of cardamon.

I like putting cardamon in just about anything I can, I think it brings a really nice spicy earthiness to stuff. Be careful not to over do it though, this stuff can get away from you real fast.

I laid off on the cream/milk mixture this time, adding just enough liquid to capture the thickened fats. This was a good idea.

I topped it all off with some diced tomatoes and some more chives for color.

I could topple empires with this monstrosity.

My eminently tasteful wife picked me up a Waring waffle iron for my birthday a few weeks ago. Since that time I’ve been on a bit of a waffle bender trying to get the recipe right, marrying the perfect amounts of crunchy outside with light and fluffy inside. This morning my face found the philosopher’s stone.

1.5 cups water divided
1 packet of dry yeast
3 cups flour
1/4 tsp salt
3 large eggs, seperated w/ 1 egg white extra
1/3 cup sugar
1.5 cups half and half
12 tbl butter
6 tbl vegetable oil
2 tsp vanilla extract
6 pieces of cooked and minced bacon per waffle

Take 3/4 cup of warm water and add the yeast and a pinch of sugar. Leave it about 10 minutes until it foams.

Mix flour and salt in a large bowl.

Add egg yolks and 1 of the egg whites and sugar to yeast mixture and blend. Add another 3/4 cup water, half and half, butter melted and cooled, oil and vanilla and mix just until smooth.

Mix the dry with the wet.

Beat the egg whites with another pinch of sugar until stiff peaks. Fold into the batter. Let it stand for about an hour mixing every 15 minutes or so.

Keep your minced bacon on the side and add on a per waffle basis so your idiot friends who don’t eat meat can suffer alone. Use a separate bowl so you can get a very thorough distribution of bacon in the batter.

Top these bastards with some powdered sugar and some sliced fruit. Inject just below the eyelid.

This is a totally simple and tasty recipe for a liver pate that I snagged out of Cook’s Illustrated. It calls for chicken liver, but I made this with goose liver’s from Gephardt’s last time. For our annual Christmas party this weekend I’m making it from beef liver. I’ve not used beef liver before and I’m a little worried it’s not going to be as tasty as goose liver, but fortunately, if it does bomb terribly, we’ll have some fresh lobster and filet mignon to deliver us from that evil. Viva la indulgence.

8 tbl butter
3 large shallots, sliced
1 tbl fresh thyme
1 lb chicken liver
3/4 cup dry vermouth
2 tsp brandy

Saute the shallots, thyme and a pinch of salt in the butter until brown. Add your liver and cook just until pink in the middle. Take the liver out, add the vermouth and cook down to a syrup. Put all of this into a food processor along with the brandy, a couple pinch’s of the pate blend from the Ruhlman and Polcyn book Charcuterie and salt and pepper to taste. Get it smooth and soft. Put it in a container and push saran wrap down against the pate to keep any oxygen off it. Put a lid on the container and let it sit for a couple days so all the flavors can blend. Serve it with some butter drenched toasted bread slices.

EDIT: I tried it this morning and it’s pretty good. Not as smooth as the goose liver – there’s a bit more of that chalky liver flavor than I would prefer – though that may have more to do with me cooking it a bit longer than I should have and not so much with the beast from which it was ripped from.

It would really hurt to put hot, liquid marrow into a syringe and shoot it into your arm or eyeball so Michael Ruhlman has this satisfactory alternative for using bone marrow to activate your pleasure centers:

“To cook the marrow, roll them in flour till they’re completely coated and sauté them in canola oil over medium high heat (too hot and the flour will burn, too cool and the marrow will melt before the surface is crisp), turning them to brown them well on all sides. On the day Powder made the marrow (that’s him grilling the bread and plating), he poured out excess oil when they were nearly done and added some butter to finish them off. This is a chef I love: when preparing a rich, highly fatty dish, finish it off with just a liiiittle more butter. Fernand would have approved. And in all seriousness, the butter browns and makes the crust especially flavorful.”

I will oblige.

Our country of fat fucks are about to hit their annual apex of indulgence and I couldn’t be happier.

You see, I fancy my self a fairly learned sensualist. Certainly, at times, my adventures slant nearer towards escapes than escapades, but I’m comfortable with my batting average. And what kind of sensualist demands perfection anyway? Be it moral, idealogical or otherwise, perfection is anti-septic and boring. Sensuality lives in those lines between intent.

But there’s a great divide between properly dipping your neurons into the velvety rivers of impress and flat-lining your fat ass into a narcotic stupor with cheap, shitty food, lousy music and bad conversation. Which is why, every year at this time, I’m reminded of two of my favorite men of letters, Allan Watts and William S. Burroughs.

First, everyone’s favorite philandering philosopher, the Zoro of Zen, that drunk monk you know and love, Mr. Alan Watts:

“The commonly accepted notion that Americans are materialists is pure bunk. A materialist is one who loves material, a person devoted to the enjoyment of the physical and immediate present. By this definition, most Americans are abstractionists. They hate material, and convert it as swiftly as possible into mountains of junk and clouds of poisonous gas. “

Amen, Doctor.

And then there’s Uncle Bill, who, in his inimitable way, can carve down any bogeyman to it’s proper size, weight and gravitational pull with a few choice words.

Between these two pillars I level my gravy boat.

This year we’ll have a few selected handmade beers to enjoy during our 4 day bender:

We’ve got a decent American Pale Ale I lovingly call the Maggie Thatcher as it’s very dry, extremely bitter and the yeast has it smelling a bit like eggs. I used the White Labs WLP060 in it, so I knew that the eggy smell would be around, but figured it would pass. Maggie’s been sitting for about a month now and she’s still a stinker. I actually kind of like the sulphur stink a bit and the agressive dryness of the yeast is impressive, but it’s hard to convince other people that her sulphur stank is all that “interesting”. I probably won’t be using WLP060 again.

We’ve also got a yummy belgian golden strong ale weighing in at 7.77% ABV and named for another brit, this one a queen. The Golden Dawn has been given it’s title in honor of that fat little cocksucker Aleister Crowley and his first hermetic society. This was made with the Achouffe yeast and some spices. It’s really quite good and a little fruity, just like Frater Perdurabo.

Lastly, we’ve got the Lemmy, an 11% coffee stout that clocks in at about 51 SRM, made with Metropolis coffee. We monkeyed around with a couple different ways to get the coffee into this, but found that racking on top of coarsely ground coffee and letting it sit for 60 hours was the best way to get the most flavor without any shitty side effects. Thanks to the Jamil show and the guys at Terrapin for this bit of insight.

There’s our beverage profile. Add into that a few bottles of decent bourbon, some Bailey’s and a theives ransom of coffee and we should be solid. Some red ambulance never hurt either.

For food this year I think we’ll try something different and make a Turkey on Thursday and then maybe eat shredded Turkey and mayo sandwiches for the rest of the weekend. But, seriously, why mess with success? There is a Platonic ideal that is the Thanksgiving Turkey and to stray too far from that premise is treasonous at best. But, since we’re talking about it, I did come across a recipe for braising the turkey that sounds amazing. Seriously, say that slowly with me: Braised Turkey.

So there you have it: turkey, beer, and booze. Throw in some guns and bath salts and we can send off this holiday with the panache it requires.

My money is on Green Bay.

Ok, so I finally got to the end of the two-week alcohol extraction of fenugreek seeds that I found digging four pages deep into a google search on fenugreek and maple syrup alternatives. The experiment was successful though I did need to make some adjustments.

I wound up using twice the amount of vodka as stated in the article since the fenugreek was very absorbent. Just use your eyes and best judgement on the amount of alcohol needed.

When I strained out the fenugreek yesterday, and after I spilled some of the extract being a knucklehead, I had about 50ml of extract remaining. That’s a pretty high absorption rate considering I probably had about 6-8oz of vodka in there initially.

To the 50ml of fenugreek extract I added a half a teaspoon of vanilla extract.

I mixed the fenugreek and vanilla up and put about a half teaspoon into 4oz of soy milk. The nose was pretty good, I was quite happy, it did indeed smell like I had put maple syrup in the soy milk. The taste was terribly bitter, however, so I added some agave syrup to balance that out. At that point, I’m happy to say, I had a tasty little beverage.

So what I know so far about fenugreek as a replacement for maple syrup is that the alcohol extraction works at 2 weeks (I’ll probably try a longer length extraction, too) but that further experimentation with adjusting the hop profile in the beer is going to be needed as the extraction requires some serious sweetness to off-set it’s bittertude.

The next step is to do a larger extraction and then start adding it to 1 gallon of beer adjusting the hop schedule as I go. From there I’ll scale it up.

Stay tuned, there is more to come.

My water extraction experiments were vaguely successful last week, but didn’t yield anything I felt would be worth jamming up a whole batch of homebrew on. With the water extraction I found that the whole seed, untoasted and cold steeped for a day, offered the best results. I put 1 tblspn in 4oz of water. I then reduced it down about 2/3rds for my final product.

But like I said, nothing too great…

Though I am bound and determined to nail this puzzle. Aside from providing a more stable substitute for maple syrup, fenugreek is apparently also quite beneficial for nursing moms. In fact, I’ve got a nursing mom in my house right now and her Doula has instructed her to drink one hoppy beer a day and take some fenugreek extract. Apparently, the fenugreek and hops aid in the production of breast milk while the B vitamins in the brewers yeast and the alcohol help manage emotions during that terrible state of being a new mother. I think it’ll be awesome to brew her a beer where she could kill both those mangy birds in one tasty glass.

After digging an unprecedented 4 pages deep into my google search I came across an e-how article on making an alcohol extract of fenugreek. And, much to my delight, this e-how article actually has useful information in it and isn’t just serving to litter up our precious little internet with SEO trash. I’ve ordered up some more fenugreek and am hoping to have a new experiment underway by the week’s end. And you, imaginary world, will be the first to know.

Michael Rulhman’s book “Ratio” is one of the best things that’s ever happened to my cooking. It is typically my first reference when approaching a new dish and has helped me understand how I might someday develop my own voice with cooking more than any other book or experience I’ve come across to date. But does that mean I’m going to go down to Butcher & Larder on October 11th for a book signing by Anthony Bourdain’s straight man? Probably not. But I do think it’s great that there are people that will.

From his books “The Making of a Chef” to the amazing “Charcuterie” and his newest “Ruhlman’s Twenty” to his appearances on No Reservations, Ruhlman tends to present himself in the kind, interested, unassuming and slightly stoned manner of someone who deeply cares about their craft and sincerely enjoys in sharing it’s riches with others. And, in an industry populated by orange croc wearing neo-reptillian gingers like Mario Batalli and his smarthy like, it brings me more than just a little bit of happiness to know that substance can still persevere over, or at least amongst, style.

Butcher & Larder is also offering an opportunity to have a more intimate experience with Michael Ruhlman:

Relate to me in a tweet (@butcherlarder) an ‘a-ha’ moment involving a cooking technique or ingredient. 20 winners will be selected to hang out at The Butcher & Larder with Rob and Michael Ruhlman while they make sausage and put together a version of the sausage and escarole soup from Twenty. This will be a great opportunity for fans to talk about the new book and his amazing career from The Making of a Chef to co-writing The French Laundry and Charcuterie.

The “sausage-making party with Ruhlman” will take place from 6-8 PM on Tuesday, October 11th, and if you are not selected for the party, there will be an open book signing for anyone and everyone from 8-9 PM.

I wrote about using fenugreek in homebrew to replace maple syrup last year about this time. I’m finally getting around to trying this out.

I had hoped initially that a cold steep would be my answer for extracting the maple flavors and tastes from the fenugreek. Several experiments with that have proven that unhelpful. Instead of maple flavor you get a kind of vegetal muskiness.

I had read in several places that roasting or browning the fenugreek slightly would bring out the maple flavoring. That is very wrong, it instead brings out what I presume is the characteristics of fenugreek that indian cooks are hoping to coax from these tiny little seeds. Again to bitter, too acrid, not a trace of maple syrup.

I then boiled down the vegetal stink of the cold steep and my house smelled like it was built from hotcakes. But there was absolutely no indication of that smell in my liquid. So today I tried a new kind of fenugreek and I’ve tried three different methods of extraction: cold steep, whole boil, cracked boil

After 30 minutes the whole seed boil, 1tspn/.5 cup has been the most successful. I’m going to let them sit all day while I’m at work and check them again tonight. Based up on that I’ll scale up my extraction volume, boil down and then try to start adding to my keg for consumption.

I’ll keep you plugged in on what I find.

I’ve had a longstanding agreement with the 4-bar degenerates in my life that, upon my death, they will slow cook my better cuts serving using my carcass as the serving station, Old Country Buffet style. Further, my wife and friends have been clearly instructed to have a moog rendition of “Send in the Clowns” sent through a high-capacity, gold-conducted, tube-amp driven sound-system while a procession of 8 tall, topless women in clown make-up slowly roller skate me in.

And then, when all of my dear and loyal friends have consumed me entirely – with plenty of good fatty pieces left for my amazingly fun and fluffy hell beast, Alice – it is then that the clown-whores will place the remains of my remains into a wood-thatched boat, set it afire, and push me off, down river into that great and eternal recline in the sky.

My proper Viking send off will be accented by the tenor stomp of Jim Cornelison singing “Across the Universe”.

The plans are clear and without abstraction. And I am bloody serious about insuring this happens. So serious that I have spent the better part of my adult life purposefully seeking out and befriending only people that I know, beyond that murky swamp of a doubt, that in a moment of great stress, tragedy or trial, that I can count on them to step to the plate, with both hands strung around the thin of the bat, and do the right thing, knocking the ball out of the fucking park. It just so happens that, in this case, knocking it out of the park entails a funerary wish for the pleasures of long-pig cannibalism.

Up to this point, I’ve been a bit ambiguous as to how I should be slow cooked. But I feel now, at long last, I can finally put some specifics down on paper concerning this: I want to be braised.

Braising (from the French “braiser”), is a combination cooking method using both moist and dry heat; typically the food is first seared at a high temperature and then finished in a covered pot with a variable amount of liquid, resulting in a particular flavour.

I am just in love with braising meat right now. To me – unless you bring me strip loin or rib eye – there is no other way to prepare meat. It’s simple, low maintenance, it thoroughly drapes your home in the rich sensory indulgence of the amazing meal to come, and it can turn a $2/lb cut of cheap-ass meat into a full-bodied, super-tender flavor-slut, totally open and willing to perform any kind of culinary depravity you want right there in your watering mouth. And, what’s more, once you’ve cooked the meat you’ve got all that rich, fatty liquid left. You reduce that shit down and you’ve got the most amazing gravy you could imagine to rinse across your plate. It’s so easy.

Here’s what I did the other night. All-in-all it took about 4 hours to make, cost about $20, and fed 3 people for about 3 meals.

Ingredients:
4 bone-in beef shanks
3 tblspns lard or butter or oil
2 shallots
1 clove of garlic
some fresh thyme
some fresh rosemary
a cheap bottle of red wine
chicken or beef stock
Spaetzle (I’ll get into that later)

Take a dutch oven or a La Creuset or some kind of big pot and heat up your lard at high temp. Once it’s at temperature than brown your shanks on both sides. Put them aside for now.
In the same vessel put in your diced shallots and garlic and get those nice and brown and soft.
Deglaze with wine.
Put your meat back in, put in your herbs and fill with stock until just before the meat is totally under liquid.
Put in some pepper to taste.
Once the liquid comes to a boil, reduce to a simmer, cover and let it sit for about 3 or more hours.

When your meat is as tender as you want it, go ahead and remove it, putting it on a plate for later.
Strain out the liquid from the veggies. Toss your veggies out.
Take the liquid and reduce it down to as thick and flavorful of a consistency as you like.
Right before you serve the liquid put about 2 tablespoons of butter in there.
Weep with joy, your life is, at least momentarily, full of wonderful things for you and your nervous system to enjoy.

Now there’s a couple ways to enjoy this meat. You could put it on your plate, drizzle some gravy up on there and dig in. Or you could put it on some bread with some arugala, some chedder goat cheese and some apricot preserves and pop yourself a mouth boner. Or, you could do my preferred method of indulging, and make some spaetzle to serve it on.

Spaetzle is a german noodle, or small dumpling, that is super easy to make and, when pan fried to crisp it up a little bit, the perfect bed to serve some braised meat on.

Ingredients:
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup milk
2 eggs
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 gallon hot water

Mix your dry, mix your wet, put them together and let them sit for about 20 minutes. Boil some water and keep it at a simmer. Take a colander and put it over the simmering water. With a spatula push your thick speatzle batter through the holes in the water. It will float when it’s ready, which is usually in less than a minute.

Pan fry your spaetzle in butter to brown it a bit. That’s it.

Put some of the awesome spaetzle on a plate, put some meat on top, drizzle that gravy on that shit and maybe add some chives on top to make that fucker pop. Crack open a delicious beer, maybe one of them there Flying Dog Bourbon Barrel Aged Gonzo Porters, and enjoy the high holy shit out of your meal because you – yes you – are gonna be very dead much sooner than you are most likely gonna be cool with. And I wouldn’t be waiting for baby Jesus to feed your ass either, you’ve got no idea what kind of cook he is and even less clue how long you’ll have to wait for grub once you get to that brick shit house in the night.

And god only knows what kind of beer they’re serving up there.

So, dig in, bubba. Now!