CHARCUTEPALOOZA 11, CURING: Lardo and Lonzino, or the Fat and the Lean

One time Jack referred to Brian’s bresaola as the “old meat hanging in the basement”, and little did he know how good that old meat would become. Over the past few years, Brian has gotten the bresaola thing down, each one more mind-blowingly delicious than the last. He’ll present these little plates of perfectly seasoned cured beef, so thinly sliced that they’re translucent and they melt in your mouth. Usually they’re served in the classic way, with some of his garden arugula, large curls of shaved parmesan cheese, and a few drops of lemon juice, but I always try to eat an unadulterated slice or two so I can taste just it.

 So I was just slightly intimidated by this month’s Charcutepalooza challenge. What on earth could I make that wouldn’t pale in comparison to Brian’s bresaola? I figured I might be safe trying something that we’d never eaten before, so we wouldn’t know just how good or lousy it might be. I figured that pork is a pretty safe bet; you can’t go wrong with it. And Lonzino, a pork loin cured in the same way as bresaola, might even be ok on the new eating plan. But then I remembered a nice piece of milk-fed pork fat from the Amish farmer that was in the freezer, and thought it might be interesting to try curing two opposite cuts of the pig, the lean loin and the pure fat, and to compare them, even though I’ve been working really hard to be more like Jack Sprat and less like his wife!

For the Lonzino I used Hank Shaw’s, of Hunter Angler Gardener Cook, recipe (great site, by the way), and followed Ruhlman and Polcyn’s guide for the lardo.

First the meat & fat got a good covering of salt and spice.

Into the refrigerator they went for a few weeks, being turned every once in a while.

Then they were wrapped and tied.

And they went to the basement to hang out for awhile. The little bathroom down there, with lights off, a humidifier, and a towel at the door is the best place for this.

The Lonzino was brought up and rubbed with brine and/or vinegar a few times to keep any nastiness out.

It didn’t take too long, and they were ready to go.

How do they compare?

The lardo is, well it’s ok.  Maybe it would be more interesting if you were to rub it with a fresh batch of spice before wrapping and hanging.  Maybe a thicker slab of fat would be better. Brian thinks it needs a glass of wine alongside it. I’m wondering if maybe Mrs. Sprat is losing her taste for fat.

But the lonzino, well the lonzino is another story. The texture is right, and the seasonings peek through in just the right amount. I wish we had a few fresh figs to go with it. Lonzino on bread is super, and lonzino on a slice of apple is sublime.

ROASTED GARLIC RICOTTA SPREAD

Both of these meats are just fine on their own, but also good with a mild cheese. This spread, made with mild ricotta, roasted garlic, and a hint of lemon, is just right for a sliver of lonzino.

Drain 1 c ricotta cheese and 3 T yogurt in a cheesecloth lined colander for at least a half an hour. It should be fairly thick and dry.

Meanwhile, slice off the top end of a head of garlic, and roast it in a medium oven for about 20 or 30 minutes until it begins to turn golden.

Pop the cooked garlic out of its skin and whir, along with the drained cheese yogurt mixture and 2 – 3 tsp olive oil, in a food processor until smooth.

Stir in grated zest of one lemon, 1 tsp of lemon juice, a pinch of hot pepper flakes if you like, and salt and pepper to taste.

With the lonzino I like the mildness of the ricotta, but you might want to try one of these variations: try with cottage cheese, drained, or farmer’s cheese. Goat cheeses are nice, too, but may have a stronger, more tangy,  flavor. Drain according to the wetness of the particular cheese you’re using. Fresh herbs, of course, are always nice mixed into a soft cheese; try chives, chervil, and thyme, or whatever other combination you like. 

CHARCUTEPALOOZA CHALLENGE 9: A Paté Revival - Small Pate en Croute, with Chicken Livers, Duck Livers and Pork Confit

OK. It’s a sinful, soulful food, paté is, and it’s not on my eating plan, as it tends to be high in fat and cholesterol, and as I have a tendency to eat an awful lot of it. But it is on Charcutepalooza, so I welcomed the excuse to break with said eating plan. I’ll repent by swimming extra laps and eating a slew of seaweed salad!

Though it can be extravagant, as it is when made with foie gras, it can also be humble, as when made from scraps of leftover this and that. I always like the idea of making something with whatever you happen to have (that’s the "how we live our lives" part), so I dug into the freezer to see what I could find. No pork liver - how ever could I have let that happen? - but there was some chicken and duck liver that would do. No pork pieces, but there was bag of fat scraps cut from various pieces of pork. There were also a few pieces of veal in there, but I’m not about to give them up when the season for Veal Stew with Lemon and Cream (also not really on my eating plan either – more laps and seaweed for me!) is just around the corner. I did find a little bit of ground veal left from something or other that would do instead. Though I’m sure some would say that to make a proper paté I should grind it all from the start, I’m also sure that there have been plenty a fine paté made from pre-ground meat, back in some other day before there was a Kitchen Aid mixer with grinder attachment in every kitchen

In this recipe, I use the aspic and the crust from a recipe for Raised Pork Pie, posted on food52 by luvcookbooks. It is simple yet rich and flavorful, and one of my favorite recipes I’ve tried from the site.

The center of the paté has a layer of sliced duck liver on top of a layer of pork confit. Now confit isn’t necessary for the paté, and it may even be overkill. You could certainly just layer small pieces of raw meat into your paté, grind it in with the veal, or even leave it out altogether. But for this paté, I liked the way the confit blended in seamlessly, soft enough to slice through and spread, but still retaining its character.

Small Paté en Croute, with Chicken Livers, Duck Livers and Pork Confit

Makes about 1 ½ c paté for 1 c in pastry for the day after tomorrow, and about  ½ c plain paté for supper tomorrow.

This paté en croute is a three to four day recipe. On day one you start the broth, render fat for the crust, and glean bits of pork from that fat, and then bake it for the confit. On day two you reduce the stock further, creating aspic, chill it again, and you also make, bake, and chill the paté. On day three you pour aspic into the paté, chill it again so that the aspic can firm up, and finally at the end of day three or on day four you may slice it up and at last enjoy it. That’s why it’s nice to have a little plain paté to whet your appetite in the meanwhile.

Day One:

Get started on some pork broth for aspic: You’ll only need about ½ to 1 c for the paté, but make a good sized batch so that you have lots left over-you can freeze it to have around to add amazing flavor to beans, vegetables, soups, etc. Take a few pork bones, with some meat still on them, place in a large pot and cover with water. Add an onion, cut in quarters, and bring to a simmer.  For the Raised Pork Pie, luvcookbooks has you add a carrot stalk, a bay leaf, and some thyme, oregano, and peppercorns, and you can do this too, but for pate I prefer the aspic made with just an onion. Turn heat as low as you can get it so that it continues to release steam, but is not bubbling away. Cook the broth like this for several hours, until reduced by 2/3, every once in a while skimming off any gunk that comes to the surface. Remove bones, strain and chill broth.

Render some pork fat: put a few pieces of pork fat (about 6 or 8 oz.) into a small saucepan with and add cool water just to the top of the fat. Put the heat on very low and cook uncovered for a few hours until the fat comes apart and becomes mostly liquid. Remove any still solid pieces of fat, and at this point, if you’re a sloppy butcher as I am, you’ll be able to poke through the fat and the pot and pull out any little pieces of meat that were left on the fat. Strain and chill the pan liquids. When chilled, remove the fat and ad any liquid at the bottom to your pork broth. (Alternatively, use purchased lard for the crust and a few small pieces fresh pork – butt or fatty chop- for the confit).

Make the confit: if you’re using meat and fat from the rendering process, put the meat scraps and fat solids in a ramekin with a bay leaf. Place in a baking dish filled with water to halfway up the side of ramekin, cover with foil and bake in a 300 oven for an hour or so. If you’re using fresh fat and meat bake for two or three hours, until it is super soft and pulls apart with just a fork. When it’s cooked and still warm, spread some of it onto a piece of bread or cracker, sprinkle with salt, and eat it right then and there, standing barefoot in your kitchen. Chill the rest.

Get ready for making paté:  freeze your grinder or food processor components, discs, blades, and bowls.

Day Two:

Reduce Broth, Making an Aspic: remove pork broth from refrigerator and remove fat. Return to large pot and simmer, continuing to skim until it is reduced to just a few cups of liquid. It should be slightly thick. Strain again and refrigerate. It should firm up to a jell, but if it doesn’t,  just blend in 2 tsp plain gelatin dissolved in ¼ c water.

Make Paté: First, in a small bowl, marinate 6 oz veal cut into 1” pieces and 1 oz pork backfat cut into 1” pieces (or 6 oz ground veal and 1 oz minced pork backfat) with 1T Cognac. In another small bowl, combine 3 oz chicken livers, 1 minced shallot and 2 T Cognac. Refrigerate veal mixture and liver mixture for at least an hour.

Make a panade by heating in a small pan 1 ½ T rendered pork fat with 1 ½ T water. When it is melted together, add 3 or 4 T flour (fine or cake flour is best, but regular flour is fine too) and stir, over low heat, for a few minutes until it comes together in a ball. Keep at room temperature until ready to use.

Saute marinated chicken livers and their liquid in 1T butter just until they are browned slightly on the outside, but so they’re still squishy soft to the touch. Add another tablespoon or two of Cognac, ignite, and let flame burn out. Cool to room temperature. Mix up the pate. If you’re using chunks of meat and fat, run it through your grinder, along with the chicken livers and panade, using a medium or large disc, one pass if you want a coarse pate, two if you would like it smoother. If you don’t have a grinder, you can pulse it all in your food processor, but don’t turn it to a paste. If you're using pre-ground meat you could either run it through the grinder, pulse it in the processor, or mix it up by hand, take your pick. Mix in ½ tsp salt, ¼ tsp Espices Fines (Spice Parisienne)* or allspice, 2 T cream and a pinch of pink preserving salt (not necessary if you don’t have it, but it will help to keep your paté a nice pink color when cooked). Fry up a little piece, taste, and adjust seasonings. Slice 6 oz duck or chicken liver lengthwise.

*To make Espices Fines (Spice Parisienne)*, which is much preferable to allspice, mix a teaspoon each minced bay leaves, white pepper, black pepper, nutmeg, cinnamon, ginger and mace with ½ teaspoon each ground cloves, minced sage, marjoram and rosemary.

Make Crust: heat 1/4 c rendered pork fat or lard and ¼ c water. Add ¾ tsp salt and then stir in 1 to 1 ¼ c flour. Stir until just combined. No need to chill this dough; you can roll this out right away. I roll it between layers of plastic wrap.

Assemble and Bake Paté: preheat oven to 300. Line a 1 c ramekin, tin, or pate form with foil or plastic wrap, (optional, but helpful if you want to remove it from the ramekin to serve it), and then roll out crust, and line pan with the crust, reserving a piece of crust for the top. Next, line the crust with a layer of very thinly sliced pork backfat. Put down a layer with about a half a cup of the veal and liver mixture. Cover with a layer of pork confit, and “paste” it down with a teaspoon or two more of the veal and liver.

Cover evenly with a layer of sliced duck or chicken liver, sprinkle with salt, and finish with another half cup or so of the veal and liver mixture, followed by another layer of thinly sliced fat. Top with a few bay leaves if you like, fresh are better if you have them, and cover with top crust.

Cut a 1” hole in the top crust and remove. Cover loosely with foil and place in a baking pan. Place in preheated oven and fill pan with water to halfway up the paté pan. You can also make it free-form on a cookie sheet, wrapping the pate like a present, covering loosely with foil, and baking without water.

Bake for about an hour, remove foil, brush crust with beaten egg, and bake another 30-40 minutes until browned nicely.

Remove from oven, let cool to room temperature, and then refrigerate.

If you’ve got leftover ground meat mixture and sliced liver, grease a small ramekin, fill with veal and chicken liver mixture, and top with sliced liver. Brush with some rendered pork fat or oil, sprinkle with salt, and bake in 300 oven for 30 or 40 minutes. You can eat this right away, warm or cold.

Day Three:

Fill Pate with Aspic: Warm a cup of the jelled broth and put it in a pitcher with a good pour spout. Pour a bit of the broth into the pate through the cut hole in the top crust till it fills to the top. Wait a few minutes until it has absorbed, and fill again. Continue this many times, until the broth is no longer absorbed into the paté. Chill thoroughly, at least several hours, so that the aspic can jell. Slice and serve with some sort of pickle.

Pickled Watermelon Rind is my absolute favorite pickle to serve with this, as the seasonings reflect the seasonings in the paté, and it also has a bit of sweet to play off the bit of salt in the paté. This recipe, from The Philadelphia Cook Book of Town and Country, by Anna Wetherill Reed, (NY: Bramhall House, 1963,) with sliced lemon and preserved ginger, is fabulous.

Spiced Melon Rind

Cut off all green and pink from rind of 1 large watermelon. Weigh prepared rind and soak overnight in brine made with 2T table salt to every1quart water.

Drain and cook rind in fresh water until tender and drain again. For each 2 lbs prepared rind, boil together 4 ½ c sugar, 2 c water, 1 lemon, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced, 2 c vinegar, 1 stick cinnamon, 1 tsp whole cloves, and 1 tsp allspice berries, and pour over rind and add ¼ c preserved (candied) ginger, sliced. Cook about 5 minutes until rind becomes clear and translucent. Pack in clean sterilized jars, fill with syrup and process at once. (Reed has you use plain preserved ginger and remove it before processing, but I prefer to use sliced candied ginger and mix it in with the rind).

I promise, this is one of the best watermelon rind recipes around, and it is so good with pate!

A last note on paté.

The general consensus is that it doesn’t freeze well, which is true. It looses its soft  and smooth texture when frozen.  But it can be revived and reinvented into a very nice spread, and you won’t need to waste any of your lovely paté. Be sure to freeze what you won’t be eating right away, while it is still fresh. When you’re ready to thaw it, do so in the refrigerator. When your paté has thawed, whir it up, fat and all, in your food processor with a little cream, or ideally some of that pork aspic you made, or a little of both.

You can add some fresh thyme, savory, paprika, and a pinch of salt to perk it up. It’s not the pate you made in the first place, but it ain’t half shabby this way.

And a Confession:
I burned the top of that pate!

And simultaneously undercooked the bottom crust!

Thinking I should get with the program and start testing my pate temperatures with a thermometer, I pulled it too soon, thought it should be a little browner on the top, turned on the broiler, and then got distracted!
So the top got scraped, brushed with egg, and re-browned.

Later when I removed it from the mold I saw that the bottom crust was underdone, so it went back into the oven again, this time bottom side up, and then it was returned to the ramekin for the pouring of the aspic.

A pate revival, but still, be sure your sins will find you out!

CHARCUTEPALOOZA CHALLENGE 3, BRINING, PART 1: THE CURING AND COOKING OF CORNED BEEF, BRINED HAM STEAK, WHOLE CHICKEN, AND PORK LOIN, AND A CHANGED ATTITUDE

A few years back brining was all over the place. Everywhere you’d look someone was raving about the virtues of brining, and we climbed right on the brining bandwagon. We brined and we brined, and by the time it was finally out of my system, I had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t for me because is seemed to me that it kind of left everything kind of the same. As lovely as it is to have evenly moist and seasoned meat, that is just what it is: even, and that evenness sacrifices variation. I enjoy having each bite of my meat a little different from the last: one bite may be seasoned more strongly than another, one might be a little more dry than another, one might have a texture that is a little different, and for me the experience will be more interesting and more gratifying.

I wasn’t too excited about this Charcutepalooza challenge, but I’d never corned my own beef, and enough time had passed that I was up to revisiting brining. One thing that had bothered me about brining was the dominance of the salt, how it permeated every bite. I also didn’t like the softened texture. That’s why I don’t buy meat that has been injected with anything. I hoped to be able to adjust the technique or recipe so that the meat was improved by the brine, but not taken over by it.

So how to add some flavor and moisture without letting it take over? How about less salt, more herbs/spices, less brining time and more resting time? For each meat, except the corned beef, I cut the salt and brining time by about half, and doubled the herbs/spices and resting time, to see if I could come up with a milder and more flavorful treatment that added something but didn’t take away from the character of the meat. It worked!

Here’s what we did. Recipes to follow:

We made an out of this world corned beef, for corned beef and cabbage, with leftovers for hash, sandwiches and colcannan.

Ham steak from our Amish farmer is not cured, so brining in basic brine with lots of mustard and sage added nice flavor.

We brined and cooked a chicken on the rotisserie. My sister Mary over for dinner that night, and she pointed out that in Italy they frequently brine game, which is leaner and often tougher, to tenderize it. Free range animals are similar to wild animals in this respect, and also respond well to a light brine.

We figured out how to deal with latter day lean pork tenderloin.

And we got a batch of sauerkraut going for good measure, though we didn’t float it in brine, but just kneaded salt into it as we usually do.

ART LINKS:

James Peale, Still Life with Balsam Apple and Vegetables, at The Met
A Cool Cabbage Hat at the Met
Cabbage Tureen at Minneapolis Museum of Art
Cabbage Field by Simone Nieweg at St. Louis Art Museum