Makin’ Bacon: Tom Mylan Works Some Magic
The shear grace and beauty with which Tom Mylan breaks down half a hog is something to behold.
The Context of No Context: What The Ethical Butcher and a Historian With Vegan Tourettes Have In Common
We promise not to call James McWilliams a mendacious manipulator. He is, of course, but as is his fashion, we will drop that “fact” casually and then tell you that, no, dear reader, we won’t bring it up, because that is a subject for another discussion.
If you haven’t read his convoluted and wholly misguided essay in The Atlantic, “Meat: What Big Agriculture and the Ethical Butcher Have in Common,” take a moment to try to make sense of it.
McWilliams tips his hand by telling you what he won’t talk about, when he introduces The Ethical Butcher: “The Ethical Butcher (a concept I find absurd, but that’s for another post), is a blog run by a guy named Berlin Reed,” he writes.
The best explanation we can come up with is that Mr. McWilliams seems to have vegan Tourettes.
Now, Mr. McWilliams starts his muddled Atlantic essay with the premise that “supporting alternatives to the industrial production of animal products serves the ultimate interest of industrial producers.” And how does he support this thesis? Well, because eating meat is ethically wrong in his worldview. Also, consuming milk, eggs and dairy is wrong.
And, according to McWilliams, those who consume animal products are “providing, however implicitly, an endorsement of the products that big agriculture will always be able to produce more efficiently and cheaply.” Ok, fair enough. But, if they are doing so — providing an “endorsement” of animal products, whatever that means — while loudly proclaiming the problems with Big Ag and factory farming, how is it they are supporting it? By eating meat. And that’s basically where his argument begins and ends.
Then he brings poor Berlin Reed into his argument, muddying The Ethical Butcher by claiming Reed’s message has been appropriated by The CCF (The Center for Consumer Freedom) — widely regarded as an advocacy group backed by, or at least founded by, restaurant, alcohol and tobacco industry lobbyists. McWilliams writes:
But now it’s the CCF — inspired by the ethical butcher’s staunch advocacy of meat consumption — that’s doing the calling, highlighting his website as consistent with CCF’s industrial values.
Go ahead click on the link he embedded there (we have no idea what he means by “That’s doing the calling,” by the way). It’s a blogroll.
On The CCF website there is nothing but a bunch of libertarian jargon about individual responsibility, and seemingly no appropriated language supporting sustainable farming (though if by appropriation you mean emulation, we could handle that). How does McWilliams equate the CCF’s listing of The Ethical Butcher on its blogroll with an appropriation of Berlin Reed’s message?
Just for kicks and because McWilliams didn’t, we called the CCF to ask them why they put The Ethical Butcher on the blogroll for Humanewatch. Justin Wilson, the research director and spokesman laughed, and said for the same reasons anyone anywhere does it: because it was something they saw and thought was interesting. There’s no implicit endorsement in either direction (but then, we’ve seen that McWilliams has an odd definition of endorsement), and the only time the CCF has mentioned The Ethical Butcher other than the blogroll listing is a brief mention when the blog launched in 2009. Wilson says he’s never had any contact with Reed. He did point out, though, that “We’ve cited McWilliams more than we’ve ever cited The Ethical Butcher.”
And herein likely lies the root of McWilliams anger. In fact, the CCF frequently cites McWilliams’ misguided arguments against locavorism and organics in support of its own equally misguided arguments. McWilliams is an associate professor of history at Texas State University, San Marcos and the author of Just Food: Where Locavores Get It Wrong and How We Can Truly Eat Responsibly, a tome from which The CCF seems to love to quote. The fact that his own words could be used so often to support an organization that is the antithesis of his vegan wonderland surely raised his ire. So apparently, he tried (badly) to do it to someone else, smearing Berlin Reed because the loathsome CCF had included his blog in its blogroll.
The only thing The Ethical Butcher and the CCF have in common, as the title of McWilliam’s essay proclaims, is “meat.” So is that enough to say one supports the other without citing anything more than a blogroll listing?
But where is the danger? Well, McWilliams has a theory.
He writes, “Right now industry is merely stealing words, concepts, and websites,” though he provides no evidence of any of this aside from the aforementioned blogroll listing, which of course is none of these things. But if the work of organizations such as The Butcher’s Guild, Cochon 555 and The Slow Foods USA has its desired affect and consumers do move toward locally grown and sustainable sources of meats, well, that is what terrifies McWilliams. Why? Because, in his words “what’s to stop industrial agriculture from building a few token sustainable farms where the animals are pastured, pampered, and publicized?”
So that is his big fear. That agribusiness adopt the methods of sustainable farms in a superficial way. His proof is that Big Agg will hollowly appropriate a well-intentioned message is the fact that The CCF, a fringe organization perhaps backed by restaurant industry money, put The Ethical Butcher on its blogroll.
Putting aside his cynicism about whether meaningful systemic change to our food supply is possible, the disaster, in his eyes, would be if people had more choices of sustainably raised meat.
Why? Because people would still be eating meat.
His logic is hard to argue with, but that’s for another post.
At the Trough: The Wine and Swine of Napa’s Cochon 555
On a recent rainy Sunday, The historic barrel room at the Culinary Institute of America in Napa Valley become a cracklin-, lard- and offal-stuffed temple of pork. Stationed around the high-ceilinged stone room that, more than 100 years ago, served as the aging cellar for local wineries such as Charles Krug and Beringer (both just down the street), five anxious-looking chefs surrounded by a team of eager-to-please assistants and CIA students rushed to put the finishing touches on plates that artfully displayed weeks of thought, planning and, of course, lots of preparation. Each chef had managed to break down his own heritage-bred animal and, using every tendril and tendon, prepare a feast of tiny bites for a panel of professional judges and a mob of pork- and wine-lovers.
Participating in Cochon 555 is an honor: for the chefs, the winemakers and yes, even for the pigs. For those who don’t know, the “555” stands for five chefs, five pigs and five winemakers. In most major cities, the chefs are the super stars of the event (playing second banana to only the chocolate covered bacon), but in a diverse agricultural region like Napa Valley, winemakers and farmers elbow in for space at the trough.
While preserving heritage breeds and supporting the farmers who raise them is the ultimate goal of Cochon, along the way they manage to create feasts that celebrate the art of butchery, cooking and bring communities together around the proverbial table.
Or ironing board, as it were. Chris L’Hommedieu, the Chef at Michael Mina in San Francisco, and his team, wearing T-shirts graffitied with the names of pig parts, had the most creative presentation we have seen at any Cochon event to date. Ironing boards covered in red- and white-checkered oil cloths served as tables around which judges unpacked pulled pork sliders, bags of crispy pig ears, belly and offal rillettes (served with pretzel bread) and tiny chocolate cupcakes frosted with pork lard from individual “pig-nic” bags. Even the thinly sliced pickled beets and carrots were cut into the shape of a pig.
While L’Hommedieu was an early favorite, he was not to be the ultimate winner. Neither was Michael Tuohy of Dean & Deluca, in spite of the crowd pleasing chorizo mac and cheese, heart meat hot dogs and a Moroccan spiced pork and chickpea stew. It was, however, not meat, but his pickled Romanesco that had the other chef’s returning to his table throughout the night.
To cleanse the palate between nibbles of cracklin’ and rendered lard, guests were offered “Manhattans” (really just whiskey with a couple of cherries and ice) courtesy of Hudson Baby Bourbon and, another chef favorite, Anchor Steam beer. While the pig parts were offally good, the Hama Hama oysters, piquing at that exact moment it seemed, provided another much-needed break.
While wine inevitably plays a supporting role at Cochon events, this year’s producers gave the piggies a run for their money. (This is Wine Country after all). Pax Mahle, Steve Mathiasson and Abe Schoener make for a trifecta of cutting edge winemakers. Between the Wind Gap, Mathiasson and Scholium Project labels, respectively, ten different varietals from as many regions across Northern California were represented. From a whole cluster Syrah to a skin-fermented Sauvignon Blanc, tasting the wines alone would have been a treat. The fact that they paired perfectly with the jars (jars!) of bacon stocked by the Black Pig Meat Company was simply a bonus.
In the end the victory went to the host: Lars Kronmark of the CIA and his army of students will take their head terrine to the national competition this spring.
But just when you thought the pork had stopped flowing, the real feast began. Chef Jonathon Bodnar of Smoakville in Napa and Jonathon Fink of San Fran-based The Whole Beast rolled out their southern-inspired spread complete with potato salad and crispy cole slaw, which served mostly to feed the competing chefs, the winemakers and the lucky few who still weren’t stuffed. While not technically competing, The Whole Beast-Smoakville feast was widely agreed upon by all who remained to be the best of the night.
The Super Bowl of Colorized Emulsified Processed Meats
No one can say Italians don’t take their football (meaning soccer) seriously. However, they take their food just as seriously, and when the two collide, well, let’s just say there is literally singing in the streets. One of the most memorable meals, of sorts, we had while staying in Florence was spent among a sea of purple jerseys in a trattoria indulging on passed dried meats and cheeses and copious amounts of red wine on the occasion of a match between ACF Fiorentina and rival Juventus. Spirits ran so high that day that the game had to be halted when the police threw tear gas into a section of overly enthusiastic Juventus supporters. You know those screaming fans are just as impassioned when it comes to their plates as they are the pitch.
The NFL’s biggest day falls a little short by comparison.
Don’t get us wrong. Americans seem to mean business with their sport-related food. Papa John’s, Pizza Hut and Dominos alone estimate 4.4 million pies will be ordered on Super Bowl Sunday when the Giants take on the Patriots. And we’ll drink enough beer to make 350-pound men hurling themselves at each other for 30 seconds at a time between 8 minutes of commercials seem interesting (111 million gallons, if you were wondering).
Some seem to be content with setting out a spread laden with emulsified processed meats colorized with oleoresin of paprika. Stack this on top of Ritz cracker with some Cheese Whiz and you have the Americanized grotesque of the classic pre-match feast common across all of Italy. Swap out the local red wine for flat light beer and the misery is complete.
But it doesn’t have to be this way.
Take a page from the Italians’ playbook. The substance might be the same — meat and cheese — but the devil, as they say, is in the details. You know, of course, to start with quality salumi. But you may need a primer in prep. Who me? you are asking. Yes, you. On a recent trip to the meat case we came across offerings from Creminelli Fine Meats in some high tech packaging. The wrappers all had those funny QR codes on them that you can scan with your smartphone. It looked like this:
And it led to this video of master salami maker Cristiano Creminelli demonstrating his preferred methods for how he’d like to see you preparing and serving his salami:
So, yes, after cutting the casing off (a simple and light slice down the length once the end has been lopped off and the casing should easily peel away) you may be tempted to chop the salami into discs. But, as Cristiano demonstrates, in Parma the preferred method is to hold the knife at an angle and make diagonal slices across the bias.
And why? Well, good question. “It’s done because it’s a tradition,” says Cristiano, one observed in the areas around Parma and in Piedmont where he is from.
“It makes it look like you’re getting more,” Justin Soelberg, head chef at Communal in Provo, Utah offered. Cristiano conceded, “It could be that it makes the slices larger.”
We also put the question to someone who knows her way around a knife, a sushi chef, who posited the reasons behind the diagonal slice had to be aesthetic.
Whichever way you slice the salami, and whether you are watching men kick a ball or kick each other, you are going to need something to quench your thirst. Cristiano says he really likes his Casalingo Salami with a blonde beer.
If you want to pair your slicing method with the region your wine comes from (and really, who wouldn’t) try something like a Valpolicella Classico, a red wine blend of three indigenous grapes (Corvina and Rondinella and Molinara) from a DOC in northeastern Italy. It’s not a heavy wine, and has a hint of smoky, meaty character that pairs well with dried meats. Wines with the Classico designation from this region are widely available, but if you can’t get your hands on a bottle any medium-bodied dry red wine will have you craving the fat and earthy flavors in the sausage.
The downside is, the bottle probably won’t fit in your beer guzzler helmet.
AvroKO To Open Napa Valley Restaurant
AvroKO, the New York-based design and concpeting house, has begun construction on its next owned and operated venture. But this one is far from from the bright lights of the big city (even further than Brooklyn): You’ll find the new eatery in downtown Napa.
AvroKO has had a hand in such boites as The Stanton Social, European Union, and The Monday Room in New York, where it also designed and ran Double Crown, and continues to run Public. In the Bay Area, AvroKO pitched in on the concept, and designed and made custom furniture for Michael Mina’s RN-74 in San Francisco.
Butchery aficionados will, of course, recognize the company as the design force behind the meat-hook-heavy Quality Meats in midtown New York.
The new, as yet unnamed, restaurant, will occupy an old building on the increasingly revitalized stretch of Main Street Napa that also plays host to relatively new spots from Morimoto and Tyler Florence. Crews are now at work renovating and AvroKOing the building, which last housed a bar called Fagiani’s and has been shuttered for nearly 40 years. And, as can be seen from the picture AvroKO posted to its Facebook page, the spot was once home to something called Thomas Restaurant. Which is only related to that other famed Napa restaurant with a Thomas in the kitchen in that Mr. Keller unsuccessfully made a bid for the building before AvroKO snagged it.
Love Me Tenderloin
America and Meat. The two go together like heart attacks and cholesterol. Clark Gable and misogyny. Mitt Romney and meh.
And now there is an art project and forthcoming handsome coffee table book at the nexus of these two great institutions called, appropriately, Meat America. We’re not running for office during this primary season (so please stop begging, republican party brass), but if we were, we’d have photographer and food stuffs designer Dominic Episcopo make the posters: we are thinking maybe a “Heart and Chuck” platform, just so Sarah Palin could ask us, “How’s that hearty chucky thing working out for you.” Our answer, as usual, would be a satisfied belch.
"Elvis Tenderloin" by Dominic Episcopo
‘The Table Comes First’
Adam Gopnik calls the table “the thing we ride down the river of our existence.” He explained to Charlie Rose this week that the title of his new book, “The Table Comes First,” came out of something that Chef Fergus Henderson of St. John once said to him in full Brit pique:
Now tell us that’s not just about the best name you’ve ever heard for a book about food.
Pizza Is Not A Vegetable: Sign The Petition
The DNC is leading a very simple initiative. It’s calling on the American people to sign a petition addressed to the House telling them that pizza is not a vegetable. Yes, they are doing it to be dicks, in the same way that Republicans passed a resolution reaffirming “In God We Trust” as out national motto after President Obama stated E Pluribus Unum was the motto — just to be dicks.
This is stems, of course, from the passage of a school lunch bill in the House that had a provision reaffirming that a slice of pizza with two tablespoons of tomato paste on it would count as a serving of a vegetable. Obama signed the bill, but Dems are not having it.
We all know that tomatoes are a fruit, and so, pizza should obviously be considered a fruit. And what about a Hawaiian pizza? Well that’s two servings of fruit. And also a serving of vegetables if we get our way and meat is considered salad.
Anyhow, the DNC’s approach is considerably more sober than ours. The petition reads:
Dear House Republicans,
Pizza is not a vegetable.
Sincerely,
America
Sign it here.
Jack White and The Art of the Contrived Collectible
The Black Belles, an all-girl goth-rock band and the latest from producer Jack White, just played a trio of east coast dates in support of the act that would be the Butcher Blog’s house band if we, you know, had a house: Les Butcherettes.
In releasing the Black Belles self-titled debut, M. White and his Third Man Records are doing something that tickles the heart of our inner 14-year-old: talking up an offensive “banned” original cover. Yes it reminds of the Geffen Records ploy on Guns ‘N’ Roses Appetite for Destruction, which came complete with famously banned-for-being-offensive album art. Admittedly the Axl-approved robot rapist was actually pretty offensive.
The Belles are keeping their own banned-for-being-offensive album art under wraps until a show and album release party at Third Man Records’s record store in Nashville on Friday (where it will be available on “absinthe vinyl” no less — talk about your manufacturing of a collectible). Until then we can only marvel at the artwork on the single “Honky Tonk Horror”:
And the also banned-for-being-offensive video for the same single in which lead singer Olivia Jean repeatedly screams “I’ve been a bad girl” between footage of the girls a-going a-hangin’ (yeah, guess that could be misconstrued):
Burger at Tiffany’s
Feeding a Foie Gras Fancy
Kudos to Plate, a magazine for food professionals, for going on an all-out foie gras onslaught today, posting recipes for twists on the divisive delectable that range from wrapping it in jerky to creative confections (foie gras cocoa Napoleon, anyone?) to an over-the-top cassoulet.
The recipes come from Simon Purvis of the Four Seasons in Jackson Hole, Pichet Ong on Pong in New York, and Mark Hopper of Bouchon of Vegas (where else would you get a foie gras cassoulet?), respectively.
Come on California chefs, get on it. Time’s a-ticking.
Wondering What the Staff at El Bulli Ate? [Video]
If you were wondering what the staff at El Bulli ate during family meal, well the answered in the video teaser for Ferran Adrià’s new book, The Family Meal. And the answer is basically the same odd goulash and stews familiar to anyone who’s eaten a staff meal at any restaurant, except since this is El Bulli, we’re talking about fish heads (without the eyeballs, which would be served later on gold-leaf flakes later on or something, of course) and the like serving as the base.
The Tall Tale of How Chris Got Its Ruth’s
What’s in an apostrophe? And how much history can one of those little marks encompass?
For anyone who’s familiar with how Mario’s Italian Restaurant became Jim’s Mario’s on Taxi, or how, say, a tiny babershop in Dobbs Ferry, NY, long known as Tony’s became Gino’s Tony’s, you’ll have an inkling as to how the now pervasive Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse got its additional possessive.
But just an inkling.
And this is because we’re talking about a New Orleans tale. And the full tale is told in The Gorilla Man and the Empress of Steak (University Press of Mississippi), written by Randy Fertel, whose mother, Ruth, founded the steakhouse and whose father, Rodney, once ran for mayor of New Orleans on the platform that the city’s zoo needed a gorilla.
Roy Blunt, Jr said of the memoir, “Lots of New Orleans history in this family story, which is wilder than the gorillas and almost as juicy as the steaks.”
For a taste of the tale, watch this mini-doc created by the University of Mississippi:
Feeding Frenzy
A couple of weeks ago, our friends at The Whole Beast, which specializes in cooking whole animals, took on the task of feeding the hungry hordes at the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival in Golden Gate Park (which regularly brings out up to 500,000 people). John Fink and his crew prepared lamb gyros of whole lambs they cooked in the park in the massive undertaking. One onlooker described Fink as pushing through like “a B-17 bombardier” — a bombardier who butterflies lambs for hours on end.
Here are the final numbers for The Whole Beast’s weekend:
28 whole lambs
1,000 lbs of potatoes for french fries
350 lbs of Mangalista (or “Wooly Pig”) fat rendered into lard
70 gallons of yogurt for sauce (which came donated in individual 6 oz packages)
40 lbs of porcini mushrooms
4 festival staffers to help lift the grilling rig onto the truck’s hitch
3 all-nighters to prep
The line for The Whole Beast's Lamb Gyros
This is real. You can drink this. If you’re a fucking asshole.
Too bad about Leib Family Cellars marketing staff burning in hell.
The Daily Show’s Samantha Bee said it best when she said, “This is real. You can drink this. If you’re a fucking asshole.”
