Bigos, or Polish Hunter's Stew

Winter solstice is here, and the shortest day and longest night is upon us. I love celebrating this event, because it means we are on the way back to longer and warmer days. Even though it won't feel like it's happening for a long time, it's still happening. The days will soon be getting longer.

As we dip into the thick of winter, I have noticed that now is also when the freezer and cupboards start to take a hit. The freezer is already low, and I will have to start looking for good prices on good local meat, in large quantities, which is how I generally work it. I was hoping for a friend to get a doe or two this season, and I was going to help her break it down. I was really excited for this: venison kielbasa, venison salami! But it didn't happen. Deer season came and went. That's when I thought I might make rabbit. I've been thinking of rabbit for a while now. And I searched high and low, but no luck.

What I was looking to make was buttermilk fried rabbit, a recipe from Georgia Pellegrini's new book, Girl Hunter: Revolutionizing the Way We Eat, One Hunt at a Time. An advance copy was recently sent to me by the publisher and I inhaled it, as fast as I could, ready to make one of these recipes.  But, the only place that had rabbit, had it frozen and $10 a pound, and I just couldn't pay $30 for rabbit. It seemed ironic to me that driving home the other day I passed a rabbit on my street that had been hit by a car. It's not a common sighting in my neighborhood, although we do have rabbits around. I couldn't help but to think, as it was quite fresh, hmmm. Is that my rabbit? But, I'm not that hardcore, and I do have a couple of squeamish bones in my body, so I declined the free meat. My fear made me think of Georgia, and her book, and what she does. One of the notes I wrote to myself as I read the sneak peak at her book was this: that woman does not look away. She is incredibly brave. She does it in a very subtle manner, so that you don't notice her grit, but once you start thinking about it you see it everywhere. There's also this: she's a great writer, of stories and recipes.

The book is laid out, somewhat similarly to her first book, Food Heroes, as journeys that focus on a type of game that she learns to hunt. There are colorful characters, mostly men, and Georgia  holds her own among them. It's a gripping and solemn book despite the somewhat tongue-in-cheek title, mostly because she takes it so seriously, both the hunting and the ethics behind what she's doing. There is some fun, a hunt across the pond that sounded like a lot of fun, and lots of whiskey drinking (though it seems no one gets drunk). I did wish I heard about some other women hunters, because they are out there. But, it's not a how-to or an overview, it's one woman's personal foray into the world of hunting,  and how it takes over her life. Let's not forget: there are many fine recipes, both for the game she hunts and their accompaniments, brines and sauces, etc. The last thirty pages or so of the book are really a quite fabulous cookbook.

As I continue to make my way in a life that favors a peasant-y, home made and home grown foods, I have often wondered when I might consider hunting. One of the things I want to start with is fishing. I'll be honest and say that I'm not sure I could be a good hunter. But I do know I am a decent home butcher, so maybe that's a start. Hunting seems to have gotten a bad rap over the past fifty years, and I wish industrialized meat had gotten it instead. Maybe we can work on that.

In the meantime, instead of rabbit or venison, today I'm making Bigos, the Polish hunter's stew, I think it's a fitting meal for a short, cold day and a nod to the hunter. Traditionally, Bigos was a winter dish, sometimes left on the stove to cook for a week, new ingredients added as they were taken out. It was also something served on the 2nd day of Christmas, so I am close. There is no set way to make it, or at least according to me, you may disagree if you are Polish! Lots of meat and lots of cabbage is the general rule. Some folks use tomatoes, I never do. I used only ham hocks for this one, but pork shoulder, sausage (kielbasa, of course) and bacon is the norm. I found that the ham I made over the summer goes very well in this, too, which is good because I've got a ton of ham steaks in the freezer.

Bigos

2 medium onions, chopped coarsely
2 carrots, peeled and chopped in two (go ahead and dice if you like, I prefer large chunks of carrot)
2 medium potatoes, peeled, diced
1 medium head of cabbage, sliced finely for a nice shred
1 to 2 cups of sauerkraut
meat: kielbasa, bacon, ham hock, ham steak, venison, etc., fresh or cooked, chopped how you like it
salt and pepper to taste
secret ingredient: 1-2 tablespoons of candied pickled apples (recipe from Liana Krissoff's wonderful book, Canning for a New Generation. I can't live without this stuff!)

Sauté the onions in olive oil (or bacon fat, if you have it) until golden brown. Add the meat, and brown it. In my case, I used one large ham hock, so I just put it in on top of the onions and started adding everything around it. After browning---less if the meat is cooked already, like ham or kielbasa, a little more if it needs to be cooked---add all the rest of the ingredients. (It will be cooking for an hour or two, so no worries about being cooked through.) At this point you could take the whole shebang to a slow cooker to finish it off, which I sometimes do, with great results. Otherwise, keep it in your pot or Dutch or French oven, and cover it, keeping it at a low simmer. The cabbage will release it's water and create a great broth. You don't want too much liquid, as bigos is a dry-ish stew. Cook it for about an hour and a half. The potatoes and carrots should be tender. If you are willing to last longer, go for three hours. That's why the crock pot is nice.

Traditionally, bigos is served with mashed potatoes. Obviously, I don't do this, and instead put my potatoes right in the stew, making this a one pot (or maybe two) dish. When it's ready, I just serve hot bowls of it, with some warmed rye bread and butter.

Bratwurst

This month's Charcutepalooza challenge, to me at least, was stuffing my sausages. The real one was emulsification -- the focus of which is blending, which results in a smooth-textured sausage. But for me, I was still concerned about how to actually stuff. Not the how-to, but the actual doing. Last month, I was lucky enough to cross paths with Peter and Winnie, and we got to use Peter's KitchenAid. This month, I went out and finally purchased a meat grinder after deliberating whether or not to finally break down and buy a KitchenAid. It was cheaper to buy the grinder, and with two cars on their way out, I can't be too expansive. I bought this, a Waring Pro MG100, which was about $100:

The culprit.

I can't say I recommend it. The short answer: it's going back to the store. Ends up, the worm, for whatever reason, likes to fall out of the motor housing (did I say that right?), and it just plain doesn't work. On the Amazon page there are a bunch of comments discussing this particular flaw, which I neglected to read before purchasing the machine. I was able to grind the meat, and fill two sausages before it stopped working entirely. Thankfully, my neighbor heard about my troubles and brought over her KitchenAid and meat grinding attachment. Aren't neighbors grand? I might not ever buy anything, but just borrow her KitchenAid every few months. 

Beautiful brats. Only two, but still beautiful.

It did grind the meat though, and much faster and nicer than the hand grinder, which couldn't really chew up the sinewy pork too well. I ate my breakfast sausage the other day, again for breakfast and also dinner, it was so good. I did notice that although it was very tasty, the texture left something to be desired, and it was due to the hand grinding. And that machine did work lovely for the two large sausages I was able to fill.

I served my dinner of bratwurst with some of the first local-ish corn I saw in the market. It was from New Jersey, and I just couldn't resist. It delivered. The corn was sweet and creamy, the perfect addition to the meal. And the bread was homemade sourdough that I toasted in the pan after cooking the brats. But where was the sauerkraut? 

The beginning of lettuce kraut.

Well, a week before I had harvested a huge amount of kale and lettuce from the garden, and I thought: why not kale kraut? Of course, it's not an original thought. I found this post from The Simple Green Frugal Co-Op, which I used as inspiration. And it's such a simple recipe that it would be silly to re-write here. Go and visit! I made a quart of lettuce and a quart of kale. The finished product is a mite salty, but goes well as a condiment. It doesn't have the tartness of cabbage kraut. The kale kraut was lovely alongside the brats. I also made a romaine lettuce kraut, which makes a great sandwich topping. What's wonderful about these ferments, is that they take only a few days. So you will have your sauerkraut just in time for your bratwurst.

Sweet, Sweet Italian Sausage

Welcome to the half-year mark of Charcutepalooza! This month's challenge was stuffing sausages. And I'll tell you, that is a beautiful thing. I sort of feel like this might be my worst Charcutepalooza post, as my mind is a million other places right now, but by far it was the most fun. Indeed, I had so much fun, and enjoyed my sausages so much, that I neglected to take any really wonderful photographs, except for that one above. I had the great good fortune to work alongside Winnie from Healthy Green Kitchen, and Peter from Cookblog. Both Winnie and Peter are people I not only admire greatly for their intelligence, expertise, sense of aesthetic and wicked humor, but they are also just really great people. I was really surprised at how comfortable it was to get together with a few folks, stand around a KitchenAid with a grinder attachment and fill hog casings with ground meat. 

Can I tell you also about how easy it was to fill the sausages? But really, it's one of those things that you need to do, to feel, to understand. We brought our already ground sausage, chilled and ready to go. Peter, who is the pro in this case, kept the hopper filled, and Winnie and I experienced the filling of the casings. I was a little worried about twisting them off, but ends up you don't have to. Fill your sausages and then twist them after, when they are inert and laying on the counter. Like animal balloons. It's actually a lot of fun. 

Here's my sausage story: when I was a kid I would help my father make sausages. It was not uncommon in my house to find a small plastic container of hog casings packed in salt in the door of the fridge. We had a little electric grinder, and watching the meat push through the cutting plate was better than any plastic Play Doh toy. I've been telling my Dad about my adventures in sausages, and this makes him very pleased. (Happy Father's Day, Dad!)

My learning curve: left, a squiggly beginning, right is the stout end.

My sausage was a very basic Italian, pretty much from the book, Charcuterie. I omitted (forgot?) the black pepper, and used a lemon thyme pickle brine instead of the red wine vinegar. Because our plans to meet came together rapidly, I didn't really have time to think about it. I had 2.5 pounds of pork, cubed and ready to go, in the freezer. I had the foresight to purchase five pounds of pork fat back and freeze it in one pound packs. The day we made plans, I grabbed the pork and put it in the fridge, along with the fat. That night, I ground them, still crunchy with frost, with my old hand grinder that I swore I wouldn't use again. It wasn't as bad as the first time (maybe because I had a hungry family to feed the first time, and this was at night, alone). One of the great things I learned about this challenge was that I do indeed want a dedicated sausage grinder. Maybe I even need one. Did you know that you can also use your grinder as a food mill? As long as you are scrupulously clean, applesauce and tomato sauce can also be processed in a meat grinder. I have not done this personally, but do intend to try.

On that night, returning from the sausage stuffing event, it was hot as blazes out and what better meal to have then the sausages I traded with Peter and Winnie. I think I got the better end of the deal. Winnie made merguez, which reminded me of a place I used to eat at in Brooklyn called Oznot's Dish, where I used to get the outrageously good merguez with eggs. Winnie's merguez took me right back. And Peter's Spanish Chorizo, whoah. Perfectly subtle and outrageous at the same time. I had the sausages with a small, barely dressed salad, and it made for such a exquisite meal. Even though it was thrown together. Even though I was sitting at the kitchen table with bare feet, and a toddler across from me was eating plain noodles with his hands.

My Italians.

As with anything you make or grow yourself, these sausages were transcendent. Really and truly they were something I chewed and sort of felt completely in the moment about. Or was I transported? I never know, in those moments, what it exactly is, but you get the idea. Is it better because it's better, or because you did it yourself? Both, I guess. I really wasn't expecting much from my sausages--sweet Italian, whatever, right? And I did love them. But upon further thought and research I wondered about my sausages. They didn't have the fat distinct from the meat, as they should have. Did the meat "break" I wonder? Apparently that would have rendered the sausage unpalatable. But I thought they were delicious, amazing, but maybe a bit too rich. This is also a sign of a not quite fully realized sausage. No matter. This is a mystery I intend to solve. I will continue this delicious research diligently. Thanks again, Charcutepalooza!

Do you know how hard it is to take a picture, when there is a hungry person behind you?

Breakfast and Dinner Sausage

Beer: necessity for making sausage?

Is it really already the fifth month of Charcutepalooza?? This fine month we worked on our grinding. Again, I give thanks for Charcutepalooza, because my two old hand-cranked grinders were gathering dust in the basement, waiting for me to use them. I promised them I would, but they keep on getting shuttled into a darker, farther corner of a cabinet or box. After the challenge was issued, I dutifully went downstairs and cleaned them off. Would they work? Did I have all the pieces? Was I crazy for collecting these things? Well, yes and no.

The bad grinder.

I started off with a beer, standard for sausage making, no? And the younger of the two grinders. I'm not sure what I might be missing, or if this thing is just a stinker, but boy was this grinder the worst. A pencil sharpener would have worked better. I promptly dispatched it to the sink and feeling downhearted, drank my beer. My husband cheered me (knowing if he didn't, dinner might just be peanut butter and jelly and not sausages), and I rallied with the next, older, ancient-looking grinder, also a Universal. The meat waited in the freezer while I gathered courage to try again.

The good grinder. More beer.

 This one worked. Quite well, in fact, in comparison to the hell that was the other one. I am SO glad I didn't do five pounds, though. And once I was done, it smelled incredibly good. I think I saw my husband wipe the sweat from his brow. He knows it's bad news if something pisses me off in the kitchen. And he didn't want PB&J's for dinner.

They are cool looking, though, aren't they? 

Breakfast (or Dinner?) Sausage Recipe:

2.5 pounds of pork butt shoulder
1.5 tablespoons of kosher salt
2 tablespoons of chopped fresh parsley
1 teaspoon of fresh lemon thyme
1 tablespoon of chopped garlic
a pinch of red pepper flakes
1/2 teaspoon of Meyer lemon zest
ground pepper to taste

I followed the breakfast sausage directionsin Charcuterie for making this.

Glorious pork.

The Meyer lemon zest was an after thought. When I opened the freezer to pull the meat out, there was my little container of zest in there. Perfect, I thought! It really added a fresh tanginess to the sausage, that went along perfectly with the fresh lemon thyme from my garden.

Who doesn't love a log of sausage?

I stuck this little log in the fridge alongside it's friend, the Canadian bacon. Now I have two more awesome breakfasts to look forward to. I know it's not exciting, but we had the sausage patties for dinner, with some fresh eggs and local asparagus. It was so delicious, I think I may rename my sausage dinner sausage. I really wanted to make the merguez, but I got caught up in some life stuff and so had to stick with the single challenge this month. Those grinders slowed me down a little, too. My next purchase is an electric grinder, because I need to make a LOT more sausage. Good thing it was my birthday the other day, so I can squeeze one last present out of it. 

Dinner!

French Lentils with Venison Kielbasa

This was inspired by those lovely little greenish-gray pastilles called French Lentils. I had them in the cupboard, bulk-style from the health food store. Also had some amazing Venison Kielbasa from the Smokehouse of the Catskills, a superlative German meat store in our area. Legumes and salty, cured meat. How can you go wrong?

In your trusty, sturdy soup pot sautee onions in olive oil, then carrots (you could add celery, but for some reason I never buy it; I should, but I don't), add a bay leaf, 1 1/2 cups of lentils, and six cups of water. Bring to a boil and let it simmer for a half hour. For fifteen minutes I had it covered, then I uncovered it to burn off some of the water. I didn't want soup, I wanted beans and sausage. When it seems like a lot of liquid was evaporated, I tossed in about 3/4 of a pound of sliced sausage. And, in about ten minutes I had a nice piping bowl of lentils. I served it with roasted smashed fingerling potatoes that a friend had grown and given to me. So good! Even your baby will like it. But I pulled the sausage; it was a little spicy.