Humbling Win, Humbling Experience
Apr 26th, 2010 | By Hank Shaw | Category: Charcuterie, French | Comments | 39 Comments |
Photo by John Valls
First things first: As many of you already know, I won the Best Blog award from the International Association of Culinary Professionals during the group’s annual conference in Portland last week.
Being named as the top food blogger by the largest professional culinary organization in America (and, as its name is “international association,” I suppose the world, too) is pretty cool, to say the least. But make no mistake: Among the attendees of IACP, this and $1.50 will get you a cup of coffee.
I was in Portland four days, and in that period no less than 10 times I had a conversation with someone who seemed either a) normal, or b) a little socially awkward, whom I later learned was a Really Big Deal in the food world. For example, when he came up to congratulate me, I did not recognize Andrew Schloss, whose NY Times’ bestseller Mastering the Grill is one of my go-to references on outdoor cooking.
Another time, a woman sitting next to me and I were making snarky comments about some seminar speakers; turns out she has her own show on Food Network. I was dumbfounded to learn that Chef Brad Farmerie of Public (and Next Iron Chef) reads this blog. And finally there was the dinner with Jack Czarnecki, a great guy to have dinner with — who, oh, has written several James Beard Award-winning books, owns a prestigious restaurant and is the only purveyor of all-natural Oregon white truffle oil. My head is still spinning.
Everyone I met was modest, fun to be around — and seemed genuinely interested in what everyone else was doing. Yet all weekend I felt like driftwood awash in an endless sea of culinary knowledge; everyone knew so much. The thought occurred to me that I could live to be a thousand years old and still not know the half of it.
This feeling came to a head Sunday in a little kitchen on a side street in Portland, where Camas Davis of the Portland Meat Collective (a very PDX name) was hosting two visitors from Gascony – Kate Hill and Dominique Chapolard – who would show a dozen of us how the French butcher a pig.
Photo by John Valls
Kate runs cooking schools in Gascony, and Dominique is a master butcher nearby. Like every butcher I have ever known, Dominique looks the part. Dominique sports the bushy moustache and beret that scream “Frenchman!” Cue Maurice Chevalier…
Beret or no, lemme tell ya that Dominique knows his stuff. His shop butchers about 450 pigs a year, making pates, charcuterie, fresh sausages, boudin noir, and a host of fresh cuts. Now don’t get me wrong: I know my way around a hog. Coming into the seminar, I was hoping to pick up a few pointers here and there. But as he showed us how he does things, I was scribbling so many notes my pen ran dry. And this is just how this one man cuts his meat. What about butchers in Normandy? Or Spain? Italy, Germany or Mexico?
The first thing I learned was not so surprising — that it all starts with the hogs. What was interesting was their farming program: The Chapolards don’t slaughter their pigs until they are a year old and weigh about 280 or so pounds. They’re fed a mix of corn, wheat, barley, oats, fava beans and sunflower seeds. After all this, they are somehow still leaner than the pigs my friend John Bledsoe raises in Yolo County; Hill and Chapolard used one of Bledsoe’s pigs for a demo they did in Sonoma a few weeks ago.
Photo by John Valls
You start by cleaving the head. Upside down, tongue already removed, snout toward you. Be good with a cleaver and it’ll only be a matter of a couple chops. Like brains? They poach the pig brain gently and serve it with lemon.
The French don’t make guanciale with the whole jowl. They slice off the fattest part of the cheek and use it for paté. The rest is part of what they call paté du tête, which I call coppa di testa. Chapolard brines his hogsheads for a week before making the paté, which uses the tongue as its centerpiece.
The ears go into boudin or are sold as is to little old ladies.
First cut on the body is — as it should be — the tenderloin, on the underside of the ribs. Then go the flank steaks and any trimmy bits. One pile for sausage, and another for really skeevy bits that will go into paté — even silverskin, which I found amazing. it gets cooked, then ground.
“The goal is to throw nothing away,” Kate said. “As a pig farmer, you don’t want to waste anything you spent a year raising.”
Dominique cut his hams weird, too. After whacking off the trotters and hocks the way we would, he then sawed off the whole backbone just in front of the ham. I would have taken it out at the ball joint. What this does is get the large piece of meat out of the way and also defines the end of the longe, or loin — backstrap to me and my fellow hunters.
Photo by John Valls
The French don’t like ribs. But they do like their pork belly, mostly as ventreche, which is their version of bacon. So Dominique slipped his boning knife just under the ribs and cut all the way up to where they met the loin. Off came a huge belly portion. I’d never seen this before, and I can’t wait to put it into practice.
He then skinned the belly — made it look deceptively easy, as skinning a hog is no fun, and would have salted the belly, then rolled it and smoked it had he been home in Gascony. Unlike Italian pancetta or lardo, ventreche is not dry-cured. I need to make some…
The loin he sliced off whole, the way we do as hunters. In the market, they sell pieces of the loin by length, so it stays moister; cut ends can dry out.
Of the whole demonstration, Dominique’s handling of the front shoulder was the most revelatory. I hate dealing with the front shoulders of critters. Lots of connective tissue and funky angles on the bones. I’ve braised whole front legs of deer to good effect, and I’ve randomly hacked off the top part of a wild boar shoulder in a rough approximation of a Boston butt.
But Dominique waxed poetic (in French) about the glories of the coppa, which is the same thing in Italian: It is the top of the Boston butt, or the highest part of the pig’s shoulder. Still laced with fat and meat and connective tissue, but easier to cook and, if the pig was fat, essentially self-basting. The coppa you eat as a cured meat is from this part of the hog.
Below that is the bulk of the shoulder. Working from side that had faced the interior of the pig, Dominique sliced halfway through the wide shoulder blade, the plat, as he called it. When he got to the joint, he switched directions to follow the bone’s path. He sliced through the joint and then yanked the shoulder blade back, miraculously popping the meat free of the bone. With only a few extra slices and trimming cuts (into the sausage pile), Dominique had made two very nice roasts from what I’ve only hacked into sausage meat.
Watching all this made me want to run for my copy of Jane Grigson’s classic, Charcuterie and French Pork Cookery, which describes these cuts in detail and provides all kinds of recipes for them. Grigson’s book isn’t really illustrated so it was hard to envision her dishes before I saw Dominique put all this into focus.
Photo by John Valls
Afterwards we all got to do a little cutting ourselves, and we finished with a lunch of charcuterie, both foreign and domestic. I was especially happy with Dominique’s coppa and an intriguing “ham” cut from the back leg of the pig, salted, lightly smoked and hung: noix de jambon. It was eerily like the Italian lonzino I make, only mine uses the loin, not a chunk of the ham.
As we talked, Kate mentioned that, well, you know, she is in Gascony, and that it happens to be the epicenter of duck and goose cookery in France. She told me about one astoundingly good recipe for duck tripe she’d learned from an old woman who lived nearby.
I consider myself something of a Jedi master in the art of waterfowl cookery. I can and do use everything but the quack on a routine basis. But duck tripe? That’s a new one. If I am a Jedi of duck cooking, then Yoda lives in Gascony. And she’s an old woman.
I must meet her, because while I may not live to be a thousand, I want to drink from the ocean as long as I can. It was an amazing week.
______
PS: I’d like to thank photographer John Valls for the images in this post. If you like his work, there’s more on his website.
PPS: Michael Ruhlman was at the demo held the day before and had a similarly excellent — and humbling — experience.
Hearty congratulations, Hank! And a great post, to boot. Duck tripe definitely sounds like something I’d take a liking to.
Hank, I’m curious. With regard to the noix de jambon, did they cut the “heart” of the leg? Sounds a lot like Culatello.
Congratulations! This post is awesome. Very informational and intriguing. I would love to hear about the duck tripe.
OK, now I’m dying to know what the little old ladies in Gascony do with the pigs ears. Seems to me there must be some better destiny for them than giant Costco bags of dog chew-toys.
Congratulations, Hank… I am feeling this is going to be your triple crown year!!! ON to Beard!
Congrats to you!
Congrats again, Hank! And that is some fancy butchering…fascinating.
Thanks Hank for your kind words. Dominique and I had a wonderful time sharing Gascony with everyone in PDX (Sonoma & Seattle, too!). there’s more to learn in Gascony- a hot bed of traditions and great food. see you there soon. the ducks and their tripe are waiting.
Josh: I figured as much. But don’t eat your little friends! They’re too good at laying eggs right now.
Scott: No, he cut the opposite side, than long, lozenge-shaped roast you get that’s in front of the culatello.
Holly: I think they put them in soup. I will try crispy-frying them again, but I promise I will not blow up the kitchen like last time…
Kate: 100,000 thank yous! I had a blast, and I am conspiring to head to France at some point in the next year to learn about ducks from Madam Yoda…
Congratulations! And you keep teaching us so much, too…
Hank,
congratulations on your award, as it is well-deserved! I recently started reading your blog (as soon as I found out about it) and I find myself learning so much, thank you!
Congrats all the way around, and well deserved! The pig butchery class looks fascinating. I met Camas last fall during a similar event in which a few of us read our work aloud while a pig was butchered for the audience. Very cool stuff happening in PDX.
Bravo!! It is always good to hear of humble success in this world of excess. It is not how high we rise but the heart felt satisfaction to look around at the friendships and knowledge we gain along the way. Excellent achievement!!! I gotta try that shoulder cut that sounds sweet.!!! June tides are just around the corner. That means it is Horseneck time. Search out the Large diameter PVC. Let me know if you find extra.
Congratulations on your win at IACP! You deserve the accolades.
I’ve been interested in learning some butchery. Know of any way to do it in the Sacramento area?
Hi Hank,
Congrats on the award.
As I tried to point out last Saturday morning before I had to leave, both presenters were showing their “personal” methods of butchering. (Remember the old tale of six blind men and the elephant?) I don’t know if Dominique is typical of Gascony butchers, but his methods are different from other French butchers I’ve had the opportunities to watch in other parts of France. And his method in Portland was, for the most part, different than in Sonoma the previous weekend.
I’m no professional, but I heartily agree with the IACP in awarding you the winner of Best Blog! Congratulations!
Here’s hoping that this is just a sign of things to come. I’ve still got my fingers crossed.
Fan-freaking-tastic, Hank! You’ve made the rest of us gun-totin’ gourmands proud. Keep up the great work.
I’m adding my congratulations for your award – and well deserved too.
I check your blog regularly for inspiration, and I have managed one or two recipes but I’m definitely out of my depth when it comes to the culinary skills required. That said, the recipes and guidance included has helped me to improve my techniques. I’m really grateful. Thanks for giving a hand up to us newcomers!
Congrats Hank, you certainly deserve it! Your skills and desire to continue expanding your techniques are an inspiration, there is always something new to learn.
Lang: Huh?! Only in Portland…
Alan: What width PVC again? I can scope out Lowe’s. And I should be good to go in June. Lemme know when the good tides are, and I can go on weekdays, too.
Phil: Taylor’s Market does demos sometimes. And I might set up a demo soon. Will keep you posted.
Peter: I suspected as much. Butchering seems to me to be jazz – there are fundamental rules in play, but everyone interprets those rules personally. By the way, I dig your knife skills book…
Glenn: Ain’t it cool? I feel like wearing camo to the awards…
Jen: Not all of my recipes are that tough, are they? Although I am planning one tonight that is something of a high-wire act…
Hank, if I were you right now, when I got home I’d have to enter my house through the garage, because my head would be too big to fit through the front door! CONGRATS ON THE WIN!!!!!!
Sounds like a great experience. I’ve been giving a lot of thought to my choices when cutting my next pig. The more I do it, the more I realize that the choices are modestly overwhelming – and your post adds further complexity. I heart pigs.
[...] I was lucky to have met Hank Shaw (IACP 2010 Top Food Blogger at: honest-food.net) who was writing for his blog and asked me to send some pics to him. You can read his great piece here [...]
Congratulations. I envy your
experience and talent.
ofs
Here’s info about a free seam butchery tutorial on how to cut Mangalitsa pigs, from Christophe Wiesner:
http://woolypigs.blogspot.com/2010/03/first-mangalitsa-processing-tutorial.html
I’ve seen Wiesner and Chapolard cut up pigs. They cut them very differently.
Wiesner spends a lot more time removing individual bones, and he uses the saw a lot less. Chapolard produces a lot more trim than Wiesner.
Wiesner has a particular technique that he uses to remove muscles and silverskins, intact, from bones. Basically, one cuts all the way through the membrane to the bone, then peels back the piece and uses the back of the knife to scrape where the membrane meets the bone, removing a whole muscle or muscle group intact. Wiesner spends a lot of time scraping, not cutting – particularly when taking out the aitchbone. I didn’t see Chapolard do anything similar.
My guess is that each butcher has optimized the cutting for his pigs; Christophe’s pigs cost a lot more to produce than Chapolard’s, so it pays for him to invest more labor so as to have higher yields.
Congrats Hank! You sure deserve it. Hope you have another great year and looking forward to your book.
Heath’s point is a good one. I also feel that end use – so what sells well at the market, or what one would use at home – will largely dictate approach.
A friend was over last night and showed me photos of pig head confit. It’s on my list of things to try. Apparently there’s a choice bit around the temple…
Matt: Did you see the South Park where everyone gives themselves testicular cancer so they can get medical marijuana? If not, you need to see it – THAT was the image I had in my head when you said my head would be too big to fit in the door. Not a pretty mental sight…
OFS: Long time no hear! How u be? We need to go snipe hunting in Florida this winter…
Heath: Thanks a heap for the link! You and others a re definitely showing me that breaking down an animal is both intensely personal and focused on the ends – what you are going to do with said critter.
Kevin: Pig head confit? Huh. There’s a ton of fat and connective tissue in a head already. Might be good, might be weird. But I can attest to that temple piece! It is the most fought-over nugget at Virginia pig-pickins, where they slow BBQ the whole hog.
Congratulations mate – modesty aside this is ALL richly deserved.
SBW
Hank — Wooly Pigs trained our slaughterhouse in MO to cut pigs the way they do in Austria. You can see more about that here:
http://woolypigs.blogspot.com/2010/04/swiss-meat-and-sausage-company-extreme.html
http://woolypigs.blogspot.com/2010/01/austrian-cuts.html
I’m just going to guess that no company in the USA cuts pigs as precisely as Swiss does right now – for the simple reason that nobody else is raising such expensive pigs.
Anyway, I’m extending you a personal invitation: if you can make it to Swiss, MO, you are welcome to watch them kill and cut my Mangalitsa pigs. They’ll show you how they do what they do. You can eat some of my fantastic lardo too, and try out our works in progress.
Loved hanging out w you!
You ‘n Holly
Come over here in Florida and we’ll fish, you guys hunt (I’ll cook)
jaden
[...] Here are two fun reviews of the IACP Meat Revival culinary demo, which occured at the Art Institute Culinary School last Saturday morning. The program was organized by the Portland Meat Collective founder Camas Davis. Presenters included Kate Hill, French butcher Dominique Chapolard, Adam Sappington of The Country Cat, and food writer Michael Rhulman. See Rhulman’s review here. And writer Hank Shaw’s review here. [...]
[...] I can speak for the work, the care, and the understanding of the foundation of the Chapolard farm as they transform fertile fields that lay across the Gascon landscape in yearly rotations of wheat corn, barley, peas, beans, and sunflowers. Theirs is an edible patchwork stitched by hand on battered tractors and harvesters that run on sunflower oil. As award winning blogger Hank Shaw writes, “The first thing I learned was not so surprising — that it all starts with the hogs.” You can read more of Hank’s humble words at http://www.honest-food.net/blog1/2010/04/26/humbling-win-humbling-experience/ [...]
Signor, Congrats again! I was at the Saturday workshop. Fantastic. If you’ld like to pull apart a whole pig sometime, let me know. I can get a 150 pounder dressed from a Portuguese farmer south of Stockton if you’re game. Well, I know you’re game, but are you also domestic? Seriously, blood and guts especially.
You describe “Pate du tete” It is pate de tete.
tete is feminine so it is “de la tete” = de tete
and not “de le tete” = du tete
the french teacher
Late! It was great meeting you at that thing. Next time we’ll do dinner at my house.
[...] Hank Shaw: http://honest-food.net/2010/04/26/humbling-win-humbling-experience/ [...]