I FINALLY FOUND IT !!! While this isn’t the original, it’s fricken’ close enough (a scan of the print). This here was my inspiration for naming this web site, Meathenge. I took this in the way way early 1990s, probably 15 years ago, eeek. If you want to read About Meathenge, click on the about link to the left there. As soon as I can, I’ll be putting it up there, some place. You bet.
Oh thank goodness, the Fatted Calf Newsletter just rolled in. It’s been a painfully dull week here in regard to food or anything food related. And I haven’t had the time to head out on a Meat Adventure, nope. I can say a Wood Adventure is coming soon though. No, not like that. Fancy cooking wood, that’s what I’m talking about. But I haven’t taken ownership of it yet, it’ll be a few days.
Until then I would personally like to thank the FC Newsletter for making my day brighter. While I sit in my office, I get visions of warm Saturday mornings walking up and down the farmer’s market. The pace is one of leisure with moments of inspiration as I notice new and fresh goodies. The maters have finally begun to show up tasty and the melons are still juicy, sweet and fragrant. Up at the top of the market I find my pals at Blue Bottle Coffee toiling away at water science and calming the jittery crowd. Tracy is always spot on with a cup o’ fresh drip, slurrrp. My pace usually slows at this point cause my coffee is really hot and I have 2 full bags of treasures that I need to balance, carefully. Up around the tippy top I get to put my bags down and hang out with Eric the Knife Guy. He’s got this little wobbly card table with all his tools, display and Mountain Dew linearly placed. It’s fun to see what knives, scissors and shears roll in. Last week he had an English slicing knife that was probably 80 some odd years old. One of the interesting points on this blade was that it had scalloped edges, like the newer kullen type knives. Eric said it was popular back then, but quickly fell out of favor. So, if you think that Kullen edge is so new and fancy, it ain’t. It’s been done and done 80 years ago by the English. HA !!!
On my way back I like to see what Ted from Highland Hills Farm is up to. His stall is usually piled high with meat and ice and more meat and ice and a scale. I search high and low for bacon, you know me. And I check out the menu for fresh goat, I love goat. Since Ted is a rancher and the rancher that ranches his heard, you can ask him all kinds of ranching questions. Such as, “Hey, it’s really hot, how are your cows doing in this heat?” And, “how’s the grass growing? It’s there enough for the cows?” You get the idea.
While Fatted Calf is always my first stop at the market, it’s also usually my last. Why? Because I get so giddy the first time, I can’t concentrate. Or I’m not awake yet and need some fresh cup o’ drip. I’m usually calm enough by pass #2 I can figure out what I need or want or really neeeeeed. Such as a carefully cured stick of salami, man love that stuff.
These are the bright day dreams the Fatted Calf Newsletter brings to me on these Thursdays when I’m a few days out. It speaks to me and says, “It’s okay Biggles, just a few more days until your rabbit crepinettes. You can make it, just a few more days.” Thanks again Newsletter, you’re the best.
Now please read on to the most fabulous FC Newsletter not written by me.
This week I rolled up my sleeves, fired up the big pot and began my late summer ritual of canning tomatoes. And every week from now until sometime in October when the crop thins and a dip in thermometer sends sugar levels plummeting, I will attempt, like a good little squirrel, to capture summer in a jar. To peek into my cabinet and see rows of whole San Marzanos with basil and garlic, Early Girl tomato puree and little jars of fiery tomato salsa gives me peace of mind. To pop off the lid of a jar of mixed heirlooms while the January rains pelt my kitchen window is to behold the vines, with their pungent scent, heavy with varicolored fruits warming their fleshy shoulders in the sun. A small ecstasy.
It’s hard not to get swept up in the tomato fever that’s hit the farmers’ market. I can never pass up a Brandywine with its thin skin nearly bursting with juice. Fat, salted slices stacked with a layer of crispy pancetta atop toasted campagne bread make a satisfying post market snack. Meaty, pink Cour di bue from Mariquita Farm have become a fast kitchen favorite. Their puree will make a splashy backdrop for this week’s Pork Brochettes with herbs de Provence. A ratatouille made with reliable Romas is my summer side of choice to pair with grilled Merguez. And when the fever has hit you hard, the tomatoes have overrun your countertop, the fruit flies are moving in and your loved ones are beginning to think that perhaps your exuberance for the savory orb has gone too far, it is time to brown up some fennel sausage, make a big pot of sauce and assuage their fears with the ripe, rich flavor of tomato.
See you at the market!
Saturday, August 19
Heritage Berkshire Pork Brochettes with Herbs de Provence
Rabbit Crepinettes with Nicoise Olives
Mexican Style Chorizo
Pâtés, Confits & Terrines
Guinea Hen Terrine
Duck Liver Mousse
Petit Sec Aux Herbes
Other Meaty Goods
Aw, man! That would make a perfect stage prop in a Spinal Tap movie!
That was a lot of meat, 9 pounds worth, grilled at once.
Naw, that was years ago when my palate was young. It wasn’t until I got much older that I could appreciate the sublties of Schlitz and BBQ.
Where the demons dwell
Where the banshees live
And they do live well
Where a man is a man
And the children dance to
The pipes of pan
‘Tis a magic place
Where the moon doth rise
With a dragon’s face
Where the virgins lie
And the prayer of devils
Fill the midnight sky
And you my love
Won’t you take my hand
We’ll go back in time
To that mystic land
Where the dew drops cry
And the cats meow
I will take you there
I will show you how
(Sung to the tune “Stonhenge” by Spinal Tap)—Thanks for the inspiration Cookie…I have a sister named Cookie! Hey Doctor B.—I’m putting this to new lyrics but will reveal them at a later date.
You brought a tear to my meat riddled eye bone. You totally made my week.
That’s beautiful, man. Just beautiful.
Funny thing is, I remember that day.