The Cowboy, the Expat, and the Englishman

I poked my head into the production room at the Chapolard’s farm.

Bonjour! Dominique?

One of the women making paupiettes at the metal table turned and yelled to Dominique, informing him a cowboy was here to see him. From out of the rear kitchen, he appeared, with a smile the size of his mustache. After catching up for a bit, he asked me if it was possible to start next Monday. A week to kill in the Gascony countryside?

C’est Bon. (it’s good) I replied.

“Also, is it possible for you to stay throughout August as well?” he asked.

Even better.

I knew Kate Hill, of the Kitchen-at-Camont, would need an extra hand that week – Tim Clinch, a well-traveled British photographer was at Camont to photograph some dishes for their upcoming book Food Stories from Gascony. Yearning to learn more about traditional French cuisine, I decided to spend the majority of my week there.

Every meal at Camont is so… French. The table is always set beforehand. More often than not, the table is laden with an array of cheeses, bread, water, wine, and charcuterie. Meals flow in the French manner:

• the starter (l’entrée),
• the main course (le plat principal),
• cheese (le fromage),
• dessert (le dessert),
• some sort of digestive, usually coffee (digestif/café),
• and of course, wine - usually Rosé

Walnut wine 

Time is taken to actually enjoy a meal and your company – you will be hard-pressed to find French people in the Gascony countryside that rush lunch.

When I arrived, Kate was putting the finishing touches on lunch. To be of use, I tried to set the table. The keyword is tried. I had yet to learn the proper French way to set a table. Luckily, Catherine was close by to teach me.

As lunch came out of the kitchen, Tim went to work with his camera and iPhone, carefully setting up his shots and paying great attention to his angles and lighting. Naturally, we started up what would be a week-long conversation about his many travels, shoots, and photography. He has some great tales and the guy has really done it all in the photography world.

Tim Clinch getting the right position.

Tim never misses a moment to take a picture.

After an exceptional lunch, we sprang into action. The three of us worked quite well together. Kate commanded the island counter slicing vegetables, simmering sauces, and producing the most enthralling aromas I have ever taken in. I took my place near the sink and dishwasher.

A great spot.

Here, I could knock out the dishes and peek over my shoulder every now and then to witness the magic taking place. Tim took his place at the small table in front of the island, editing photos and preparing for the next dish. When Kate would finish a dish, we all would converge on the predetermined propped, location to nail down a breathtaking photo – Tim wielding his two cameras, Kate styling the plate, and yours truly providing props and light via the massive reflector.

When it was time to shoot the côte de boeuf (ribeye), Kate put me in charge.

She trusts me with this?

Yes, she assured me, if I wanted to work with Francis Mallman, I would need to master the fire first.  Then she showed me how to construct an upside down fire in a metal wheel barrow.  Only then did she give me  instruction on how to best cook the steak. Once the wood had burned down to coals, I transferred the coals over to a small grille and plopped the côte de boeuf straight on the coals. It turned out marvelous!

My kind of grilling./

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Now everytime I stop by Camont for a meal, I assume my position next to the metal wheelbarrow, the adobe oven, and the grille. With Kate's guidance, I have learned to cook some really amazing dishes with fire.

Duck pâté serves with large capers and toast points.

Bacon, Kate's loyal companion, remained in the kitchen throughout the day in case any morsels fell to the ground.

Tim and Kate racked up some incredible food shots over the week. I was thrilled to lend a hand and be a part of it - even if in a small way.

Note: One part of Food Stories From Gascony will document the wide variety of people that pass through Kate's Kitchen at Camont. Tim thought a cowboy from Texas was interesting so he shot this:

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NOTE: Looking to experience France in a similar fashion? Kate hosts a variety of culinary courses at Camont from cooking to charcuterie. Check out her website and mosey on over to France for an unparalleled  gastronomic experience.

Tex-Mex Night in Italy

I’d like to think all the guys down at the celle liked me - either that or their interest was piqued by the Texan with knee-high cowboy boots and a ragged-out topper. By day two of my staging with Dario Cecchini, I was becoming accustomed to being referred to as either, “Chuck Norris” or “Walker Texas Ranger.”

Apparently, Italians are a bit behind on American television and pop culture. Walker Texas Ranger is the hot show in Panzano.

My hat was often used as a prop for the Italians enjoyment.

Riccardo (Dario’s number two man) went as far as playing the "Walker Texas Ranger" theme song at the celle while we worked – even those who couldn’t speak English sang along. He talked many times about cooking Tex-Mex food for me and so on my first off day, Riccardo threw a Tex-Mex party at his house.

When I arrived, we all joined in preparing the food for the evening: guacamole, pico de gallo, roasted pork, and chicken wings.

I know what all you Texans are thinking right now – THAT AIN’T TEX-MEX!

But in our defense, it’s pretty difficult to find the necessary ingredients for an authentic Tex-Mex meal over here. Cilantro is non-existent and tortillas the same.   However, after being away from home and missing Lola’s tacos for almost a month, I was ready to kill a bowl of guacamole.

The rest of our friends from Dario’s celle began to pile in and we had one hell of a time. My buddy Daniele even dressed up for the occasion. He donned a dinner-plate sized Harley Davidson belt buckle, roach-killer boots, and a Toby Keith cowboy hat. However, I could tell he had his eye on mine and was looking for a trade.

Eventually, it would come down to a poker game, but that is for another post.

Two killer pair of boots!

The finished fare included chicken wings, a variety of grilled vegetables, and pulled pork tacos - yes, Riccardo miraculously scrounged up some flour tortillas in the middle of the Italian countryside. Topped with a dollop of guacamole, those pulled pork tacos made me reminisce of home and authentic Tex-Mex food.

I will admit I had a momentary pang of  homesickness from it all.

I was amazed at the enormous amount of hospitality shown to me by my new Italian friends. They had only known me for a short time, but I found myself in their homes, eating, drinking, and laughing like one of them. For this, I am grateful and will always cherish their hospitality and friendship.

Daniele and Riccardo are already planning a trip to Texas if and when I open my own butcher shop. I promised them that if they came, I would make sure they got a true Texas topper on their head and some boots on their feet.

The King of Beef Does Porchetta

Viva la Ciccia… E chi la Stropiccia!

Dario has always sung the praises of beef. The hallowed halls of his macelleria (Italian butcher shop) are decorated with paintings and sculptures. Each in some way pays homage to the king of meats:

Beef.

On a normal day, beef is all he deals with. You won’t find chicken or fowl in the display case. You won’t find a lamb carcass hanging in the walk-in. You want a pork chop? He doesn’t sell those either.

People travel halfway around the world to feast on the Bistecca alla Fiorentina at his table. He ships these same steaks to many parts of Europe. Even though he is known for his beef, Dario is also a master when it comes to pork.

Dario uses pork in three of his dishes:

A massive ball of whipped Lardo.

• Burro de Chianti - or butter of Chianti is a seasoned pork lard. Dario spreads it lavishly on crostini and baked potatoes. I’m in love. After having tasted burro de Chianti, I’ll never ruin another baked potato with butter again.

• Tonno de Chianti - or Tuna of Chianti are pork hams that are salted, then braised in white wine and liquids. Tonno de Chianti is a component of the Accoglienza plate at McDario.

• Porchetta - a boneless pork roast where the body of the pig is de-boned, seasoned, rolled and cooked. Porchetta is another component of Dario’s Accoglienza plate.

On day three of my staging at the Celle, Samu taught me how to prepare the porchetta for Dario. We each grabbed a knife and a side of pork and got to work. Samu began by cutting just beneath the spare ribs and eventually worked his way up to and around the vertebrae – he was left with a beautiful, boneless pork loin and belly. After a few extra minutes, I finished up with my side of pork. Samu said our work, for the most part, was done so we loaded the pork sides into the refrigerated Mercedes van and made our way back up to the macelleria.

The master took over from there – with a high-output torch. Now don’t confuse this high output torch with a puny, little creme brulee torch.

This baby could burn down a house.

Once the hair was scorched from the skin,  Dario turned the sides of pork over and gave them a heavy dusting of seasonings:

• course ground sea salt,
• a variety of fresh Tuscan herbs,
• and a copious amount of crushed garlic - Dario likes his garlic!

I think we have enough Rosemary...

Behind the seasoning, he rolled up the sides of pork into what I can best describe as a cowboy’s bedroll. As he rolled, he scored.  He cut long incisions down the length of the carcasses, allowing for a tighter roll.

Then when everything was nice and tight, he hand-tied butchers string along the length to keep everything in place for cooking.

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After 4 hours in the oven at a high temperature, the two rolls of porchetta came out with a beautiful,golden-brown skin. We placed two bricks at each end of the rolls to elevate them above their drippings to keep the skin nice and crispy. That night, Dario’s diners enjoyed some of the freshest and most savory porchetta in all of Italy. I’d like to think that I was a small part of this Italian culinary tradition.

And of course, olive oil.

The Kitchen at Camont and the Art of Charcuterie

Leg 2 of my Culinary Journey is down and it was a crazy, busy week. I am still on the road, but I wanted to give everyone a short recap of the week. Don't worry, I will revisit this subject in depth when I have a bit more free time.

Renzo Girabaldi, one of my butchering idols, was quoted saying,

"If you want to learn to surf, you go to California. If you want to learn charcuterie, you go to France."

Thus, I made the journey to France for a week long advanced charcuterie class with the culinary master, Kate Hill. Kate is an expat, who has called the Southern French countryside her home for the past thirty years. In the culinary world, she has done it all - a professional cook, a published author, a teacher and a consultant. At one point, Kate even bought a French barge where she hosted magnificent dinner parties abundant with fabulous foods and the best of wines.

Kate Hill working on a pâté en croute.

For this particular charcuterie class, Kate teamed up the Chapolard family and long-time friend, Dominic Chapolard, who runs a local organic pork and charcuterie farm. To further enhance the educational value of the course, Kate enlisted the help of Dr. Michele Pfannenstiel, the guru of food safety and HACCP (Hazard Analysis and Critical Control Points).

Ok, I realize I probably lost you there.

Essentially, HACCP is a systematic preventative approach to ensure your food is contamination free of physical, chemical, or microbiological hazards. And in the charcuterie game, where you dry and cure meat anywhere from a month to a couple of years, HACCP procedures are pretty important. If you don't follow every step with extreme caution and care, you might end up with a ham full of harmful pathogens instead of a scrumptious Noix de Jambon.

The class was small and exclusive with only two fellow students, Ben and Tyllan. Ben is a good ol' mate and third generation butcher from Australia.  He recently took over his father's butcher shop, The Beef Joint. Ben signed up for the class so he could incorporate a charcuterie program into his offerings and market delicious cured meats to the people Down Under.

Tyllan is on the other side of the business, selling acorn-fed pork.  His company, Walden Hill, is feeding New England top-notch pork infused with incredibly flavorful fat that comes from hand-picked acorns. The three of us made for one hell-of-a butchering trio and I was extremely blessed to be among this group.

My charcuterie class with master butcher, Dominique Chapolard.

Our accommodations and classrooms were stuff dreams are made of. Most of the work took place on the Chapolard's farm or at Kate's residence, The Kitchen-at-Camont. In our downtime, Ben,Tyllan, and I were housed at the Château de Mazelières a French castle built in the 17th century. It boasted a Lebanese Cyprus tree, brought back by Crusaders from their travels in the Middle East. We chided Kate we would have learned charcuterie in half the allotted time if our accommodations hadn't been so nice!

Grape vines at the Château Mazelières.

Château Mazelières

To start the course out, we began with an introduction to HACCP.  Luckily, this wasn't my first go-around with the tricky food safety beast -I actually became HACCP certified last summer down in Aggieland (College Station, Texas). At times, all this information is a tad overwhelming and confusing, but if you want to make great, and more importantly SAFE charcuterie, you need to know this stuff. Luckily, Dr. Pfannenstiel is the best in the HACCP business, and by the end of the week, I had a much better grasp on food safety.

HACCP class is in session!

On the second day,  we set out to visit the Chapolard farm.  Dominic, the eldest of the four Chapolard brothers, is a former headmaster turned head butcher.  He prides himself in growing organic non-GMO grains to exclusively feed his entire pork operation.

Pigs at the Chapolard farm.

Dominic gave us a short tour of their charcuterie production facility and when the truck with the freshly slaughtered pork carcasses arrived, Dominic showed us how he broke down the pork side best suited for his charcuterie needs.  He ended the day by teaching us how to make blood sausage.

Charcuterie aging in the attic of the Chapolard home.

Saucisson curing in the Chapolard facilites.

Over the next few days, each piece of our Chapolard pig was slowly transformed into some form of traditional French charcuterie:

• Saucisson (sausage)
• Saucisse séche (dry sausage)
• Noix de Jambon (small, boneless cold-smoked hams)
• Ventrèche (rolled pork belly)
• and Coppa (neck muscle from the Boston Butt)

Dominique showing us caul fat.

A Fricandeaux - a ball of pate meat wrapped in caul fat.

After the larger pieces had been made and laid to cure, we took the remaining odds and ends and turn them into pâté and rillettes.

I made one amazing Texas pâté, if I might say so myself!

It took me a little bit longer to complete my pate, but I'm sure you can see why.

Final product turned out pretty decent - I recognize that shape!

We even went as far as to render down pork lard. That's what I like about charcuterie - it puts the entire animal to use.

Later in the week, we visited the Laverdac Market where the Chapolard family sells all their production. Their pork and by-products are highly regarded and sought after in the area so they sold out quickly.

Fresh Mushrooms at the market.

Some sort of delicious egg and ham mixture set in jelly that we procured at the Laverdac Market.

My week with Kate Hill and her French Charcuterie class was an incredible week that I wish didn't have to end. I made some incredible new friends, learned to make incredible cured meats, and packed an incredible amount of HACCP knowledge into my brain! We ended the week with a typical champagne toast and requisite group pictures.

Dining al fresco

Getting my pictures in

So with my second goal accomplished and to officially close this chapter of my culinary adventure, I got Kate to autograph my topper.

God is good.

Next stop, Panzano Italy!

Kolaches versus Klobasniky

I have a beef with “kolaches.” I feel confident to speak on the subject given my pedigree, so let me start by vetting myself:

1. My last name is the Czech surname, Matusek. It is pronounced, "Muh-TU-sek”. Although it has been bastardized in the American vernacular, people from the old country and my kinfolks in Sweet Home, Texas still pronounce it “Mah-ta-SCHEK”.
2. I am half Czech. My dad is full-blooded and was the first in the clan not to marry a second cousin or a neighboring Czech farm girl.
3. My grandmother’s generation grew up speaking Czech as their first language in the home. She made sure some of the old language passed on to her grandkids. Sadly, I have forgotten just about all of it except the curse words.
4. I went to high school in Shiner, Texas. Founded by Czech immigrants, this mostly-Czech community is known for its Spoetzl Brewery which cranks out the famous Shiner Bock.
5. My high school fight song was the Shiner Polka. Sung in Czech, it reminisces about sunny Shiner, Texas and empty kegs of beer. Yes, our fight song was about pounding brewskies.

Now that I have validated my lineage, let’s get back to my beef.

If you find a good bakery or donut shop in South Texas, chances are you will find some Czech sweet treats known as “kolaches.” A true kolac is a circular, pillow-like, puff pastry with a small dimple in the middle, occupied by a fruit compote or sweet cheese filling.

Now, next to those oh-so-delicious kolaches in this Texas bakery, you might find some sausage rolls (aka pig-in-the-blankets). These treats are “klobasniky”. They come from a similar yeast-based dough as a kolac(singular form of kolaches) yet have sausage inside.

THESE ARE NOT KOLACHES.

I don’t care what the gal working the donut counter labels them. She’s wrong and you should tell her. Or better yet, refer her to this post. Just remember, if the pastry has meat, it is a klobasnek. If it has fruit or a sweet cheese filling, it is a kolac.

Would you call a scone a biscuit?

Or a crepe a pancake?

No, you wouldn’t. Now it is high time for everyone to culture-up and learn about Czech pastries.

Kolache

Kolaches

Klobasnek

klobasniky

If you are looking for the best place to find authentic Czech kolaches and klobasniky, find a place that can answer the question,

"Jak se mas? (how are you doing in Czech.)

Chances are, they will respond,

“Dobre",

meaning "good" and I’d assume the food would be too.

My recommendation: My Aunt Mag makes the best kolaches and klobasniky, but if you are not in Sweet Home then run on over to Kountry Bakery in Hallettsville, Texas. Even though their menu states, “sausage kolaches,” I’m hoping they just conformed for outsiders.

Finally, a huge shout out to my great-aunt Mag who took the time to pass down the famous, Janak family kolache recipe.  Be sure to see my next post where she patiently teaches me step by step.

...and a second shout out to my Aunt Cynthia for digging up old photos of my grandparents, Marvin and Genevieve Matusek. Nana Gene seemingly always had a fresh batch of kolaches and she supervised some of my first experiments in the kitchen. I am so thankful for the memories I have with both of them.

Spi sladce (sleep sweetly)

Nana Gene & Pa Marvin

That's me, digging in Nana Gene's kitchen cabinets