Make the Bread, Buy the Butter - Jennifer Reese [80]
3. Place the contraption on a tray on the counter (occasionally, the jar will overflow). Let it ferment for 5 days.
4. Dismantle the contraption, cap the jar, and store in the refrigerator.
Makes 4 pickles
APPLE-SAGE BREAKFAST SAUSAGE
While bacon is very in, sausage is still kind of out. Maybe it’s just the way it looks—like stubby fingers on a fat little man—or the fact that “how sausage gets made” is code for “disgusting.” With reason. I hate grinding meat and stuffing sausage, but this particular sausage can be ground in the food processor and served in patty form.
Make it or buy it? Make it.
Hassle: Moderate
Cost comparison: Homemade: $3.20 per pound depending on the price of pork. Jimmy Dean: $6.10 per pound.
3½ pounds untrimmed boneless pork shoulder, cut into ¾-inch chunks
2 tablespoons kosher salt
4 tablespoons fresh sage, finely chopped
1 tablespoon minced garlic
¼ cup light brown sugar, packed
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 large apple, peeled, cored, and chopped
1. Mix all the ingredients until the seasonings are evenly distributed. Chill.
2. Grind the mixture in a meat grinder, or pulse very small handfuls in a food processor.
3. Mix well, with either a wooden spoon or the paddle attachment of a mixer.
4. In a small skillet, fry a small portion of the sausage and taste for seasoning. Adjust.
5. Form the sausage into patties and fry immediately, or roll into a log and slice as needed. Store in the refrigerator for up to 3 days. Freeze for longer storage. It’s a good idea to divide the sausage into small packets, so you can take one at a time out of the freezer. This recipe makes a lot of sausage.
Makes 3½ pounds
HOT DOGS
I was pretty sure homemade hot dogs were a bad idea. But I had also once thought this about hot dog buns, bagels, Worcestershire sauce, and bacon and I had been mistaken. So I decided to give the hot dog recipe in Charcuterie a try. The results:
Day 1. I buy the meat. Ruhlman calls for boneless short ribs in his hot dogs. I think that this is a very choice cut for a sausage ordinarily made with “parts,” and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I chill the meat. (Chilled meat: the prerequisite to any non-disastrous sausage-making venture.)
Day 2. I assemble the grinder and feed the meat into the machine. It always sounds very easy when people describe grinding meat. It ordinarily occupies a sentence in a recipe. In my kitchen, grinding meat always occupies at least an hour. Every minute or so I disassemble the grinder with fat-slicked hands and remove, with the point of a steak knife, the web of membrane that blocks the holes in the die. By the time I am done, the meat is no longer chilled, but slimy and warm. I mix in the salt and pink salt (see Appendix) and put the meat in the refrigerator for a resting period that Ruhlman writes will “develop the myosin protein that helps give the hot dog a good bind and a good bite.” I lie down on the sofa for my own resting period.
Day 3. I retrieve the meat paste from the refrigerator and stir in dry mustard, paprika, ground coriander, pepper, garlic, and two spoonfuls of corn syrup. From the bowl now wafts the unmistakable perfume of hot dog. This is exciting! I know that fennel seed makes Italian sausage taste like Italian sausage and sage makes breakfast sausage taste like breakfast sausage, but I have never paused to wonder what makes a hot dog taste like a hot dog. Perhaps because I was afraid of what the answer might be. But now I know. You could rub this simple spice mixture on a piece of flounder or chicken and people would be very confused—Why, this chicken tastes like hot dog! You could spread it on buttered toast, you could toss it with pasta.
I spread the wiener sludge on a cookie sheet and