The Hand House

Homeward bound was always one of my favorite movies as a kid – the story follows a lost golden retriever, an American bulldog, and a Himalayan cat as they try to find their way back home to their owners.

Doesn't everyone love a good homecoming story?

I sure do.

Turns out, I've got something similar going on in my life right now.

Last January, Mom came to me with the idea of starting a Bed & Breakfast on the ranch in Yoakum. It'd been close to fifteen years since we had lived on the ranch full-time. For her, it would provide a place for her Double D Ranch customers to lodge when they made the long trek to the home office and outlet better known as "The Mothership." For me, it provided an opportunity to get back into the meat game - I figured these folks would be venturing down to the "Leather Capital of the World" to buy some fancy western threads – indeed, they'd like to eat well too!

Growing up, our ranch foreman resided in a dilapidated hand house that sat next to the cattle pens and barn. Eventually, the house was torn down to favor a new build for a "live-in" nanny. As soon as Sam and I managed to run her off, Mom lost interest and never completed the project. For 15 years, this shell of a house has sat unfinished and in decline. It hosted a family of goats underneath its porch, which only compounded the condition.

Over the last year, we've "put some paint on the old barn" and whipped it into shape. Mom did her Double D Ranch thing to it, and I made sure to get in some culinary musts and a space for my Millscale … "The Hand House," as we still call it, has been transformed from an old forgotten dwelling place into a "Double D'ed" bed and breakfast, complete with cozy accommodations and experiential dining in the heart of Texas.

Like the lost troupe of pets in homeward bound, I've found my way back home. After years away from the ranch, I'm back where I spent my childhood – only this time, I want to share it with all of you. I am currently offering beef butchery classes, group sausage-making weekends, and culinary getaways. So when you are ready to kick your boots off for a little R&R in the countryside, stop by for quiet scenic views, comfy digs, and some delicious steaks. We can't wait to serve you!

We are currently taking reservations at the Hand House for the late Summer/Early Fall of 2022. Send me an email: jack@rawrepublicmeats.com

Texas, Arizona, and Peru

Just before Easter, Mom went down with a bad gallbladder. Usually, it is a smooth operation, but hers turned out to be a bit more complicated. Anyway, like a good son, I went home to help get her back on her feet. I think she really had been missing me and wanted me home for Easter.  

Actually, maybe it was me who was missing home.

It was a great Easter - I had missed the last couple due to my travels in Europe and now have come to cherish family holidays. Uncle Mickey and I picked out a new smoker and christened it with a nice brisket for Easter lunch.

Look at that smoke ring on our Easter brisket!

When I'm home, I'm under constant attack - everybody wants me to make bread! To fend off the hungry hordes, I made a few batches of bread. I was quite proud of this fella - turned out to be a beaut.

After lunch, Mom announced that she had a photoshoot coming up.  Those that know, know my mom and her sisters have an apparel company based in Texas. Anyway, Mom disguised the shoot as a "vacation" and convinced Sam and I plus all of our cousins to come along. I knew she would need a hand with her just out of the hospital, plus the promise of all of us loading up in an RV and driving to Arizona was just too good to pass up. 

Arizona is home to many varieties of cactus.

Cousin Mitchell and I were sent off to take some still shots of jewelry - Cousin Taylor got this picture where it looks like we were up to no good! I promise these is a necklace draped on that rock!

I rose early one morning and meandered out to the horse stables before we started the photoshoot for the day. The horses had just spotted the feed truck and by the looks of it, I'm guessing they were hungry!

For me, the photoshoot consisted of moving sets and props, running for more props, and making sure the sun didn't interfere with the shot.

Arizona provided some amazing scenes for the 'shoot. We ventured up Mt. Lemmon the first day and shot her Winter collection up in the pines.  The second day we shot out in the desert around White Stallion Ranch and wrapped up the shoot in Old Tuscon, an old movie set which has continued to grow since its debut in the movie Arizona (1940). Since then, countless western classics have used the set for production purposes including Gunfight at the O.K Corral (1957), Rio Bravo (1959), and Little House on the Prarie (1970's-1980's). After the shoot was in the can, I hot-shotted back to Texas and within 24 hours was back in Peru.

My vacation wasn't quite finished, however - As I worked for Renzo, I found out his father was also in the fashion world. Once Mom and he connected, it was only a week later that she and Sam came to Lima for a textile trade show.  

My brother missed out on our first trip to Peru, some ten years ago. Mom and I hit all the sites, like Manchu Picchu and the Sacred Valley, before heading to Iquitos where we took part in a mission trip along the Amazon river. Once the family was in, our first destination was Cusco.

Mom didn't feel like making the trek to Machu Picchu again, so the Sam & I set out for the ancient Incan ruins on the first day. Honestly, I didn't remember how much traveling you have to do to reach Machu Picchu - it's a long day!

Sam and I, sporting our new ponchos, at Macchu Picchu.

The Sacred Valley, once the royal estate of the Incan Emperor.

Back in Cusco, Mom went to her "poncho guy" who she has stayed in touch with  with all these years. His shop is still there, and I'm sure he was happy to see us!

Just down the street from our hotel in Cusco, there was a chocolate musuem. After taking a short tour and learning more about the process, we had a little chocolate tasting!

Sam and I overlooking the valley of Cusco.

We returned to Lima just in time for Mom to swing by PeruModa, the textile show I referenced. As Mom walked through the show, looking for manufacturers, I got a decent Spanish lesson in textiles - My Spanish usually revolves around a kitchen, I was able to help with a little translation.

What kind of host would I be if we didn't eat some delicious food when the family was in Lima?

Our first night we were in town, we dined at DonDoh, a collaborative restaurant between chef Ciro Watanabe of the Oshaka restaurant group and Renzo Girabaldi. This Japanese roboto grill provides a high-class oriental cuisine with a touch of Peru - a unique experience!

Next up was Osso, the restaurant that I knew quite well! We journeyed out to the suburbs of Lima for a massive feast consisting of tartar, ribeyes, and pork chops. I even got them to try the marinated beef hearts - I don't think either of them became beef heart fans. Personally, I think it is one of the most flavorful cuts there is.

Our grand finale was Central. Featured on Netflix's Chef’s Table series, Central is unique - Head Chef Virgilio Martinez has climbed to the top of the restaurant world by plating complete ecosystems found in Peru. Each dish corresponds to a different altitude at which everything is sourced.

Mom, Sam, and I after the meal of our lives at Central.

I'd love to tell more about it, but I think Central needs its own post. Shortly after the meal, Mom and Sam headed for the airport. VACATION COMPLETE

Photographical evidence that Mom made the trip. I had a blast with these two in Peru!

Bucket List

There is no other way of putting it – This past week, I had a bucket list day. This is how it went:

After a week and a half in Osso's production facility, I was moved on Tuesday to the kitchen to work with the saucier, William.  I noticed a lot of people call him Gordito, which I didn't like. I asked if he would mind if I called him "Willie." Willie is Renzo's guy charged with making sauces, seasonings, and chicharrones. Together, we started cooking up massive pots of BBQ sauce, antichucero sauce, and ají asado.

The beginnings of Osso's BBQ Salsa. 

Animal Sauce - what your hamburger has been missing!

 As thrilled as I was about leaving production to learn something new from Willie, I was even more thrilled to learn Renzo was waiting for me in front of the shop around mid-morning -  we were going to the downtown San Isidro location!
 
It’s a decent trip to San Isidro, mostly due to traffic. Lima has some ridiculous traffic and some of the most aggressive drivers I’ve ever seen, but that day it didn’t matter. I had a solid two and a half hours, one-on-one with one of my idols.  I had Renzo Girabaldi trapped in a car, and we talked about all the important stuff in life... like golf and meat.

I'll be honest - I didn't get any photos of us in the car. I was too busy asking questions! Here is one of the older pieces in the dry-aging room from the San Isidro location.

Renzo was just back from an exhaustive trip to Russia and used the previous weekend to catch up on a little R&R out on the links.  He was in need of some serious golf therapy. As Renzo described one of his rounds, I found myself missing the game. I haven’t picked up a club in the last three years - not since I started this crazy butcher adventure. About that time, Renzo said, “The club president cleared you to play – WE are playing with him next week.” 

Pinch me - are you kidding me?  I'm in a car with Renzo Girabaldi, and I'm going to play golf with him next week!  How do you say, "Bucket List!" 

I didn’t waste the opportunity - I had Renzo one-on-one, and I had a thousand meat questions I wanted to ask. For a guy who eventually wants to open his own shop, this time with Renzo was priceless. 

I gave him the general premise of my future endeavor, and he helped me focus and peel back the onion. The location has always been a big question mark for me. It is still a question, but after Tuesday, perhaps I have honed it down. 

We talked Dan Barber, Dario Cecchini, David Chang. We talked costing, machinery, and utilities. You know, the boring stuff you don't want to read or hear about, but I ate up every single word. 

Remember, when I started this carnivorous journey, I said that I wanted to work for Dario Cecchini, Renzo Girabaldi, and Francis Mallman. I've been working towards this for almost three years - a lot of hard, manual, and often free labor. And every ounce of sweat and blood that I've shed is worth it because of days like this past Tuesday.

Renzo Girabaldi, check.
 

Lamb chops and figs - a little special treat cooked up for Renzo and I.

The main grilling station at Osso San Isidro - in crunch time, that have plenty of space to crank out some serious meat.

Lamb saddle chops that I was charged with cooking. Renzo calls them "Batman" chops - I think that is the better name!

OSSO

I arrived mid-morning on Monday to Osso Carnicería, strapped down with my backpacks and sweating profusely. I had gone from the extreme cold of Denmark to extreme humidity of Peru, and I was starting to question if I’d packed correctly. 

As I entered the shop, Renzo Girabaldi stood next to the counter chatting with some patrons. God, I was nervous. I mean, this was the guy I had wanted to work with for over three years. He and Dario Cecchini were my idols and the key reasons I became a butcher. And here he was, standing before me and offering the opportunity to apprentice with him for a few months.

A peak into one of the dry aging containers in the carnicería.

I didn't need to be anxious - Renzo was very welcoming. After he finished his conversation, we ventured upstairs to the roof where his office was located. After conversing a bit, Renzo laid out his suggested two-month plan. 
- an intro week on the cutting table in the butcher shop
- two weeks in production, making hamburgers, chorizos, and other value-added products.
- a week ghosting Osso’s CFO Alejandro, analyzing logistics.
- two weeks of working at the adjoining Osso Restuarante
- two weeks working at Dondoh, a new restaurant collaboration of Renzo's.

When it came to accommodations, nothing had been planned prior to my arrival. Renzo and Alejandro went to work on a place for me to crash. In the meantime, I’d have to sleep at the butcher shop - not the first time that had happened. 

Renzo had to jet - literally.  He had less than 48 hours in Lima before he departed for a culinary gig in Moscow for 11 days. I’m thinking I’m at the right spot.

I went to the front counter, knife bundle in hand. The rest of the afternoon, I’m jumped in where I could help, mostly removing fat from pig skin. Renzo is a nose to tail man as well - he believes in saving every single little bit of fat. The hard fat is sent into hamburger production. The soft fat, the one that is usually thrown away or declared “too much work to remove” by some, is converted into Manteca de Cerdo, or Pork Lard. Renzo uses it all.

When dealing with dry aged meat, you have to trim off the outside surfaces - mostly dried meat and mold - in order to see the beauty hiding within.

My first week was spent in the shop, working around the large wooden cutting table. I was under the direction of César and Jose, Renzo's two main butchers. Every morning we started by setting the case - I took note of all the cuts, trying frantically to remember all the names in Spanish. My usual tasks were cleaning tenderloins, skirt steaks, and chorizo displays. Once the shop case was merchandised, we begin breaking down carcasses to fulfill the restaurants’ needs as well as wholesale orders. 

José reminds me of some of those super quick butchers you see on YouTube: he can cut a mile a minute because he has done it a million times. He has been kind enough to share some his cutting "secretos" with me. José has taken a liking to my set of F. Dick knives. My large flat honing steel is now the preferred one at the table, and my boning knife stays busy, even when I'm on lunch break. 

One of my morning tasks at Osso has been to restocking the sausage treys. Every shop displays their meat a little differently so I've tried to learn quickly - I still am having difficulties deciphering between the eight different sausages.

The guys at the cutting table realized I knew my cuts and that I knew a decent amount of Spanish. They wanted to learn English. By the end of my third day, my nickname had become “teacher.”

Or Jack "Sparrot." Not Sparrow.

Massive ribeyes headed to the restaurant.

I've enjoyed breaking out my Spanish again, but damn, I didn't remember it being this difficult! It doesn't help that my brain has a little Danish, French, or Italian rolling around in there.

I am fascinated by the setup at Osso, especially all the dry aging facilities. Cèsar demoed the famous sake-infused dry-aged ribeye on the DonDoh menu. After cleaning up the strip loin, he wrapped the entire hunk of meat in dried kelp leaves, then tied it up using medical netting. Cèsar carefully saturated the netting with just the right amount of sake before storing it in the dry-aging cooler.

César working the medical netting over the kelp-covered strip loin.

 
My second week was supposed to have been in production, making massive amounts hamburgers and chorizos. José and César pulled me up to the shop every morning - maybe they enjoyed my insanely sharp knives, or I was actually helping out.

I hope it was both!

Osso, just like the many European butchers I've met, deals with a bunch of quality pork meat. To supply super markets with artisanal chorizos, you need to have a lot of it!

This company has an incredible brand and top notch packaging!

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Sidenotes:
Save the Gringo 1:
After a trio of nights in the butcher shop, Renzo and Alejandro fixed me up with my own pad - a small single room in La Molina, roughly a thirty-minute walk from the shop. I walked for the first week, but the humidity and the insanely cheap cab fare finally won me over. I'm very appreciative of the room. They didn't have to help out some gringo stranger from Texas, but they did.

Save Gringo 2:
It was about this same time I noticed an alarming number of bug bites on my arms and legs. For weeks, I had heard about "chinchas" or bed bugs down in South America - that was my first thought! I mentioned it to Renzo, and 15 minutes later,  a company employee whisked me away to a public health clinic down the street to get treated (turns out it was an allergic reaction to a mosquito bite). Again, Gringo in trouble and Renzo saves the day - incredibly generous.
 

The Carnicería crew getting together for a group picture after my first week in La Molina.

I don't know what it is about staff meals, but I love them. Perhaps its the regathering of the troops to break bread together - the bond of a shared meal. At the Reata, I loved the tacos that the guys served up after the doors closed for the night. Fleishers staff meals in Red Hook were always spectacular thanks to Jason V. Here, a pan-fried potato stuffed with boiled eggs and minced chorizo meat. As with every staff meal here, there is rice and some sort of flavorful and fresh juice.

Pass the Cheese, Please.

Caciodecavallo from David Asher's work shop. The story of this cheese begins in the Apennine mountains where cheesemakers took their herds to the green pastures way up in the mountains. The green grass produced amazing milk but the cheesemakers couldn't carry milk all the way down the mountain - they made cheese instead! Caciodecavallo was tradtionally preserved this way so cheesemakers could throw it over a horse's back to get it down the mountain.

My first cheese revelation took place in Gascony.  It was the chèrve, goat cheese, made by Marie, Dominique’s neighbor. 

Hey now, I’ve had good cheese in America. My favorite spot is Antonelli’s cheese shop in Austin.  What I’d give to stand in there for hours sampling cheeses! 

My latest cheese experience has me hooked. Don’t worry; I’m not setting down the knife for cheese cloth. But still, I’m hooked.

On a two day leave from the Folkets Madhus kitchen in November, I attended a natural cheese making class in Copenhagen lead by David Asher. Originally from Canada, David started out with a goat farm where he made incredible raw milk cheeses. Unfortunately, raw milk cheese can't be sold in Canada - his running joke was that he was invited to every party and he had the best Christmas presents. He ended up writing his manifesto for cheese making, made the tough decision to sell his farm, and hit the road to spread the word about natural cheese.

The class I joined was filled with local dairy farmers, all trying to find another way to preserve and sell their precious milk. Asher's cheese isn't the "natural" cheese that you find in the grocery store. He doesn't use freeze dried fungal spores or mesophilic starter cultures - the BS that is in just about every grocery store cheese. He uses natural cultures, clabber, and kefir, along with good, fresh milk from pasture-raised animals - the same ingredients that cheese has been made with for thousands of years. 

Valençay cheese that was coated with ash just after formation. A few months of fungal growth makes a really cool contrast!

* Clabber is raw milk that is left to ferment at room temperature for a day. Ask your grandmother - I bet she knows about clabber. Kefir, a cauliflower looking seed, is another natural fermentation agent. Kefir seed is added to milk and left to ferment at room temperature. These cultures are then added to milk during the cheesemaking process.

Over the two day session, David walked the class through butter production, mozzarella stretching, and the crafting of a wheel of alpine cheese. Surprisingly, there are many parallels between charcuterie and cheese - salt is used in the same fashion (and in the same measurements) to draw moisture out and preserve the cheese.

San Marcellin, another goat cheese, showing incredible signs of fungal activity.

The class was quite the awakening - I also learned that Cheddar cheese should be white, not the distinct bright orange color. Let me explain further: Grass contains carotene. When cows eat grass, their milk has a rich, creamy color. When you make cheddar cheese from a cow raised on grain, the eventual cheese lacks carotene and thus will turn out rather dull and unappealing. Around the time of the advent of industrial farming, cheese makers began adding ground annatto seeds to disguise their inferior cheddars. Add a little annatto powder, and you get that creamy white cheddar color back - add a little too much, and the cheddar turns a bright orange color. Sadly, this trend caught on, and the orange coloring has become part of cheddar's identity.

Do you know why Europe has incredible cheese and the stuff you find in America is just... blah? In Europe, the best milk is designated for cheesemaking; the inferior milk is sent to bottling plant. In America, our good milk winds up in the milk carton, and our inferior milk is made into cheese.

This class certainly sparked my interest. I have produced a few batches of cheese since then with fluctuating results. I'm very excited to see how my latest batch turns out - the ricotta was amazing, and the mozzarella didn't last long, but I have four wheels of cheddar and a jar of feta still in the fridge. If you have any interest in cheesemaking, I highly recommend his book The Art of Natural Cheesemaking