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.

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 

Creating the Manifesto

This is the last of a 3-part series.  You can catch up by reading Road Trippin' Across Europe (Prolog), Origins - part 1, and Meating Fellow Revolutionaries, part 2. 

We were up early the next morning and ready to begin the formulation of the Manifesto. Michael had outlined five key points he wanted to touch on in our mission statement:

• Tradition
• Quality
• Education
• Craft
• People

For each of these subjects, Michael had assigned a speaker who would lead the discussion for 15-20 minutes after which we would begin a group discussion. All the speakers were experts in their respected fields.

TRADITIONS:

The “traditions” segment was lead Henning Wiesinger, owner of Steensgaard Farms, a Danish nose-to-tail farm, slaughter facility, and butcher shop.

They do it all under one roof, from “seed to sausage”.

He discussed how the connection between the farmer and butcher has become lost, but fortunately, Steensgaard has been instrumental in preserving this traditional method of butchery.  The unique aspect of Steensgaard is their method and ideology of harvesting. Their animals aren't transported to a distant slaughterhouse - they are harvested right on the farm using a state of the art harvest facility.  It is the farmers who know the animals and lead them to the slaughterhouse where they go in a special enclosure until they are slaughtered. This ensures the lowest possible stress levels to the animals. Once slaughtered, the carcasses are immediately hung up and broken down while still warm, ensuring a quality product.  It also provides close cooperation between the farmer and butcher by creating opportunities for them to work together on meat quality and product development.

After Henning finished, we came together as a whole and tried to outline a statement on traditions.

We honor the valuable traditions of butchery.

It might seem very simple, but you have no idea how much discussion and thought went into that sentence.

QUALITY:

Adam Danforth, a James Beard award-winning author and butcher from Oregon then spoke on the topic of quality. Adam is an advocate for consuming older animals – these animals have more time to develop complex flavor in their meat. He also emphasizes flavor over texture, while the rest of the world buys the exact opposite. This discussion then led into another concerning the long-term sustainability of meat. The earth cannot support 7 billion people who eat meat every day. Adam's solution: eat less, but better meat.

Again, we converged for group discussion. The main point in this session was ensuring that superior quality was maintained through the whole process, from seed to sausage.

We insist on transparent and honest meat.

 EDUCATION:

Michael lacked a speaker for his point on education. Moved by my non-traditional path to butchery, he asked me if I would be willing to speak on the subject the night before.

Me?

I was the youngest butcher there and had little experience compared to the old guys who were born with blood stained knives in their hands.

But I wasn’t going to turn an opportunity like this down.

After a quick lunch break consisting of some incredible beef cheek tacos, it was my turn.

I’ve done a lot of public speaking in my life. I even spent a lot of time acting as a kid and I’ve got two state titles to prove it. But, this was different. This was my career.

I’m not going to lie, I was nervous.

After a quick prayer, I took my place at the head of the room and began to tell my story: The revelation in my Entrepreneurship class at TCU, the slaughterhouse down in South Texas, selling my car to pay for a three-month apprenticeship at Fleishers in NYC, as well as my time in France and Italy.

The discussion that followed centered around setting up a cost-free international apprenticeship program among the butchers involved in the manifesto, with me as the example and guinea pig.

We promote the exchange of knowledge and expertise.

CRAFT:

Dominique Chapolard and Kate Hill handled “Craft.” While Kate talked about the Chapolard system and butchery in France, Dominique went to work on a half carcass, demonstrating his skills. Many butchers hadn’t seen a carcass broken-down with this method before.

We represent a craft that is the joyful expression of tradition and innovation.

PEOPLE:

Olga Graf and Akina Kai, two design thinkers from Berlin, were charged with helping these butchers think “outside the box.” They led a discussion revolving around the interactions between butchers and consumers.

We lead the conversation about responsible consumption of meat.

After Kate and Adam had tweaked the wording a bit, the Manifesto was ready to sign.

One by one, we were called to sign the document. A roar of applause filled the hall as Michael, the last to sign, finished his signature.

This was the first step in the organized meat revolution. As a craft, we have grown tired of the unethical practices and inferior products from large industrial meat companies. We have set in place guidelines by which we can organize behind.

Yes, it probably didn’t seem like much to you as a reader; however there was a lot of thought and conversation behind those five lines.

I’m sure they will be modified and changed at the next summit, but until then, it’s a start.

After a long day of discussion, carts of beer were rolled in. Everyone started breaking out his or her products for sampling.

Road Trippin' Across Europe

During my apprenticeship in France, Kate began talking about an upcoming international meat summit. Michael Museth of Folkets Madhus was the organizer and had scheduled an event for late August, in Copenhagen. Kate and Dom were to speak and several international butchers would be in attendance.  So like a pup begging for treats, I hounded Kate until she asked the organizer if I could tag along.

Luckily for me, he agreed.

About a week before the trip, Kate and I were discussing our plans. She was to fly into Copenhagen.  I had planned to ride the train and catch up with her there, but somewhere along the way we started talking about a road trip. Two days later, coincidentally on my birthday, I received an email from Kate titled “Happy Birthday” with our road trip route included.

The best birthday present!

DAY 1: The morning of our departure, I arrived at Camont as the sun was coming up.  I had rented a VW Polo for the trip and had it packed with my travel bag and knives.  Kate tossed hers in with mine and I was delighted when she added a hamper full of French charcuterie. Then off we went, road-trippin' to a meat summit in Copenhagen.

The sun had just climbed above the treetops as we hooped into the car.

Kate and I talked for hours, only stopping for diesel and the occasional pastry or sandwich. We discussed at great length my future plans for a craft butcher shop in the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex. She gave me invaluable advice gleaned from her years in the culinary world and her travels around the globe. As the day drug on, she recounted tales from some of these travels – The time she drove an old army flatbed truck across Africa or guided lavish tours through the greatest wine regions and restaurants of France.

She really has done it all.

In the late afternoon, we crossed the border into Germany – near Stuttgart. Kate and I both pondered on the whereabouts of the Autobahn: the famed German motorway of unrestricted speed limits. Never the less, the highway we were on was amply populated with BMWs, Mercedes-Benz, and Porsches proving that Stuttgart was indeed the automobile cradle of the world. Just as the sun set, we hit Frankfurt where we planned to stay the night with one of Kate’s former students.

DAY 2 & TONY: Tony welcomed us into his home where German beer and meat are not in short supply. Kate beckoned for the Noix de Jambon, so I cut into one to allow Tony to sample our wares. In return, he produced an Iberian Coppa he had preserved.

Wow, people say that fat melts in your mouth, well this fat really did!

It was some of the best tasting charcuterie I’d ever had the opportunity to try.

Iberico Coppa

As it turned out, Tony was quite the weekend charcuterie warrior – his kitchen was stocked with various cured meats, fermented vegetables, and a plethora of top-notch kitchen gear. He even had a Jambon Bayonne (dried pork ham) in one of his cabinets.

Loaf style bologna

Cold cuts for breakfast - its a German thing.

The next morning, after a breakfast of cold cuts provided by our host, we got back on the Autobahn.

Yeah, Tony laughed when we asked where it was. He informed us that we had been driving on the Autobahn the entire day before.

Around midday, we pulled into a small German village nestled next to some heavily wooded hills and promptly located the local butcher shop. After chatting with the monger and inquiring about a number of  his offerings, we made our purchases, including freshly baked bread.

The butcher shop of a small German town.

The perfect spot for a picnic.

Towers in Lubeck

Finding the perfect picnic spot was not hard.  Everything looked like the Von Trapps might skip into at any moment. That night we pulled into Lubeck and had one last good sleep in a hotel before the meat summit. 

DAY 3: The smell of the sea filled our nostrils the next morning as we boarded the ferry for Denmark and crossed the Femer Baelt.

Leaving the German mainland and headed for Denmark!

Finally, a couple of hours later, the VW Polo pulled into a parking lot marked Folkets Madhus . 

After 1,256 miles and 25 hours in the car, we had arrived!

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Je N'ai Plus Faim

Life really does revolve around food in Gascony. Every day from noon to two, the small town of Nerac shuts down and like every other French village, goes really hard at lunchtime – five courses hard. The courses consist of:

• aperitifs and hors d’oeuvres,
• an entrée,
• a salad,
• cheese,
• and a dessert, plus wine and coffee.

Tomatoes and Coppa.

Dominique and his wife Christiane are no different. We'd usually wrap up our morning work and start cleaning the processing facility around 11:45. Once it was all scrubbed, I’d pile into Dominique’s car and we would take a short drive down the road to his house where Christiane awaited us.

Let me point something out here – Christiane worked with us in the morning, cutting carcasses, cooking pates, and making sausages. She would sneak out maybe 15 minutes ahead of us and by the time we reached the kitchen table, she always had an incredible French lunch prepared. As Dominique helped her with the final touches, I always set the table - in the French manner, of course.

Tomatoes, a staple of the French diet.

And then we would feast!

Duck breast cooked by Dominique for lunch one day.

I’ve never eaten like I have in France. Every meal, I absolutely gorged myself into a food-induced coma. Christiane was like a French mother – she kept scooping food onto my plate. I finally had to learn how to say,

'I am not hungry anymore' in French – Je n’ai plus faim.

Goat cheese from the farmer just down the road.

Luckily, there was always a pot of coffee at the end of every meal to get me back on my feet and back to the facility.

My favorite part of the Chapolard lunches was the company. All throughout the meal and an hour afterward, Dominique, Christiane, and I would talk.  We had some amazing exchanges. Their English was much better than my French, so throughout our conversations, I constantly used Google Translate and while Dominique kept his French to English dictionary close at hand. They taught me about French culture and life as well as valuable lessons and tips for my future butcher shop.

In return, I tried my best to describe the Texan way of life, my family, and our ranch. The concept of a "ranch" was very difficult for Dominique to comprehend.  We settled on the concept of a "large farm" just for cattle. He will get to see it first hand this January when he comes to visit.  I hope he brings Christiane in his suitcase!

I know Dominique and Christiane enjoyed these lunch conversations too. One of the most memorable quotes for me came from Dominique after a long discussion. He had some difficulty translating it at first, so he relayed it to Christiane and she began,

“Fifty percent of what Dominique sells is meat…”

“No, No.” Dominique interrupted.

“Twenty percent of what I sell is meat. Eighty percent is relationships.”

I'm not sure how he settled on that ratio, but he is absolutely right. Relationships are important. I will forever remember these meaningful conversations and these incredible people.

Thank you, Dom & Christiane.