Jerky Game Strong

Most people work five days a week just to get to the two-day reprieve called the weekend. On those two anticipated days, you couldn’t drag the average person back to the office - especially in New York. New Yorkers would rather be shopping, or hanging at a new “slice shop” (Brooklyn slang for pizza shop), or even tripping roller bladers in Central Park. Not this guy. Fleishers holds butchery and cooking introductory classes at their locations a few Saturdays a week.  As an apprentice, I’m allowed to go, free of charge. So anytime there is a class in Red Hook and it doesn’t interfere with the TCU Football game (Go Frogs), I’m there.

A couple of Saturdays back happened to be the Beef Jerky 101 class taught by Fleishers’ own Jerky Master, Chris W. Before joining Fleishers, Chris had his own craft jerky business. His jerky was so good that Fleisher’s decided,

If you can’t beat him, hire him!

So they did.

The Jerky Master

I arrived an hour early before class to check on the two massive 100% grass-fed briskets that we had been smoking for the past 18 hours. One would be served at the end of the class along with my new favorite craft beer, Six Point Sweet Action.

Six Point Sweet Action

After an intro into Fleisher’s and a short company history by Sophie, Chris began to educate us on jerky basics:

• the meat to use
• the marinades
• and the various ways to dehydrate it

Meanwhile, Sophie passed around semi-frozen blocks of eye round for students to began slicing into paper-thin strips. (Tip: Semi-frozen meat is much easier to handle because thawed meat flops around too much and is difficult to cut consistently into thin strips for jerky.) Once everyone had his or her jerky meat sliced, Chris explained how to properly marinate the meat and the differences of wet and dry marinades.

The spices

Seasonings at the ready

My jerky, ready for the dehydrator

Next, we were encouraged to concoct our own marinade mixture and then zip-zam, with the help of the cryo-vaccum machine, we sealed our marinated meat in a bag to take home for dehydrating.

Fleishers classes are chock full of information and you always come home with some sweet gear.   For this class, Sophie handed out goodie bags with a Fleishers Craft Jerky kit. These kits are great for DIY jerky projects at home and include two different spice blends, non-stick drying screens, and recipe guide. If you can’t make a class, you can grab a kit here online.

Oh yeah, and maybe the best part, remember those massive briskets I mentioned earlier? I got to slice those bad boys up for the class to enjoy with some "damn fine" Brooklyn Brine pickles and we washed it all down with some Six Point Sweet Action.

Sweet Action

Final Note: Since the jerky class, I’ve begun doing my own jerky experiments in the kitchen when I’m not in the cutting room. With the help of the head chef, I’ve been mixing up some pretty interesting flavors. I’ve got one ready, but the jury is still out. It’s called Christmas Coffee and I’ll keep you posted.

Jerky test: Christmas Coffee

Breaking Pork

So I’ve told you where I am and what I’m doing, but there’s been very little about butchery on this blog; and seeing as you’re probably here to learn about meat, or because you’re my mom and you love me, I should go over some of that.   

Over the 12 week hands-on program at Fleishers Craft Butcher, I will become an proficient nose-to-tail butcher. The first half of my training has been taking place at the Fleishers' processing facility where we take a whole animal carcass and break it down into smaller primal and sub-primal cuts. 

Still not following?

Well, you are in luck because I got my hands on some camera equipment…

Like Cocaine in the '80's

Continued from Part 1… Are you kidding me, Hell yeah, I’m going.

Jason, Anderson, and Josh (three butchers I work with) and Sophie, all jumped into a car and headed to North Brooklyn. The drive gave me time to get to know everyone better. As I mentioned before, Jason was a criminal defense attorney. He took a sabbatical from work two years ago and enrolled in the Fleisher’s apprenticeship. His boss told him that he would never come back to the legal world. He was right. Jason loves the stress free life and the opportunity to do something he loves. As he puts it,

"I get to cut some of the best meat, stop and drink coffee when I want, grab a few drinks when I want… stress free."

As I told him my story and sudden career turn around, he mentioned how many of his “corporate world” friends where making that same choice.

"They’re jumping into the “craft” world – opening cheese factories, butcher shops, or wineries."

Affirmation: good.

Jason Yang working on the bandsaw.

We began talking about good restaurants in the area, our favorite chefs, and other butcher - foodie related topics. We even discussed my favorite chef Francis Mallmann. (By the way, Francis, if you’re reading this, call me man. I would kill to work with you.) In that moment, in a car in Brooklyn with a bunch of butchers, I realized this was truly my element. I was finally surrounded by like-minded guys and I friggin’ loved it. New York had been so foreign to me for the past few days, but rollin’ with the Fleisher’s crew, felt like home.

So we arrive at Roberta’s Pizza in Williamsburg, which, according to Sophie, was the hipster joint that started the hipster movement that brought Williamsburg back to life. Roberta’s is so hip it doesn’t even have an outdoor sign to identify itself.

2015-09-21 18.55.41

As we were walking in, I could tell Sophie was on Cloud 9. She was rollin’ with the craft butcher clan of which I hadn’t come to fully appreciate in its entirety. I was happy just to be along for the ride and not having to sit back at the apartment and entertain the hairless cat.

In the back party garden there was a small gathering of people. Everyone was there to celebrate the opening of Heritage Radio Network’s new website. HRN is a foodie radio station in New York, because, why not?

Have I mentioned how cool this place is?

Jason bought us a round of 6 Point Sweet Actions and we got in the food line for… pulled pork sandwiches…?

I’m so confused. I thought we were at Roberta’s Pizza.

Where’s the pizza guys…?

I mean, I’m gonna eat either way, but I’m a little disappointed that this is Roberta’s Pizza and there’s no pizza.

Then I took a bite.

Holy. Shit.

It took everything I had not to flip out over what I had just tasted. I wanted to play it cool and not show my green hand, but thankfully from the look on Jason’s face, I wasn’t the only one stunned by the amazing pork sandwich. I'd never had one with cilantro before and the house-made sauce was ridiculous.

Roberta's pulled pork sandwich with a side of Caesar salad packaged for the go

We grabbed a few more brews after we finished drooling over our non-pizza and mingled with the rest of the gathering crowd. It was about this time that I started to realize how popular craft butchery was. Everyone was treating Jason like a celebrity. Not only does Jason take apprentices for three-month stints, but he also conducts intro-butchery classes on the weekends so all of his former-student/fans were pouring accolades. I commented to the Fleisher’s crew about Jason’s semi-celebrity status and how relieved I was to be surrounded by people who got this whole meat thing. The comment I got back assured me,

"You came to the right place. Butchers in Brooklyn are as big as cocaine was back in the 80’s. You guys are like rock stars."

Well okay then.

I know without a doubt, I have chosen the perfect profession. It was a long road to come to this conclusion, but God truly had his hand on me and guided me to where I am now.

I truly am blessed.

Fleishers Craft Butchery: Day 1

That morning when I stepped off the bus in Red Hook and looked down towards the end of the pier, it hit me. This was my future. This is what I’ve been planning and waiting for and now, here I am. Standing in front of a weathered, wharf warehouse, waiting for my life to kickstart. At the end of the pier there was a small sign hanging on a fabricated metal door. It read “Fleishers Craft Butchery.”

Let’s do this.

As I entered the building I was immediately embraced by my new coworkers: Timmy, a fellow apprentice from Chicago who was tired of trading stocks and my instructor, Jason, who left the DA’s office in New York to become a craft butcher. I could tell I was really going to like these guys.

Straightaway, I felt like a kid on the first day of school. New teacher. New friends. New supplies. I was given my equipment that included chain-mail and knives. The chain-mail apron runs from the top of the chest to just above the kneecaps. Its purpose is to protect important things like femoral arteries. The chain-mail glove, which I’ve come to greatly appreciate, lets me be free with my non-cutting hand and I don’t have to constantly worry about nicking myself. Of the three knives I was given, one was a 5-inch boning knife, another was a 6-inch boning knife, and lastly an 8-inch “breaker.”

My scabbard of knives and my chain-mail glove

Jason started us off slow and had us de-bone a lamb’s neck. He gave us step-by-step instructions on how to break down a lamb, all the while educating us on its anatomy. After a quick “warm-up” break (because it’s 37 degrees in the processing room) he pointed to the rack and told us rookies to give it a shot.

Timmy and I were slow and we asked a lot of questions. But practice makes perfect and by the end of the morning and six lambs later, we had become faster on the full carcass break down as well as savvier on the lamb anatomy.

Carrying lamb carcasses from cooler to cooler.

Of course I came to Fleishers to learn, but I was starting to see I would be gaining so much more than butcher skills. I could immediately sense the tight community these craft butchers have. They really believe in the idea of slow food, locally sourced food, and conscientious food. While Timmy and I were hacking away in the walk-in cooler, the Fleishers chef was busy preparing us lunch. I couldn’t believe it. Everyday these folks stop, sit down, and share a beautiful meal together. Family style. What a nice surprise and delicious blessing.

2015-09-23 12.28.08

After lunch we were back to the cutting block for a lesson in pork. Jason gave us a demo and then prompted us to do the same with our own sides of pork.

Again, I was slow and loaded with lots of questions, but Jason was patient and his clear step-by-step method simplified everything for me.

Introduction to pork

The beginnings of a pork breakdown

Pork breakdown

At 4:15 Jason instructed us to start cleaning our equipment and prepare to wrap up the day. Here’s the problem,

I didn’t want to leave.

My first day of apprenticeship rocked and I didn’t want to go back to my apartment and stare at the hairless cat. Gratefully, Sophie, Fleishers' social media guru, asked me if we wanted to tag along on a company outing.

Are you kidding me,

Hell yeah, I’m going.

(to be continued)

A view from the wharf upon "Lady Liberty."

Green-hand Gringo

My second day on the job was just like anyone else’s in the corporate world. I was given the standard-issue office supplies and equipment:

• Scabbard
• Honing steel
• 6 inch boning knife
• 5 inch skinning knife
• Cut-resistant (not cut proof) gloves
• Water-resistant apron
• Hardhat

Mingling with my new coworkers and conversing mostly through hand signs and broken Spanish, I tried to fit in as best I could. None of the regulars were wearing their issued gloves so I quickly ditched the cut resistant gauntlets and moved into “blend in” mode. Let’s be honest with ourselves, our greatest human instinct is to fit in. Who doesn’t want to fit in? If he jumped off a cliff, would you?

Next came the heavy equipment. I got a quick lesson in band saws and single-trees and believe me when I say that hoisting a carcass on a lift can be just as difficult as fixing a broken copy machine. I’m sure of it.

By afternoon, I had pretty much figured out the workflow – more like a dysfunctional assembly line. There was hollering and unnecessary altercations, all in Spanish. Needless to say, six college semesters of Spanish as a foreign language did not prepare me for what I was hearing on that processing floor.

Corporate Break Room: hardhats, knives, Mexican flag, and Lucha Libre

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT TO FOLLOW

The workflow goes something like this:

• Before the carcass gets to me, it is drained of most of its blood, the ears, horns and front hooves.
• The sternum is then cut so the carcass can be readied for clean out.
• It is then strung up on an overhead pulley called a "single tree" for gutting.

Sidenote: I want to point out here that all of the by-products such as blood, intestines, and bones are an important part of the meat packing industry. It’s a tough business to be in, and anything that can turn a profit is used. Personally, I like that nothing is wasted. This is the way our ancestors provided for themselves. Each animal’s life is sacred, and we honor that by using every piece and part of it.

• Next is capping. Capping is the process of removing the hide from the carcass. Everything about the capping process has to do with technique and on day two I certainly didn’t have the technique … but Primo did. I worked along side Primo watching him skin from tail to neck in a quick 25 seconds. He made it look like slicing soft butter. When it was my turn it took me over two minutes. In my defense, I wanted to go slow and make sure I didn’t cut any holes in the hide because holes mean less money from the hide man. And besides, who wants to cost their boss anymore than they have to?

In case you were wondering, I’m now just as fast as Primo.

• Once you’ve removed the hide, the only part left is to remove the tail. This process is left for green-hand gringos, so I was the man for the job. Once again, if you know the technique it’s easy. If not, you’ll be hacking at bone for three hours. Finally, the carcass is split, washed, and placed in the cooler.

• After the harvesting process, Jefe and I would head out to the hide house. I quickly learned to dread this stage of the process. Working in 105-degree heat inside a raggedy old barn that has a 96% chance of collapsing on top of you isn’t my idea of a day in the park. We would pick fresh-skinned hides up and sling them so that they were spread out on the ground of the barn and then salt them down for preservation. This “hide slinging” is a technique I have yet to master. I’m 6’2” and there were moments where I would be holding a hide above my head, arms shaking from the weight, and I would still be tripping over a hide dragging between my feet.

Salted hides in the Hide House

Then we would salt the hides to take out the moisture and preserve them. After washing up, we would head back to the plant to help work the meat market until the end of the day.

So in review, my new job was just like every other graduate's in the corporate world.