Toast

Terrinerama: Reminder and a Recipe

So I'm giving this virtual party, and I hope some of you will come. There's a door prize- a copy of a nice new book about Terrines, which will be awarded, in random,picked-out-of-the-proverbial-hat fashion (for who am I to judge?), to someone who submits his or her terrine recipe and photo by the deadline: June first. You can do this by sending me a permalink to your post, or if you do not have a blog, you can email me your photo and recipe. These should go to lindystoast at gmail dot com.

Shortly thereafter, I will do a roundup of the submissions, and post it, with links. Terrines submitted after the deadline will be included in the roundup, which I will continue to update. It's just that if you are late, you will miss the drawing. I will announce and email the winner, who can send me the address for mailing. It is a very cool book. It was the inspiration for the following recipe, which I think makes a good, adaptable template for a tasty vegetarian, starter kind of terrine.

There seems to be some thought that this is a topic for pros, and that terrines and pates are inherently fussy and difficult. Not so. A meatloaf is a pate or terrine, and so is chopped liver. I was going to save my own terrine, and its easy recipe for the roundup, but I'm going to post it now, so you can see just how untricky this can be. If you want to make something elaborate, please do, of course, but this is not meant to be esoteric! I'm hoping to collect a real mix of ideas for making in my own new little porcelain terrine.

I think this one makes a good first course, because it is tasty, but not too filling, and can be made ahead, early the same day, or even the day before, and kept in the fridge. It could even make a very acceptable healthy/diet sort of thing, if you make it with milk, rather than cream. That is how the one in the photo was made, and it did not taste like imitation food, as lowfat recipes so often do. It is very general recipe, adaptable to your container size, and the vegetables you may have around. Go for nice color and flavor combinations, of course.

Here is how you make it:

Line a terrine or loaf pan with plastic wrap, allowing it to hand over the long sides. Butter the short sides. Preheat oven to 350F. Steam or simmer your veg until firm tender. I used asparagus, scallions, zucchini, peas and carrots. Cut the larger vegetables into matchsticks, not too small. Beat together 4 eggs and 1 1/4 cups of milk or cream (or proportional amounts to fit your container), salt, pepper and some fresh tarragon leaves if you have them, with a grating of fresh nutmeg.

Pour a bit in the bottom of the lined container to make a thin base layer. Add a layer of veg, then some more egg mixture, etc., until you have come nearly to the top. It will all get jumbled, don't worry, just have the matchsticks of each separate veg face the same way. Wrap the cling film over the top. If your vessel of choice has a lid, put it on. Set in a roasting pan, or the like, in your oven, and pour boiling water into the larger pan, until it is halfway up the sides of the smaller. Mine took 40 minutes in my little white terrine. The tip of a knife inserted in the middle should come clean when it's done.

Cool, and carefully unfold the plastic wrap covering the top. Use the plastic wrap to remove the terrine from the baking pan. As you can see, it slices very nicely with a sharp knife.

Your turn.

One Frozen Duck: Part II Confit and Cassoulet

I'm going to show you a really easy way to make a duck confit. When Paula Wolfert takes a short cut, you've got to know it's not a cop-out. The woman is nothing if not the queen of patience in service to authenticity. However, if you are not up for even this level of fiddling, you can make my inauthentic but IMHO tasty cassoulet with purchased confit. You'll need two leg/thigh sections for the payoff dish. There are many other nifty uses for a duck confit, too, I hope to get to that soon.

A. Confit

If you were following along with Part I, you've got a little plastic bag in the fridge, with some salted and seasoned duck parts, those being 2 leg and thigh sections, 2 wings, and the neck. You also have 4 cups of rendered duck fat. Possibly this is actually a duck/goose fat blend. You may even be stretching it with olive oil. I hope you have a crock pot, or other slow cooker. The smaller the better, really. The little ones are fabulously cheap, and have many uses, including impromptu fondue pot, overnight oatmeal maker, and so on.

Before you go to bed, plug in the crock pot, and set it on low. Brush most of the bits of seasoning off the duck parts, and put them in the pot. Liquify the fat by heating it in the microwave or otherwise, at a lowish heat so as not to induce bubbling over. Pour over the duck parts, and make sure they are covered completely by fat. If not, add that olive oil..or some lard until they are entirely submerged. Put on the lid, and go to sleep.

In the morning, sprinkle coarse salt on the bottom of a clean container large enough to hold the contents of the crock pot. Use tongs to lift out the very soft duck,
and set it all in the clean container. Pour the liquid fat through a very fine strainer over the duck, again making sure it's all covered with the fat. Let this cool while you get ready for work, or make some coffee and breakfast, or both. When it's cooled down, cover and refrigerate. Was that easy or what?

Later in the day, if you've used a flexible plastic container, you can pop out the confit and fat in a block. There will be a layer of rich duck jelly on the bottom. You can peel this off, and store separately in the fridge, to add depth of flavor to any of the duck dishes I'm going on about. Not to worry if not, though, the salt on the bottom will keep it from going off until you work your way down.

Store the confit in the fridge for at least a week, so the characteristic confit flavor can develop.Now you are ready to use these goodies. It is best, food safety-wise, to thoroughly heat the confit before serving. Mostly, you will want to cook it in its own fat until it's crispy, and delightful. Merci, Ms. Wolfert.

B. Cheater's Cassoulet

1 lb Great Northern beans
some of that dock stock you made in Part I- (or
a quart of good boxed chicken or turkey stock)
an onion with 5 cloves stuck in it
a couple of bay leaves
thyme sprigs
6-7 cloves of garlic
your confit and the fat that clings to it when you remove it from the container
4 garlic sausages- I used the already cooked chicken ones
a pork chop
bread crumbs from a country loaf- about 2 cups
salt
pepper
a 15 oz can of tomatoes
salt
pepper
olive oil

This is seriously unseasonal, I know, but it was cold here last week. I'm eager for the local produce and the farm box to start up, but so far, there's not much to be had. A friend brought me some just-cut asparagus from her garden, which was beyond fabulous- I was so lucky. I was all over cooking and consuming it instantly... but there's not been much yet, since then. In the meantime, if the weather isn't balmy where you live, you might want to give this a try.

Soak your beans over night, in water to cover. In the morning, drain them, put them in a heavy pot, add the stock, and water, if necessary, to cover. Put the pork chop, bay, thyme, onion and garlic in with the beans. Bring to a boil, then turn to a simmer. Salt and pepper to taste, then cook until the beans are very tender. When they are cooked completely, snatch the chop out with some tongs, and set it on a cutting board. Add the can of tomatoes, and continue to simmer the beans. (Don't add the tomatoes until the beans are tender. .The acid in the tomatoes will stop them softening properly.)Preheat the oven to 350F.

While the beans and tomatoes are cooking, shred the confit into a 3 qt covered enameled cast iron or stonewear casserole, preferably one which has a lid. It will have some fat clinging to it. Add a bit more fat, the sausages, sliced, and the pork chop, cut in cubes. Cook, over a low heat, until the confit is browned and crispy, and the rest of the meat has browned edges..Add the beans and their cooked-down liquid to the casserole, and mix it all up well. Cover with a thick layer of the crumbs, and drizzle or spray with olive oil. Bake for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, until there's major bubbling up happening around the edges. the breadcrumbs should be nicely browned now. Consume with some friends and a bit of green salad.

If you like, you can assemble the whole casserole, and keep it in the fridge for a day. If you do that, you should let it come to room temperature for about 1/2 hour, while you preheat the oven. This is very sociable food. There is going to be a a nice duck breast supper soon. Stay tuned.

Terrinerama : A Prize

I have an interesting new book all about terrines, and I'm very excited to make some more. You see above a variant I made up myself,..I think it is going to be a fair template for all sorts of vegetable terrines with various flavor combinations. It is light-ish , and makes a pretty good starter, since it doesn't fill you up, but whets the appetite.

I thought that it would be nice to collect some more recipes, so I 'm going to have a little kind-of contest/event here. It has been my experience that I need some sort of occasion or prompting to try things of this sort- but I generally get quite a kick out of my efforts when I do. I hope you will too.

I bought a second copy of the book, which will be given to a randomly selected (names in hat) entrant. You need not be a blogger to participate. If you email me a photo of your own terrine creation (original or attributed), and your recipe, I will post it.

If you've a blog, just send the permalink. If you do either by June 1, you will be eligible for the drawing, and I will do a roundup shortly thereafter, so we can all enjoy and try out each others ideas. I'll post my vegetable terrine template recipe with the others. Please feel free to offer any sort, vegetable, meats, poultry, game, desserts, fruits; all will be appreciated. Any vessel will do as well- I'm looking forward to both original ideas and some classic pates.

The little porcelain terrine you see below came home with me from the Steamer Trading Cookshop in Brighton. I have the dangerous habit of buying fragile objects while traveling, which I them must carry home on my lap, because they can't be safely packed in my luggage.

By my usual standards (giant decorative plates and immense jars, set of tea glasses, etc.) it was a sensible buy- fitting, as it did, in my tote bag, neatly bubble wrapped. In fact, I bought it in part because I felt it was a level-headed purchase. I've been wanting one for some time, so I knew what they cost, and it was the only thing I'd seen in two weeks which was marginally less expensive there than here. (I do have the nice old le creuset flame terrine which belonged to my mother, but it is quite big- only really appropriate for a major project. The new one is small and less daunting. Also, very cute.)

Pretty much everything else on offer looked fine until I reminded myself that merchandise was marked in pounds, not dollars, so that, basically, it was all twice as costly as seemed reasonable. At any rate, I have this nice memento of my trip, and I'm all set to try out a few ideas for terrines and pates. All of you Brits and Europeans should absolutely come to visit , very soon. Bring empty suitcases so you can shop and stuff them full while the dollar flounders and flops. Come on, your savings will pay your plane fare...I'm not kidding.

And do think about making a pate or terrine for our collection.

Addendum: Once again I am convinced that some things are just sort of in the air: The New York Times has a story in the Sunday Magazine section (4/27/08) about terrines, and about this very book, which was written by the French chef, Stephane Reynaud. The NYT article includes two interesting terrine recipes.

Another Addendum: Here's a recipe for the pictured terrine. Do join us, please.

Rillettes II, (The Obsessed) : Lamb

So I still haven't made casing sausages. I keep getting distracted, in this realm, by the surprisingly easy potted meats and country pates which just seem to have my name on them. This one appeared in the NYTimes Magazine recently, and caused me a little twinge of regret. The regret has to do with a certain churlish reluctance to share the generally under-appreciated qualities of the lamb neck bone.

I am a great fan of those wonderfully gelatinous bits of animal which were once such bargains (osso buco, shortribs, oxtails, etc.) and are now the darlings of chefs and foodies and cost as much as steaks. Only lamb neck bones are still cheap as chips, and I fervently wish for this to continue. An appearance in the NYTimes does not necessarily bode well here. Fate.

Unlike the pork rillettes I made not so long ago, this recipe calls for prodigious quantities of olive oil. The pork rillettes were delicious without that feature. I was torn. I decided to go with the recipe as written, but make only half of it. Which I did. It fit very nicely in my favorite (only) little Staub pan.

Adapted (halved) from Daniel Patterson, in the New York Times Magazine:

lamb's neck, bone in 2 1/2 lbs
Salt
onion, sliced one small
carrot, peeled and sliced one smal
thyme a sprig
fennel seeds 1/2 tsp
coriander seeds 1/2 tsp
black peppercorns 1/2 tsp
chili flakes 1/2 tsp
olive oil (approximately 2 cups)
Freshly ground black pepper.

A day ahead of time, season the lamb's neck with salt. Cover and refrigerate. The next day, preheat the oven to 225F. Put the lamb's neck and the vegetables, herbs and spices in a covered casserole fitting them snugly.Cover with olive oil. Cover and cook in the oven until very tender, about 7 hours.
Let the lamb cool in the pot until just warm, then pull the meat and fat from the bones and put it in the bowl, of your stand mixer. Shred the meat by hand and add 1/4 cup of oil.

Finely chop the cooked vegetables and add to the bowl. Mix on low until the fat is incorporated. Season with salt and pepper. With a rubber spatula, pack the lamb into little ramekins, leaving 1/2" on top. Cover with melted clarified butter or lard. In the alternative, pack into a plastic wrap lined bowl, or mold. Refrigerate for at least one day, preferably three, to allow the flavors to develop.

Remove the rillettes from the refrigerator about an hour before you plan to eat them. Either serve with a small spreading knife, or if you have molded it, unmold and slice. Serve with a salad or some crusty bread. Serves 6 to 8 for a lunch or starter. My smaller amount here made one mini- loaf pan, and one ramekin.

Verdict: Yes these are yummy, and very nice with the crusty bread and salad deal. They are not, however, yummier than the pork rillettes of the recent past. Since those were stewed in water, rather than buckets of olive oil, with no discernable flavor or creaminess deficit, I will be adapting that one to other meats in the future. I will not, however, let the fact that these are less than 100% health food prevent me from enjoying them for supper. Mustard and pickled onions are both very good with these.

The other rillettes recipe had a preferred alternative which involved veal stock, rather than water. I don't generally have veal stock around, and bones to make it with are in short supply in the places I generally shop. When I do see a few, I pick the up and put them in the freezer. Once I get enough to make some stock, I might give that alternative a try. We'll see.

Pork Rilettes

Rilettes make a tasty first course , and are an excellent picnic or take-along snack. You pack them in small containers, which are highly portable. I think they look and taste elegant, spread from their pretty little crock, which has been sealed on top with its thin coat of fat. They are as easy to make as anything could be, no special equipment needed, and no expensive ingredients required. Recently, I learned that rilettes keep several weeks in the refrigerator, which is a plus for a person who lives on her own. It really is strange that more people don't make them. I had never made them before myself.

I was planning on doing some casing sausages for my next project in the new-to-me realm of charcuterie. However, I hadn't yet rounded up any casings. (I finally did get some a bit later..at last.) I realized , leafing through my primer on the topic, that it contained a simple sounding plan for Pork Rilettes for which no shopping would be necessary. Moreover, what it called for, primarily, was time, rather than attention. It all seemed perfect, as I planned a day at home anyway, finishing some written work, and doing some too long neglected laundry.

It was a good thing I had all day, because it took more time even than I had realized. This was in part because of the process of rendering the pork fat for the seal- an entertainment not recommended for the hopelessly impatient. I actually found it relaxing, which I suppose means I'm not nearly the frenzied soul I once was. Described in various places as taking an "hour or two", or "a couple of hours", rendering one pound of pork fat took me 4 hours. And you will probably want to render your own fat for this, unless you have a source for additive free, carefully rendered lard, which is not, I assure you, your ordinary American supermarket product. A peak at the ingredients on a bucket of supermarket lard is not for the queasy.

Perhaps I was overly cautious and kept the fire a bit too low under my pot. I did not want to turn the heat up too high, because of warnings that if the fat colored, it would be ruined. One does not, after all, want to putter around for hours with a bit of fat, and have it turn out worthless due to a moment's impatience. In any event, as I had much more beautiful, clear-as-a-window rendered lard than I needed to seal the crocks, I am now in the fortunate position of deciding what to do with the rest. More charcuterie? A lard/butter crust (my favorite) for a splendid pie? A "player to be named later"?

If you would like some homemade rilettes, this is what you do, adapted from Messers Polcyn and Ruhlman in Charcuterie:

1. Render some pork fat

In a small heavy saucepan, put about a pound of fresh pork fat, cut in smallish cubes. Add 1/4 cup of water. Bring to a simmer, then turn down very, very low and cook until the water is evaporated and you have a pan of clear fat, ornamented with lovely little brown crackling bits. This takes hours. Stir occasionally. Strain through a strainer lined in cheesecloth (or, in my case, a jelly bag, as I was out of cheesecloth). Cool, then keep refrigerated. Extract the little brown bits from the strainer and save to season your vegs, or sprinkle over mashed potatoes. (another bonus-bad for you, yet divine.)

2. Make rillettes

I made a considerably smaller amount than the Charcuterie directions, but the principles are the same.
You can make more if you have more folks to feed. As I said, it keeps for several weeks.

Fatty piece of pork butt, cut in 1" cubes 1 pound
a leek
herbs of choice for bouquet garni (I used marjoram, fennel fronds, bay and thyme)
small onion stuck with 3 cloves
opt, Veal broth to cover (Didn't have any hanging around, I used water-an option)
peppercorns
pinch of 4 spice (my Penzey's version has white pepper, nutmeg, cinnamon and cloves)
salt

Preheat oven to 300F. Slit, wash, and trim the leek. Insert herbs of choice in the middle and tie the lot up with kitchen string. Cute, no? Put peppercorns in some cheesecloth, or a tea ball.

Set your pork cubes in a little sturdy oven-friendly pot, cover with water, and bring to a boil. Drain and rinse with cold water. Pour in stock or water to cover by an inch. Add bouquet garni, 4 spice, peppercorns, 1 tsp salt, and the onion. Bring to a simmer, and cover, slide into oven. Cook 4-6 hours, until it's all falling to shreds.

Cool a bit, and drain, saving the liquid. Put the meat in the bowl of your electric mixer, and beat for a minute or two, adding some of the liquid, until it reaches a paste-like texture. Taste for salt and pepper, and adjust seasoning. Pack into small decorative containers, leaving a bit of space on top. Once they have cooled , heat the rendered fat, and pour over to cover the rilettes completely and come to the top of the container. Chill until hardened and white, then cover with plastic wrap, and store in the fridge. Tasty and rich, these are nice spread on crusty bread, toast, or crackers, and well set off by something pickled. My smaller version of the recipe makes 3 little 6 oz crocks as pictured, plus a bit left to try right away.

If my sweet and sour prunes were ready, I'd offer some with the rilettes. I think I'm going to need to make a few more pickled garnishes for future experiments in charcuterie. Fine with me, sounds like fun. Further readings on rilettes have alerted me to the possibilities of sealing the crocks with clarified butter, which is a tad less time consuming to fix than the rendered pork fat. Maybe next time. There is definitely going to be a next time.

Pruneaux a la Aigre-Doux

I have always liked prunes, now often referred to as "dried plums" in an attempt to avoid the non-glamourous associations which may come to mind. But my affection for the prune was reanimated by both the fabulous cake of the redfox (who just happens to be kith and kin), and the recent David Lebowitz pruneathon. So, as I began perusing my new copy of the lovely and inspirational Cooking of Southwest France, by the ever-wonderful Paula Wolfert, I heard her recipe for Sweet and Sour Prunes calling my name.

They were just the thing really, as they are recommended as perfect with a variety of charcuterie, an area I happen to be exploring lately. I really am a huge fan of that which is pickled, salted ,smoked, jellied or otherwise hand preserved- a kind of pantry-obsessed nutcase. (I'm also very partial to nuts- of the edible kind.But I keep them in the freezer-unless, of course, they've been pickled.) The only trouble is, I have to wait 6 weeks before these prunes are ready. I thought I'd better get started, particularly as I hope to enjoy them while I am still on this charcuterie kick.

I deviated in three respects from the dictates of P.W. First, I failed to notice that I was supposed to be using prunes with the pits intact, and bought the wrong kind. Secondly, the Armangac I snuck in at the end was not original. However, I could not resist using it. I had a recent battle with myself about buying it, which I lost, or won, depending on how you look at it. It was an important part of another P.W. recipe from the same new cookbook, but it is uniformly very expensive. My plan had been to buy a couple of those little airline-sized bottles, just to use in a few recipes. A very much nicer than usual state store clerk went out of his way to see if any were available in the whole Commonwealth of PA, promising to get them in for me. Nope. So, I wound up with a whole large bottle, and intend to sip some after dinner to ease the pain of insolvency. Third, I used different vinegar. Mea culpa.

My slightly adulterated version requires:

prunes, with pits if you are paying attention while shopping 12 oz.
brewed tea 1 cup-PW suggests chamomile or orange pekoe
granulated sugar 1 1/2 cups
vinegar 2 cups PW calls for tarragon white wine vinegar-I used spanish sherry vinegar
sprig tarragon (if, like me, you didn't use tarragon vinegar)
cinnamon stick
cloves 2 whole
vodka
Armangnac 2 tbsps (opt)

First, put the prunes in a small saucepan with the tea, and simmer 10 minutes. Let them stand for a few hours. Meantime, mix the sugar, vinegar tarragon, cinnamon and cloves in another small saucepan. (This is the last small saucepan you need today. If, like me, you only have two of them, you can breathe easily.) Chill til cold.

Drain the prunes. You can toss the tea. I tasted it first, yokel that I am. Don't bother. Dry the prunes with a fresh dishtowel or paper towels. If you got the ones with pits, poke each one a couple of times with a pin. Needless to say, this is unnecessary if they are pitted and hence already have huge holes in them. Put them in a non reactive vessel of some kind- and strain the vinegar solution over them. Let them rest 24 hours.

The next day, strain the vinegar solution into a nonreactive pan, which you will have washed out yesterday, no? Toss out the tarragon, cloves and cinnamon. Boil 6-8 minutes. Put the prunes in a very clean glass pint ball jar. Chill the vinegar mix-then pour over prunes. Add the armagnac, then enough vodka to cover the prunes. Seal, and put in a dark dry spot for (at least) 6 weeks. Refrigerate after opening.

You may be able to see, in the picture, my embarassingly marthaesque vanity preserves labels. I have 2 kinds, one small and oval, the other larger and square, with spaces to fill in the type and date- I got them from My Own Labels, who give you quite a bit of room to customize. Mine also bear the name of my personal fantasy confiture company, "Wildlife Preserves". I know, I know. But I had to label them, didn't I?

BTW, as long as I'm babbling on about pantry goodies, here's a brief update on the Luxardo Maraschino cherry experiments: The far and away winner among my trials is the simple jar of mixed sweet and sour dried cherries, ordered from the Bakers' Catalogue people at King Arthur Flour, maraschino liquor poured over them to fill small jar, lid screwed on tight, in the fridge one month before opening. My oh my. I love these to bits.

Small Steps to the Garde Manger: Breakfast Sausage With Sage and Ginger

I recently bought myself a copy of Charcuterie, by Michael Ruhlman and Brian Polcyn, with intentions of reviewing it for Food Bound-the soon to be added section of the Well Fed Network, all about the literature of food. I also recently got a grinder attachment for my Kitchenaid, with my Amazon birthday gift certificate. I'm pretty excited (and a bit fearful) over entering a realm I've generally left for the experts. There is something about the preparation of sausages , pates, smoked meats meats and fishes which seems both more athletic and more mathematical than most cooking. Neither physical strengh nor mathematics has ever been my strong suit.

There does seem to be a fair amount of grinding, meat cutting, and temperature-taking involved. On the other hand, I adore pates and sausages, rilletes and bacon, confits et. al. and the general topic of preserving. Clearly if I want to write a useful review, I will need to make several recipes. So I thought I'd break myself in with what seems to be the simplest recipe in the book, a breakfast sausage with ginger and sage.

It is simpler than most of the preparations, because it does not need to be stuffed into a casing-it can be made into patties, or frozen in a log and sliced off as needed. I don't have any sausage casings, and will have to do some investigating to find some. Also, I was able to use the hunk of pork butt which was taking up a lot of space in my over-the-fridge, one-and-only freezer. I did cut the recipe in half, as the pork butt was only 4 lbs after I hacked out the bone. It was a good thing I did, because 1/2 of the recipe made 2 huge logs of sausage. At the rate I consume breakfast sausage, it is a very adequate supply indeed. You need these ingredients, which must be well chilled, as must your equipment:

boneless pork butt diced 5 lbs
kosher salt 3 tbsps
finely grated fresh ginger 5 tbsps
finely chopped fresh sage 5 tbsps
minced garlic 1 tbsp
ground pepper 2 tsps
ice water 1 cup

Equipment: stand miner with grinder and paddle attachments- chill bowl and moving parts

I'm sure you could also use a manual meat grinder and do the last step by hand. In truth, I would be tempted to try this with preground pork if I had none of this equipment, because the flavor is so good. However, it would not be the same-the texture of this sausage is lovely, too- and nothing like ground meat from the grocery. No pictures, I'm afraid, I thought I'd do them frying in the cast iron skillet, but the light in the kitchen said "flash or no photo." They did not retain their allure in the lurid glow of the flash. In fact, they looked quite frightening, so I've spared you. They look very nice in person, not special or different from any other breakfast sausage, though.

You combine everything but the water, quite thoroughly, and chill the mixture. Grind through the small holed grinder, into the chilled bowl of your stand mixer. This takes a while, especially if you have never done it before. There is a little pusher to help it along. Put the bowl on the mixer with the paddle attachment, add the ice water, and mix on medium for about 1 minute. Fry up a bit to correct seasoning, exclaim, "But it is perfect!"- always assuming you agree, of course. Make into patties, or do as I did, and form your sausage into conveniently sized logs, wrap in plastic wrap, and freeze. When you are ready to cook, slice off rounds from the log-rather like icebox cookies.

Now comes the hard part- cleaning up. You must disassemble your grinder and clean it meticulously-for festering bits of meat would be not only scandalously unhealthy, but a huge vile turn off. This takes forever. but I am here to tell you it is worth it. The seasoning is delicious and fresh, the texture is light and delicate, and these breakfast sausages are truly out of sight-in a good way.I'm looking forward to further ventures in more elaborate charcuterie.