Making chorizo in Patagonia

[chappie]

My friend Gil took a several-month, wandering journey through South America in 2001, during which he kept those of us who couldn't make the trip thoroughly entertained with a series of some of the best emails I've ever received, still parked safely in the nether regions of my inbox.

This was the best. He was in a small town called El Calafate in Argentina, where he met a man who tought him how to make the local variant of chorizo. Without further ado, here is his original story, dated 2-15-01:

* * *

A few days ago I met this quirky old man that's quite a cook. How I met him is another story, but it happened that yesterday I told him I would like him to teach me how to make something, and he suggested we make chorizo (basically sausage, though purists would argue). Immediately I imagined myself impressing everyone back home with my delicious homemade chorizo, and agreed. As the process unrolled, I realized pretty fast that I wasn't going to be making no goddamn chorizo any time soon, and here's why:

HOMEMADE BEEF AND PORK CHORIZO

(I'm sorry, but again this is not intended for those

with weak stomachs, neither the dish nor the story)

Serves 200

Preparation Time: 10 days

1. At your neighborhood butcher's, proceed to the filthy back meat locker and cut the neck off an enormous side of beef. Make sure that the whole lamb (gutted and skinned but with the head still attached) hanging behind you leaves bloody kisses on your back as you lean down to carve off the beef. Walk out with

5kg of beef neck. This meat is especially hard and works well for chorizo.

2. If you haven't already done so, pick up 200kg of solid pork fat from the farm down the street. You'll only need about 5kg for this recipe, but you can

freeze the rest and use it for salad, soup and smoothies.

3. Take out another 5kg of unidentified pork parts from your fridge.

4. Cut the beef, pork and fat into thin long strips, removing the nerves and the hard fat from the beef.

5. Feed everything into your meat grinder, letting the ground mush fall into a huge tub.

6. Add massive amounts of crude salt, oregano, cayenne pepper, black pepper, cinnamon and a bunch of other stuff I don't remember.

7. Chop up 1/2 shitload of garlic and put in the blender with 1/2 liter of white wine from a box and some sugar. Dump it on the tub of meat and after washing your hands (better yet -- take a shower) go to town on the mixture until everything is well-mixed.

8. Flatten the mixture with your hands, then dump a bunch of whiskey on it.

9. Let the mixture sit there for a day, but don't hesitate to fix yourself a little slice of bread with the raw mixture when you're hungry. Yummy? The rest of the recipe will be discovered later this afternoon, but as I understand it we roll it up in tripe and then let it all dry for about a week, at which point you can eat it either raw or cooked.

I keep telling this guy that after he teaches me all his secrets I'm going to open my own little restaurant right next door to his, and luckily he thinks I'm kidding. In case one of you is thinking of doing the same, good luck, but be aware that I've left out the secret ingredient.

Cheers, and I'll let you know how it turns out.

Gil

P.S. I keep waiting for that one experience that will finally make me want to become a vegetarian, but it's looking more and more like that's not going to happen.

Edited January 11, 2007 by chappie (log)

[johnnyd]

Outstanding. mmm... porkfat smoothies!

[chappie]

Upon rereading this I realize I should have followed up on the secret ingredient and the promised answer, which I never got, to "how it turned out."