Going the Whole Hog (1: Feijoada)
Farmer’s markets never really took off in Stirling. In the end I gave up going to the smattering of stalls that lined the gravelly parking place on the first Saturday of every month. It may be that Stirling is actually a bit out of the way. At weekends, either Glasgow or Edinburgh are better bets for stall holders and a lot of the university professors probably buy their stuff in Perth.
But here in the South of England farmers markets are a serious movement. What they can’t provide, local farmshops take care of and since we have a freezer this means that we no longer buy meats from the supermarket (and probably not veg either, come the season).
The British farmer’s markets are not regular, twice-weekly affairs like those in continental Europe. This is because the movement insists that not only must produce be local (‘At a Hampshire Farmers’ Market all produce being sold must have been grown, reared, caught, brewed, pickled, baked, or processed within Hampshire or ten miles of the border.’) but also staffed by people normally working for the producer. This means we won’t get any Gloucester Old Spot or Devon Scrumpy here and when the farmers are busy (as in the imminent lambing season) they won’t come at all. I doubt the wisdom of all this— but when it happens, the market is quite an event.
Every two months it comes to Basingstoke.
The very first two stalls that lined the market square and adjoining streets on the cool, crisp morning of February 20th belonged to a producer of free-range pork and an associated ‘Hog Roasting Service’. After filling up on a steaming roll crammed full with rich, moist meat, crisp crackling, mustard, apple sauce and a sliver of stuffing (in fact a whole roast-in-a-bun) it was time to turn to the shopping—and the first thing I saw was a cool box packed high with vacuum-packed pig heads (sawn in half) stacked next to another full of trotters. We were in business!
To my delight, I had just managed to get my hands on Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s River Cottage Meat Book from the library. Here was the attitude to meat rearing, cooking and eating that my mother instilled in me back in the late sixties and that revolves around the whole animal. Here finally was mention of trotters, heads and offal. The book is actually quite limited in the range of recipes that it provides because many of them can be found in HFW’s earlier works but that is fine by me since I did not have to fork out the sales price for it—and the library has his whole back catalogue (for being the size of our lounge it is a rather good library).
So after stocking up with heavy bags of shopping I returned to the kitchen to try the first in a series of recipes I’ve dubbed ‘Adventures in Meat’:
Feijoada (improvised…)
Brazil’s National Dish, I have since found out, originated from the time of slavery. As is the case for so many of the world’s geat dishes, the means dictated the ends and, nowadays refined with various sausages and delicacies, Feijoada has become a famous classic. But in principle it consists of scraps from the master’s table together with unwanted trimmings salted down until enough was accumulated to stew slowly with black beans until the meat was meltingly tender.
I had never heard of it, but it sounds delicious.
In keeping with the spirit of the dish’s origins, there is little point in seeking out the more exotic ingredients which may go into it—unless you can get to a Portugese/Brazilian deli—but chorizo is a must. I had about 50g of sandwich chorizo left, so I shredded that and made up the rest of the smoky/spicy component with mini kabanos from the freezer and a pinch of smoked paprika. So shoot me. I actually think the light carraway taste of the kabano works but then this is the kind of dish in which almost everything works.
According to HFW, the meat components of Feijoada must achieve a balance between the gelatinous (pig’s trotters/ears/tails/snouts), the fatty (bacon/pork belly), the lean (gammon/shoulder) and the spicy (smoked sausages). The following version, stripped down to what I happened to have available, feeds six. There is no point in cooking an even smaller portion. Allow three days in all:
- 2 pig’s trotters; 1 ear; 1 snout (I happened to have it left over)
These come with bits of the farmyard attached so pour over boiling water (or cover with water, bring to the boil and drain, then repeat), scrub with a stiff brush, trim off the skin between the trotter’s toes and finally shave off the bristles. Sprinkle with a handful of salt and chill for 1-2 days. Herbs can be added to the salt for flavouring (a sprinkling of dried oregano in my case). - 200g fresh gammon (and optional salt beef); 500g black beans
Rinse the salted-down cuts in plenty of cold water and soak with the gammon (salt beef) overnight.Soak the beans separately.
- 125g chorizo; 125 g piece smoked bacon; 125g fresh sausages (2 medium-sized quality bangers); 1 bay leaf; small bunch of parsley and thyme; splash lard or oil; 1 onion; 2 celery sticks; 2 garlic cloves; 2 large tomatoes, skinned; salt & pepper; tabasco/piri-piri sauce.
Put the beans in a pot large enough to take all the ingredients, cover with 5cm water with the herbs and boil hard 10 minutes, then turn down heat and simmer another 20 minutes. If salt is introduced too early, the beans will not soften.
Add the drained meats except for the gammon and simmer 1 hour.
Cut the gammon, smoked bacon and chorizo into rough cubes and brown in batches. Mix into the stew. Brown, but set aside, the fresh sausage. Finely chop the onion and celery and crush the garlic. Sweat until translucent then add the chopped tomatoes and simmer gently until pulpy. Set aside.
After another hour (about 3½ in total) remove a cup of beans, mash and return to the pot along with the tomato sauce. Chop up any large chunks of meat and the fresh sausages and add to the pot along with a good dash of tabasco/piri-piri sauce. Simmer for another half hour, adjusting the liquid and season to taste.
Serve with plain rice and steamed greens and offer a bottle of the tabasco/piri-piri sauce and toasted farofa (manioc) flour or brown breadcrumbs to sprinkle over and perhaps a plate of cut oranges to counteract the fat and salt.
Denni