Still Swimming

There's this post by @ReformedBroker that should motivate you to get your ass out of bed and become the most valuable member of your organization.

While I'm waiting for the apocalypse, I'm going to continue making my pastrami.

The brisket is still corning; fat side down. She will dry brine and smoke fat side up. Another day or two in the pool. Then 24-48 hours debrining. Then 48-96 hours dry brining. Then a short slow 4-6 hour live oak smoke.

Refrigerate for a day or two.

Steam up to temp in steamer rack. Hand cut slices.

[what i'm hoping for in my pastrami voyage]

An Attempt at Pastrami

I have a 13 pound brisket swimming in a nitrite enhanced brine. With the help of my SIL (a Bolner who grew up in a full service butcher shop), I separated the point from the flat. And then put together the dry ingredients.

Then I threw them in the pool, where they have been soaking since Sunday.

The point will be corned beef. The flat will be further processed into pastrami...another three to four day wait time. I don't have a lot of patience. But on this on single thing, I am out to prove that The Granary's concept of pastrami is wildly off base, and is just another misguided hipster attempt at relevance.

I'm only four days into this experiment, with at least another ten day's worth of anticipation. But I'm keeping copious notes.

[i should add that i am adept at wet and dry brining, as well as smoking a variety of brined flesh, including salmon and trout]

Roots

Half of my blood comes from Palazzo Adriano: http://goo.gl/maps/y44Wb

A trip to Prizzi and Corleone, up and down some very shitty mountainous roads, will take considerably longer than the 31 minutes it shows in Google maps. But, it's a great drive. And the people are friendly as hell, to a point.

PSA Don't ask about the mafia. Ever. That is so not halal, dude.

I have a dog. I am a hostage.

Actually, I have two dogs. But one dog has changed my life. And that is why I say, "I have a dog." Sheila [Shazam] is a fence jumper. So her well being is my sole responsibility. I cannot afford for her to be unsupervised in my back yard. So I must confine her to an indoor crate while I'm away from the house (my home). She loves her crate. It is her safe place. It is her house. It is her home. And she would gladly hang out there forever (with the latch open, of course) were it not for the fact that she wants to murder a chicken or two in my next door neighbor's back yard. I am a responsible person, but I didn't sign up for this.

I am a hostage of my own making. If you would like to share Sheila [Shazam]'s awesomeness, call me. 210.787.9516