Convivial Boar

Paella and Sangria –“We’re having what?”

October 19, 2014 by Convivial Boar 4 Comments

Our paella featuring chicken, chorizo sausage, prawns, and crawfish

I struggle to determine exactly when things begin —once something happens it seems it has always been so and my mind can’t sort out the moments before it happened —at least not very well. For instance, I cannot determine when I first heard the word “paella” uttered. Suffice it to say that growing up in South Arkansas, we did not regularly dine on paella. But somehow the notion of a paella began to dance in the Boar’s head.

I wonder why?

Months before our annual family trip to Lake Table Rock, my family traveled with friends to Santa Fe, New Mexico. I mentioned to our friends that I was interested in Spanish cuisine—especially, paella. Next thing we knew, I was skipping (or my version of walking happily) out of a Spanish cooking store with a paella pan big enough to serve twenty feasters, a long wood handled flat-spatula, two ounces of saffron, and a bag of paella rice. The pan balanced on our suitcases –and clamoring with every bump for hundreds of miles –served as the soundtrack to my daydreams of a paella feast —I’ve heard others in the car describe the sounds differently.

Back at home, I cleaned and seasoned my paella pan as visions of a feast began to form in my head, like a coming storm. The pan beckoned me as a blank canvas to an artist. I researched and studied for months, the urge growing stronger by the day. Finally, I decided to unleash the paella feast on my family during the Lake Table Rock trip.

My announcement to the family was met with questions along the line of, “we are having what?,” “what is that?” And my personal favorite from a boy who shall remain nameless (but with whom I share a roof), “Why don’t you just make ribs again like you did last year? Why are you always trying to make something nobody ever heard of?” Alas, the young lad solidified that which he sought to discourage —I’m sure a therapist will help him understand me later in life. I find few things as alluring as making a feast for the first time and serving it to feasters who have never heard of it before. The game was afoot.

In a later post, we will go step-by-step through our paella feast preparations, but today let’s explore why the Boar fixated on this dish…

tradition, unique pan, and fire…

Paella is a traditional rice dish of Spain —and the fact that it is typically prepared outdoors over an open fire in a large pan makes it an excellent feasting-food. The name of the dish comes from the special pan in which it is prepared. A paella pan is a large flat pan with short sides typically made of carbon steel (though other types exist).

fresh local ingredients…

Traditional paella was made with rabbit and snails. Hmm, isn’t that interesting…even with my credibility as a feast-maker not sure I can sell my family on rabbit and snail as part of a dish they never heard of. But looking more closely at the origins and development of paella, I discover that it was simply a rice dish to feature fresh local ingredients —rabbit and snail just happened to be what was at hand at the time, lucky them. Most paella today is made with some combination of fresh meat, seafood and vegetables.

sofrito with an array of peppers

aromatic, complex and unique flavor foundation…

The foundation (and many say the secret) of good paella (as with many Spanish dishes) is sofrito. While many variations exist, sofrito is an aromatic sauce made with tomatoes (typically grated or pureed), onions, and garlic (sometimes herbs and peppers are added). Sofrito infuses the paella (and nearby feast-watchers) with aroma and depth. The word sofrito means “gently fried.” To prepare sofrito for paella, the tomato, onion and garlic are slowly sautéed in olive oil —typically after meats have been browned in the oil creating a complex and unique flavor profile.

particular rice to absorb flavorful liquid…

Paella is essentially a rice dish —so, not surprisingly, the rice is important. The rice of choice is Bomba or Valencia. These are favored because of the short-grains that soak in more liquid than other varieties (three cups liquid to every one cup rice) which means the rice will absorb more of the powerful flavors of the sofrito and rich broths.

seductive essence…

Since the time of Cleopatra saffron has enjoyed a mystic allure as a seductive and powerful essence. Today, saffron is known as the Queen of Spices and is the most expensive spice (price estimates for one pound exceed $1,500 —no wonder its sold by the gram). Luckily, a little goes a long way. For paella saffron is dissolved in the broths to add color, flavor and allure.

celebration of the crusty edges…

The most prized part of paella is the Socarrat —the crusty part of rice on the edge and bottom of the pan where it singes and caramelizes. Obtaining a Socarrat requires patience and poise at the end of the paella cooking. Once the liquid is absorbed, the rice will begin to singe. The feast-maker must listen for the sizzle and smell the aroma of the caramelization judging for a toasty crust, instead of burnt rice —now you see why I took it as high praise when feasters came back for seconds requesting more of the crusty part of the rice.

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As the Boar sees it, paella is a celebration of tradition, local ingredients, and Spanish cooking techniques caramelized on an open fire in a uniquely designed vessel beckoning with a Cleopatra-like seduction.

Feast on the crust of life, my friend.

Paella and Sangria –“the moment of feast”

October 13, 2014 by Convivial Boar Leave a Comment

As nightfall erases a lingering… red… summer… sunset on the lake shore, I —lounging in a lawn chair, the dark fruity notes of a final glass of Sangria tickling my tongue— take the first puff of a well-rolled, moist cigar and smile knowingly at the still-glowing embers of a feast-giving fire. Glowing too are the embers of satiated feasters fueled with the knowledge of a moment seized… devoured…savored…

For the past several years, our extended family has gathered in late July for a week on Lake Table Rock near Branson, Missouri. Among the many activities of the week, feasting —and feast-making—are my priority. This year we embarked upon paella and sangria.

In an unusual turn, the weather —normally sweltering and oppressive—was cool and delightful: the type of weather that begs for outdoor cooking and celebration. This made for a spirited Convivial Boar —and a feast prepared with spirit is like no other. Embracing the moment, we moved the feast and feast-making outside by the lake.

Family members began trickling out nearly as soon as the first flames flickered from the grill. Lawn chairs were erected and camp benches moved creating the feel of an amphitheater around the grill. Feasters were greeted with sangria (a special one for younger feasters to be discussed in a later post) and slices of pineapple and kiwi. As jazzy tunes filled the air (from my Father’s Day gift, a bluetooth speaker), Charlie, my sous feast-maker of the day, and I orchestrated a paella as the audience of feasters exclaimed amazement and joy with the addition of each new ingredient —working themselves into quite a frenzy before it was complete.

The anticipation was palatable as I placed a cloth towel over the paella and set it on a rack well above the fire to let it rest before serving. Sangrias refreshed and paella rested, the feasters crowded the grill for the unveiling, as though we had not watched every step of its creation. Then, it appeared again, like a dear old friend after an absence. With a pause for photographs and exclamations, we served the paella straight from the pan.

Relaxed, joyous conversation, interrupted often by belly-laughter, filled the evening. A steady wave of feasters re-visited the pan clamoring, “I want more of that crusty rice part.” Though they didn’t know it, I took those requests as high praise (We will learn why in a later post). I also hold dear the words of my young niece, “that was the best pie-lay-la I ever had” —perhaps, the most sincere words ever uttered.

As the evening faded and feasters departed, an urge persisted to extend the moment, make it last longer —for we had shared a special moment of feast and didn’t want it to end. But as with all moments —good and bad—it was overcome by the next. Only not all moments are stamped in our memories like the moment of a feast.

Over the next few posts, we will delve into the history of paella along with the ingredients and techniques used in making paella, but remember our purpose is not replication. Rather, my friend, we are on a more fulfilling quest to understand feasting and feast-making.

Savor the moment of feast, my friend.

Let it sit a spell…

September 28, 2014 by Convivial Boar 3 Comments

My grandfather was a skilled carpenter, who could expertly build anything from furniture to an entire house. His creations are celebrated and treasured. He earned his living by understanding materials, design and craftsmanship. When his living was earned, he designed and built himself a porch rocker —and sat down in it for thirty years. Sociably, he placed the rocker in his front yard where he could visit neighbors, pet bird-dogs, watch cars pass by, and nap. He ended each visit by asking, “what’s your hurry?”

That’s the well-simmered stock from which I’m made.

So, when the preparation of a feast requires that a creation sit or simmer for a spell, it comes natural to me. Indeed, I relish these moments —provides time for a beverage —maybe a cigar or pipe —maybe a good book —or perhaps, a raucous story or two.

Feast-Making is a deliberate and focused undertaking that cannot be rushed or hurried. Here are three Convivial Boar Feast-Making Rules that should help:

Feast-Making Rule #1: Create in leisure

Feasters are more at ease if the Feast-Maker is relaxed and having fun. If the Feast-Maker appears frazzled and working too hard, the feasters will likely feel some guilt. But, if the Feast-Maker is lounging in a lawn chair clutching a Smokehouse Bloody Mary singing refrains from an Irish Folk song, the feasters will eagerly join. Feast-Makers must operate as Benjamin Franklin described the French people: “accomplish much while appearing to do little.”

Feast-Making Rule #2: Time matters not

A feast occurs when it occurs. The Feast-Maker, like any other artist, cannot be beholden to an arbitrary schedule of completion. This rule serves two purposes: it helps with Rule #1 (the lack of a deadline can make the most untimely of people appear timely); and it builds anticipation in the feasters (the Feast-Maker’s creations are more readily devoured and celebrated by a ravenous crowd of feasters who have been properly teased by the aromas than by feasters who show up at an appointed time to partake of promptly prepared dishes).

Note on Rule #2: There is a fine line between teasing and torturing when it comes to feasting. Use samples and cocktails to tame the feasters—many a feaster will look back at the sampling as the best part of the feast.

pictured is a feaster who regularly shows up early to help

Feast-Making Rule #3: It begins for each anew

The creation of the feast is part of the feast. For each feaster, the feast begins when they arrive. Just as Rule #2 abolished the notion of a particular end time for the feast-maker, this rule abolishes any particular start time for the feasters. Early feasters become assistants to the Feast-Maker and help in the creation —which heightens their anticipation and joy (not to mention, they are first in line for samples). Communications about my feasts, typically say something like, “I plan to start creating the feast around…join as early as you desire.” In my experience, this rule encourages feasters to arrive early, eager to help which enhances the Convivial Boar’s leisurely demeanor. And of course, the late-arriving feasters have the pleasure of joining a party in full-swing.

What’s your hurry, my friend, let it sit a spell.

Saucy legs, cornbread and grass

September 22, 2014 by Convivial Boar 2 Comments

Saucy Snout kicked off its first tailgate event of the season at the Arkansas v. Northern Illinois game this past weekend. The Convivial Boar gives a shout out to two young snouts, Alex and Christian, who helped bring this feast together.

The Hogs rooted up another opponent! The featured dish for this feast celebrated our renewed running game, and helper Alex matched the sauces with the running backs: Collins —spicy; Williams —tangy; and Marshall —sweet. And the opening kickoff validated Alex’s selections because it was “s-w-e-e-t!!”

Speaking of exciting moments, Saucy Snout was visited by a live pig prompting one fun-loving snout to heckle from behind the Expedition Bar, “we can put that on the smoker.” Of course, that comment opened up the whole “should you eat your mascot on game day” debate. But that’s a post for another time…

Thanks to connections (my father-in-law) the Convivial Boar’s party had great seats for the game and a bit of street theatre as well. A nearby fan began desperately yelling at the concessionaires (who were more than fifty rows from her), “W-a-t-e-r! W-a-t-e-r! W-a-t-e-r!” —as though she had just walked across a scorching desert (and couldn’t muster the few steps to the concession stand). No response.

Undaunted, she continued her throat-crackling mantra each time a backpack-burdened young man popped out anywhere in the stadium. Alas, her pleas were denied as the concessionaires, rather inconsiderately, peddled their goods to other fans (the ones they could actually see and hear).

But I’m happy to report that her pleas did not go unrequited. Another fan, sitting a few rows below her, heard her cries and summoning the same throaty tones of desperation yelled, “W-h-i-s-k-e-y! W-h-i-s-k-e-y! W-h-i-s-k-e-y!”

Nothing like being at the game, my friend…

Below is a reproduction of the email invite for the Saucy Snout tailgate event which includes the plan for our feast.

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Fellow Snouts,

It is time to get saucy again! That’s right Big-Jan and the Convivial Boar present another edition of Saucy Snout tailgating. We will begin our festivities around noon and continue right up until we panic that we might miss kickoff —of course, our panic response may be a bit impaired if we congregate around the Expedition Bar in which case…

The dry spell is over! The dry spell is over!

After two years without football, we appear to be playing again! So far our team has been invited to play three times and has shown up each time —it did clock out early in the first game but in its defense (something that would have come in handy during that game), we had just made the trip to hell and back to retrieve our snowball… (we left bread crumbs for Nichols State to follow the next week). And then in week three, our team strolled over the Red Raiders with relative comfort —at least that’s Brandon Allen’s story, somebody get that boy a lawn chair.

Time to get our snout saucy again, bar’s open!

Southern Comfort

While the full Expedition Bar will be in action, our focus this week will be on Southern Comfort. It just seems to fit the moment…

In the mid-1800’s (just before Petrino’s ill-fated motorcycle ride), a creative mixologist named M. W. Heron (same ilk as Big-Jan) was asked to improve the taste of stale barrels of whiskey that had been left afloat too long (not unlike the request Long made of Bielema). Heron dressed the whiskey up with fruit and spice (think gray anthracite uniforms). He named the drink “Cuffs & Buttons” in response to another popular drink of the day “White Ties & Tails” —eerily similar to the name of the new documentary about the first couple of Razorback football, “White Windbreaker & Tail.”

Ahh, the mysteries of life… revealed through Southern Comfort. Tune in Saturday for more revelations…

First Course: Medley of Smoked Sausage

In moments of success, it is important to remember the moments that went before. In our case, the grinder. Enjoy the sausage. Pairs well with regret —also known as tequila.

Second Course: Saucy Legs, Cornbread and Grass

I don’t know if anyone else noticed, but our running game seems to be improved this year —or maybe that was Wisconsin the announcer wasn’t quite sure.

Either way, it is the inspiration for our main course. Envision smoked chicken legs adorned with a trio of sauces (in celebration of our three running backs) nestled behind a big slab of smoked cornbread (in honor of our corn-fed boys up front) atop a field of citrus cole slaw.

Now that’s Southern Comfort —right Brandon?

Third Course: Cuffs & Buttons on a Pineapple

The third course is a celebration of the sweet feeling of winning again. It will feature smoked pineapple brushed with a Southern Comfort glaze.

Enjoy the sweet moments of life, my friend.

A feast needs a story…

September 5, 2014 by Convivial Boar 1 Comment

I attribute much of my success as a Feast-Maker to focusing on the experience of creating the feast —instead of the end result. Many of the dishes that I prepare require hands-on, slow processes. Indeed, I shun the “quick-and-easy” in favor of the long-and-arduous, leaving my friends a bit puzzled.

During many a feast, someone will suggest, “I know a quicker way to do that…”, “you can buy that sauce already made and you can’t tell the difference,” or “…I can’t believe you don’t know about this product it would save you so much time.” Of course, as a Feast-Maker my desire is for the feasters to commune with their ideas and celebrate the moment of the feast, so instead of assaulting the helpful feaster with the lecture that rises like a vortex in my brain, I typically respond, “hmmm, isn’t that interesting.”

Today, we get the lecture!

Gumbo is great fodder for a feast and a good example for our discussion. As any of my three children could tell us before they reached the age of three, for Gumbo, the roux is everything. For me, making a roux is nearly a religious ceremony (probably Catholic since I imbibe quite a bit during the ceremony).

I begin with oil and flour and slowly coax it into the color of a copper penny (or a bit darker if the mood strikes, or more likely, I want another beer). I’ve been known to dance with a roux for hours celebrating each new shade of its development until it reaches that pinnacle moment when “I” declare, “it is done.” What a powerful moment! I (the creator) pronounce this roux (the creation) as a new completed thing. And while similar ones have come before and will come again, this roux is unique and will only live in this moment. Through this roux, our gumbo may bind together and rouse festive celebration in our brothers and sisters. Roux-Making Day is a romantic time to be cherished.

Sadly, I have come to realize that not everyone is familiar with the celebration of Roux-Making Day (and other joyous moments in feast- making) and know not what they do, when they suggest, “I bought a roux in a jar for my last gumbo and couldn’t tell the difference.”

First, I must applaud their bravery in making such a self-revealing admission (I’m far too self-conscious to disclose that I have so poorly developed taste that I cannot tell the difference in a mass-produced, preservative-filled substance and a unique creation that was given life just for this one moment of gumbo). Let us raise our glasses and toast to those brave (taste-challenged) souls: “may you take heart in celebration of the bland until you discover nuance and flavor. Here! Here!”

Let’s suppose now that we have an entire feast of those brave (taste-challenged) souls who have never celebrated or even heard of Roux-Making Day —brace yourself, my friend, I hear it happens. Assume that nobody at the feast can tell the difference. Should you as the Feast-Maker simply open a jar? “Hmmm, wouldn’t that be interesting?”

{Spoiler Alert: the answer is “NO!”}

Dancing with a roux brings me joy —it makes me happy. And I believe the emotions of the Feast-Maker are reflected in the creations —nothing binds a gumbo like a well-romanced roux. Naturally, like all romance, it is better to take your time. A jar simply appears. No beginning. No declaration of creation. Just twist and dump. Try as I might (or might not), I cannot form a meaningful and fulfilling relationship on such a cheap, unromantic, commercial basis. For the Convivial Boar, without the romance of Roux-Making Day there shall be no gumbo!

Perhaps, the single biggest problem with roux-in-a-jar (and the like) is that it has no story. Food for a feast must have a story! Feast-making is an art. Suppose an artist unveils a painting and when asked about his inspiration for the work (the story), he responds, “well, I set out to paint a beautiful sunrise that I witnessed but when I was at the store I saw this one that is nearly as good —many may think just as good.” Would we view his painting the same?

For a proper feast, the feasters must feel as though they are part of a special moment —one orchestrated solely for their celebration. These special moments are only possible if the Feast-Maker pours himself into the creation and gives it a story.

Give your feast a story, my friend.

Saucy Snout Tailgating

September 5, 2014 by Convivial Boar Leave a Comment

We are in the midst of football season again and that means tailgate feasts! The Convivial Boar is a Razorback fan —go figure—which among other things means that the joy of a game often peaks just before kickoff. At home games, the Boar joins forces with a good friend to present Saucy Snout tailgating.

Just to whet our appetite, below is the tailgate invite for the 2013 Arkansas vs. Texas A&M game —featuring a certain player that seems to have his finger in everything these days.

Greetings! My Snouty Friends.

We invite you to another edition of Saucy Snout tailgating to savor the moments (and by moments I mean hours) before the ball is first struck by one’s foot…and then, well we know what happens then…

Course I –“smoked avocado bruschetta”

In the off-season, we decided to up our game (we thought that was the general mood in the vicinity of Fayetteville) so we
decided to employ a more coordinated and disciplined approach to tailgating fare. To that end, we are now offering a menu complete with food and drink pairings. But, do not fear, in addition to the suggested drink pairings, the Expedition Bar will be open.

Our first course, which will be served around noon, will feature smoked avocado bruschetta paired with champagne (sparkling grape juice for the younger snouts)— we share Johnny Football’s zeal for the green-stuff and finer things in life.

Course II –“skewered duck”

Several people have asked me over this past weekend, “Did we lose to Rutgers?” It seems, for some odd reason, that many folks thought we had won. Alas, the game outlasted our zeal, and I must sadly report that if you are the sort of person that looks only to the final score, then you will see it as a loss. But, there is a bigger story at play.

I’ve noticed over the past few years that the AFLAC Duck is running short of trivia material. Imagine ten years from now, an older but still fairly spry duck marches across the screen and the following question appears: “What SEC team had the Scarlet Knight’s Sword stuck up its ass two years in a row?” And, the wise-and-oh-so-clever commentator (you know the one) adds, “Hint: by ass I mean ham,” and then snorts a few times for good measure.

So, you see the Duck won and will be skewered with a pepper in our second course and paired with a variety of tequila shots or a nice margarita on the rocks (I always think of tequila when I see that duck). (younger snout pairing: orange juice).

Course III –“smoke’n-snappy balls”

I do want to give a shout-out to our center, Travis Swanson (anybody else recall a center being the most celebrated player on the team?). Apparently, he’s so good in fact and snaps the ball with such force, the quarterback can’t catch the snaps (also, an odd situation). Third Course: smoke’n-snappy balls (think, spicy venison meatballs slathered in a smoky barbecue sauce and wrapped in bacon) paired with a chilled, brown New Castle beer. (younger snout pairing: root beer).

Course IV –“Bielema’cue sandwich”

And now, in the spirit of Johnny Football, our signature course:

Bielema’cue Sandwich: spice-rubbed smoked pork loin with a bold slab (possibly a bit smelly) of Wisconsin cheddar cheese served topless (bun showing on bottom) and scantily dressed with a drizzle of truffle oil. Drink pairing: Moscow Mule: vodka, ginger beer and lime. (younger snout pairing: fruit punch)

Course V –“#karma apples”
I can’t finish without addressing a disturbing situation –silly really, but it has garnered some attention. Last season, I attempted a dessert on the smoker (oh there were the naysayers and those who secretly wished it to flop). It was edible, some even said “good.” Even still, I was not proud of it. We can do better. But, the saddest most cruel thing happened a few minutes later when Celebrity Chef Bobby Flay seemingly received word of my smoky mediocrity and floated up a hot-air balloon for all to see with the following printed in bold letters: #karma. Oh the pain, it hurts still. Undaunted, however, I will again attempt to finish strong with a smoked dessert.

Final course –#karma Apples: smoked apple crumble braised in a hard apple cider. Take that Flay…

Here’s to another season of tailgating, my friend…and hopefully a little football too.

Boars Know Feasts…

August 31, 2014 by Convivial Boar Leave a Comment

Welcome! As this is our first post, let’s explore the origins and purposes of feasting —including the intertwining of feasts, philosophy and boars–and wallow a bit in the nature of our quest.

First, a note or two about our guide…

Boars have a long and sordid history with feasts. In the early years (medieval times) Boars were known as the “king” of the forest and wielded their power in a ferocious and menacing manner. Men feared the boar as an evil creature. Indeed, this reputation caused many a boar to lose their head —quite literally, for the first dish served at many Roman feasts was a Boar’s head.

Perhaps you’ve heard of the Boar’s Head Feast which originated in the dining hall at Queen’s College in Oxford, England around 1340. Legend holds that a scholar, studying a book of Aristotle on his way to the Midnight Mass, was attacked by a less-than-convivial wild boar. The scholar triumphed by cramming his philosophy book down the throat of the boar. The Boar’s Head Feast was held in celebration of man’s triumph over the boar.

But from the moment philosophy was introduced (rather forcefully) to the boar a slow and steady progression began. And now, just think, only a few hundred years later, a much more refined and wise boar presents as our guide to the philosophy and celebration of feasts —ahhh, the ironies of life…you just can’t make this stuff up.

What is a feast?

According to dictionaries, a feast is a large meal typically prepared in celebration of something. When used as a verb feast means to eat and drink sumptuously. And as delightful as those definitions are, allow me to suggest a more liberating view.

For our purposes, let’s focus on the experience of any celebrated and savored moment ushered in by food and drink. Using this lens, a feast need not be large —one or two feasters can be plenty. The food need not be elaborate (though it can), for one unique, storied creation will suffice. Nor, must it be an accepted holiday or particular celebration —any moment will do and is often the best.

For you see, my friend, Marrow & Nectar is not simply the marriage of food and drink…it is the celebration of devouring life’s moments and savoring their essence.

Our Quest…

Our quest is to appreciate the art of feasts and feast-making and the power that unique creations can have on an otherwise ordinary moment. Along our path, there will be feasts! We will chop, stir, smoke, sauté and whisk our way at times. We will navigate through study of ingredients, techniques and inspired dishes.

Occasionally, we will seek help from experience-tested guides. But our path is not on the straight and narrow, for it meanders, and we must stroll through philosophical wisdom, humorous anecdotes, historical meanings and musings of the moment. Oh, and don’t worry about those ferocious and menacing boars, the ones we encounter will likely be of the convivial sort—but let’s arm ourselves with a philosophy book just in case.

Much like the creations and moments we will celebrate, what makes our quest unique is the lack of any formulaic rigidity and our knowledge that it belongs only to us in this moment.

Shall we begin, my friend?