HOGS FOR THE CAUSE

This past weekend, over 80 teams of chefs, backyard BBQ-ers, and general pork enthusiasts gathered at City Park to take part in Hogs for the Cause. The event drew in nearly 15,000 people and raised over $250,000 for the treatment of pediatric brain cancer. More information on the event and the charity can be found here.

Pictured Above:

Top: The sign marking the entrance to the event. 

Center Left & Right: On Friday night, $5 got you in the gate while the teams started their smokers and put the finishing touches on their booths. These hog heads (left) were proudly displayed at Whole Hog Cafe’s booth (right).

Bottom Left: “Try the pig tail curry! It’ll change your life!” Ok, sure, it was good, but the only life changing event was that I can now say I’ve eaten pig tails. Chewy skin, a thick layer of fat, and a few morsels of stringy, flavorful meat stretched around a knuckle of bone - not my new favorite cut of meat, but worth trying if the opportunity presents itself. 

Bottom Middle: In addition to the food, the event’s two stages hosted performances by Rebirth Brass Band, Robert Randolph and the Family Band, The Revivalists, and others. Beer was provided by NOLA Brewing, and a number of vendors sold non-pork centric foods.

Bottom Right: In honor of the still defunct Hubigs, one team sold sweetly glazed fried pies stuffed with a mixture of smoked pork and apples. 

Fermentation failure!

Around the same time I made the ginger beer, I attempted a simple rice wine recipe based off the one in the Chinatown issue of Lucky Peach. At the time of bottling, the “rice wine” milky white and sour, and I was afraid it had skipped a step and went straight to vinegar. I had read that most rice wines are aged after bottling, with the flavor mellowing and improving over time, so I gave it a chance.

After the success of the ginger beer, I thought I’d open one of the bottles to see if it had gotten any better. The instant the bottle opener bit, the cap shot off and the entire contents of the bottle spewed onto the counter and floor. I moved outside and captured the second attempt in the video above.

Oh well…

Fermentation success!

The ginger beer I made a few months ago has been sitting in a growler in the back of the fridge undisturbed for quite a while. It was pretty funky at first, but with time, the flavor has improved, it has clarified a bit, and it has developed a nice carbonation level. 

The next step is to mix up a Dark ‘n Stormy!

Fermentation success!
The ginger beer I made a few months ago has been sitting in a growler in the back of the fridge undisturbed for quite a while. It was pretty funky at first, but with time, the flavor has improved, it has clarified a bit, and it has developed a nice carbonation level. 
The next step is to mix up a Dark ‘n Stormy! High-res

Scenes from the Menorcan Heritage Festival in St. Augustine, Florida.

Top: Sausage Pilau. If it looks like jambalaya to you, well, that’s because it’s pretty damn close. The biggest difference is the distinct flavoring from the Datil pepper, which is exclusive to the St. Augustine area and is the key ingredient to many Menorcan dishes.

Middle Left: Mike Usina demonstrates the many steps that go into making making a mullet net. From the lead weights that line the bottom to the cow’s horn at the top, his nets are entirely made by hand.

Middle Right: Members of the original Menorcan families pinned photos of family members to a small mullet net displayed in the center of the courtyard of the Llambias House. 

Bottom: A piece of cow horn tops one of Mike Usina’s handmade nets. This particular net, which took over 80-hours to make, is being raffled off, with the proceeds going to support the Menorcan Cultural Society.

Sausage Pilau
2col
Mike Usina demonstrates the steps involved in his hand-made mullet nets.

At the center of the courtyard, members of the original Menorcan families pinned photos of loved ones to a small mullet net.
One of Mike Usina's hand made mullet nets, which took over 80-hours of work, was auctioned off with proceeds going to the Menorcan Cultural Society.
2col

Hey Garden & Gun (or Bon Appetit, Lucky PeachImbibe, Kinfolk, etc.),

These days, it must be damn near impossible finding people with mid-range digital cameras, a taste for fine food & strong drinks, a reverence for community & culture, and a thirst for travel & adventure. It’s a wonder you’re able to fill your pages in spite of the dearth of content producers modern society has yielded.

It is in this regard that I offer you my services. Though strenuous, I would make the sacrifice of exploring culturally rich locations, immersing myself in up-and-coming food scenes, and sampling regional cuisines & delicacies, all with camera in tow. When you inevitably decide to accept my offer, you can contact me here.

You’re welcome,

Zack

Oysters at The Walrus and the Carpenter in Ballard, WA.
2col Bartender's Handshake at The Belmont in Charleston, SC.
2col 2col
The Mustache Ride at the Walrus and the Carpenter in Ballard, WA.
2col 2col

Ted Peter’s Famous Smoked Fish

St. Petersburg, Florida

While living in Louisiana, it seemed that every other conversation revolved around food. The locals were always curious how I liked the regional fare; if I liked alligator, if I sucked the heads of crawfish, or if the food was too spicy (answers: of course, yup, and “Hah, pass the Crystal”). While Southeast Louisiana has been able to maintain its way of life with more passion and pride than just about any other region in the US, Florida, on the whole, has surrendered to the snowbirds and the settlers, with each new wave looking for the convenient and familiar. While I can’t claim to hail from one of the Minorcan families that settled St. Augustine, or from one of the many Cracker families that settled the interior of the state, my family has always made it a point to learn about and to respect our state’s rich history.

Every once and a while, conversations would turn to Floridian foods. While Pilau (pronounced per-loo) was always an easy sell with its similarity jambalaya, and a variety of fried, stewed, and smothered shellfish, reptiles, and amphibians usually struck resonant chords with Louisianans, there was one thing that was met with instant dismissal from several cajuns and coonasses. Smoked mullet.

The usual responses were “Mullet’s a trash fish.” or “That’s bait!” Sure, mullet make good bait, but it’s also delicious. With flaky, flavorful meat that’s nowhere as fishy as sardines, the smoked fillets are considered a local delicacy. And smoked mullet dip? Mmmmm…

That brings us to Ted Peters. We stumbled on the place while driving back from visiting family in the Tampa area, cutting through St. Petersburg on our way out. With a small outdoor bar and a simple smokehouse, Ted Peters offered four types of smoked fish and little more. They started over 50 years ago with only mullet, but have since added mackerel, mahi mahi (known locally as dolphin), and salmon. The bar offers fillets with sides of cole slaw and frosty mugs of beer. Old men gather on wooden stools at the bar while a line steadily flowed through the take-out counter in the smokehouse. 

If you’re ever in the area, pick up a few fillets and enjoy an old Florida delicacy. 

2col