Juicing for Carnivores
It’s time to cut the crap. We all know the truth but are afraid to share it.
Vegetable juice sucks. Fresh-pressed, raw, organic, vegan—whatever. It’s a poor source of nutrients, is stripped of fiber and protein, and it simply tastes bad. Let’s not even get started on drinking those things as part of a cleanse; drinking straight kale juice for 10 days is an idiotic way to spend $800.
Instead of drinking garden sludge, we here at Hair of the Dog advocate for a more thorough allotment of calories. We’d like to take a cue from old-school French cooks and make juice that really counts.
That’s right, folks, it’s time to start juicing like the carnivores we are. A week long meat juice bender is just the ticket when you’re recovering from a month of eating only salad. Your body needs the protein and your mind needs the carnal lust. Plus, it’s an easy way to use up all those extra free-range meat scraps you’ve got crowding your kitchen.
To start, we’ve developed five juices you can deploy throughout the day to curb cravings for beets and carrots.
Lean Machine: This thin juice is a great way to ease into a day of meat juicing. It is low-fat and mostly water; yet it also contains all the essential nutrients present in the raw beef.
To prepare: Take two raw filet mignons (or 8 ounces raw beef tenderloin) and cut into 1-inch cubes. Place cubes in the freezer for 10 minutes to firm up. Transfer beef to a food processor and pulse until roughly ground. Scoop the ground meet into a cheesecloth-lined strainer and sprinkle with salt. Twist the corners of the cheesecloth and squeeze to extract all of the juice inside. Drink. Freeze the remaining meat bits to use later in a smoothie or hamburger.
Blood of Babes: For our breakfast juice, we wanted to create an elixir that was filling and nutrient-dense, but not too rich.
To prepare: Take a trip to your nearest sheep farm. Ask nicely for some freshly slaughtered lamb’s blood. Run home and dump 1 cup lamb’s blood into a blender. Add 1/2 cup water (if you’re still full from the lean machine) or 1/2 cup whole milk (if you’re not). Blend until any residual coagulated blood has been smoothed out and incorporated into the mix. Drink.
Poultry Perfection: For lunch, take some swigs of this medium-rich blonde colored juice. We’ve decided to briefly poach the chicken first (for safety’s sake), but if you’re more hardcore than that, you can use raw flesh instead.
To prepare: Place one bone-in, skin-on chicken thigh and one bone-in skin-on split chicken breast (cut in half) into a pot of simmering water or stock. Cook until the outside just turns white, about 5 minutes. Remove the chicken and let cool. Once cool, remove the bones, keeping the skin intact. Save the bones for later. Shove the poached chicken into a juicer; extract juice. Drink.
Lap of Luxury: Dinner isn’t the time for a sissy juice. We’ve combined pork cheek meat, lardo, and foie gras (sourced outside of California, of course) for an unctuous drink that is truly luxurious.
To prepare: First, press 4 ounces of pork cheek meat through juicer. Add this juice to the blender along with 4 ounces of lardo and 2 ounces of foie gras. Blend until smooth. Drink like nobody’s watching.
Bone Solid: End your day with straight calcium. Through a straw.
To prepare: Walk over to your nearest butcher and ask nicely for extra pork, beef, duck, or chicken bones. They’ll likely have some sitting in a corner somewhere. Bring home. In a Blendtec, combine about 1 pound of the foraged bones with the remaining chicken bones from lunch. Blitz in Blendtec. Strain bone slurry through cheesecloth into a big ass glass. Top with a dollop of cream, if you must.
Labor Day Hamburgers
National cookout day, a.k.a Labor Day, is only a few days away. And while some may encourage a day of reflection on the inability of low-wage workers to unionize without striking, we say: “F— McDonald’s! Grill, baby, grill!” We here at Hair of the Dog hope to hear all of you fumbling in your garages for your Smokey Joes or crappy knock-off grills to get ready for the big day.
But once you’ve dug out your grill and scraped away all that charcoal and chicken grease still stuck to the bottom air vent, what are you gonna cook on it? We recommend hamburgers, made from scratch.
1 bale organic, non-GMO wheat, preferably sourced from a farm that specializes in ancient grains
1 cow, raised on a free-range ranch, fed only organic grass, and rubbed with coconut oil once a day
1 batch sourdough starter, made 2 weeks ago by harvesting wild yeasts from the air into a hand-milled flour and water slurry, 100% hydration
Salt, preferably harvested from your own sweat (you can also use salt harvested from your nearest ocean or other body of salt water)
Tellicherry peppercorns, dried on a plot at the top of the East Bay hills (where the weather is hottest)
Part 1: The buns
1. First, grind your wheat into flour using your hand crank mill. You’ll probably have more flour than you need, but you can keep the extra 20 pounds in your basement chest freezer. Be sure to leave room for extra cow.
2. Meanwhile, have a friend milk the cow. Let the cream separate off the top of the milk. Collect the cream in a butter churner and reserve the milk. Have the friend churn the cream into butter. Let it rest at room temperature while you prepare the rest of the bread dough.
3. Combine 450 grams of the hand-milled flour with a cup of raw milk in a stand mixer. If you have access to fresh-from-the-chicken eggs, you can add an egg or two as well. Beat the mixer until it is well-combined. Add a couple of globs of sourdough and continue to beat the mixture until it looks homogenous.
4. Gradually add about 1/2 cup of freshly churned butter to the dough, beating well in between each addition. Once the butter is mixed in, let the dough rest for 20 minutes. Add a big pinch of salt. Knead for 15 minutes or so, until the dough can stretch from one end of the kitchen to the other.
5. Let the dough rise until doubled in bulk, and then shape into rolls. Let the shaped rolls double in bulk and then bake in a 375 degree oven until golden brown and cooked through.
Part 2: The burgers
1. Now that you’ve gotten milk from the cow, you can slaughter it. You’ll want to extensively research the most human way to offing the beast, but the final method is up to you and your conscience. Once you’ve turned your cow into beef, remove the guts, cut the carcass into primals, and reserve the fattiest part of the chuck for your burgers. The rest of the meat can go into your chest freezer next to the flour (be sure to wrap it well).
2. Using a hand grinder (none of that electric shit, please), turn the chuck into hamburger meat. If there doesn’t appear to be enough fat in the meat, add some solid fat chunks from along the cow’s stomach to the grinder. You’re looking for about 70% meat, 30% fat.
3. VERY GENTLY, form the ground beef into 1/3 pound patties. Press the meat together just enough to form solid patties, but not enough to form hockey pucks. If you’ve ever grilled a decent burger, you know what to do. Using your thumb, make a circular depression 1 inch in diameter in the center of each patty. Now they’ll look like round bialys.
4. Light a chimney of real lump hardwood charcoal in your chimney charcoal starter. Don’t have one? You can’t grill. Lighter fluid is for posers. Similarly, gas grills are for no-nothing idiot boomers. You can’t make a real burger on a gas grill.
5. Once the coals are covered in white ash, transfer them to the grill, making a huge pile on one side of the grill (called SUPER HEATING). Cover the grill and let it heat up for 5 minutes or so. Meanwhile, heavily season your burgers with salt and freshly ground pepper.
6. Grease the grill with some leftover beef fat. Place burgers on the SUPER HEATED side of the grill. Cook, flipping every 3 seconds, until the outside is pleasantly charred and the inside is still bloody.
7. Place burgers on freshly baked buns (split in half, duh). Don’t add cheese, ketchup, mustard, or god forbid mayonnaise. Likewise, keep that bunny food away from the meat. No lettuce, tomato, or onion allowed.
8. Eat outside with juice dripping down your arms and legs, caveman-style.
Summer is ending. Sure, the days of pickling watermelon rinds and prancing naked through meadows harvesting strawberries might be waning, but autumn is a fruitful season too. It brings with it a veritable jackpot of holidays, which, though a lovely time, can put a bit of a strain on your kitchen. Thankfully, we’ve got all your bases covered in one big, swell, meaty dish.
Forget the turkey, forget the turducken, even. If you’re only going to give your family three birds to show you care, you might as well be starving them. Because, as we all know, the only way to measure love is by the size of a meat pile.
Without further ado, your new holiday staple:
1 small pony
1 baby dolphin
1 cornish game hen
sage for garnish
1. Debone all the animals.
2. Stuff the camel inside the elephant, buffalo inside the camel, ostrich inside the buffalo, pony inside the ostrich, baby dolphin inside the pony, and so on.
3. Braise for 9 hours, turning occasionally.
4. When finished, you’ll be left with the perfect storm of meat drippings in the pan. Blend the liquid with 14 lbs. of cultured butter and the tears of a baby lemur. Makes a lovely, savory sauce.
5. Garnish with fresh sage. Best with a young, dry sauvignon blanc. If everyone is a bit slow getting to the table (kids! amirite???) the best way to keep the Elephamelbuffospodophiturkaboodgaremornigerfishincleflat warm is to lay on it. Either take off all your clothes first, or be sure to wring the golden grease from you clothes afterwards. In my family, we have a lottery to see who gets the grease off grandma’s sweater after she takes a nap on it.
*If it’s a special occasion, put everything inside of a whale. Serve warm with a lovely beurre blanc.
Fauxnut CroNOT Cronuts
Okay, we get it. Fried puff pastry tastes fucking awesome. It tastes even better filled with artisanal pastry cream and sprinkled with gold leaf harvested from mines in the depths of the central African jungle.
But do you really want it this bad?
We didn’t think so. Here at Hair of the Dog, we’ll do you a favor and tell you how to one-up Dominique Ansel and make your own PERMANENT buttery creation.
Fauxnut CroNOT Cronuts
Makes 11 fauxnuts for eating and one for keeping on the shelf
Note: Described by many as a one-third croissant, one-third doughnut, one-third display item — this pastry tchotchke by the Hair of the Dog team is about to take the world by storm. After its launch on August 14, 2013, Fauxnut CroNOT Cronut (TM) fans are expected to span the world from Berlin to Singapore, making it the most viral faux dessert item to date.
Please sample the Fauxnut CroNOT Cronuts (TM) immediately as they have a short shelf life. And if you do cut, please use a serrated knife, so as not to crush the layers. Never refrigerate these items as the humidity from the refrigerator will cause them to sweat and collapse.
For the dough
3/4 cups milk, warmed
1 tablespoon active dry yeast
1/3 cup sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (divided)
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup butter, room temperature
1 box latex casting kit
1 box liquid quick-drying silicone
1. Stir together milk and yeast in large bowl. Stir in eggs, sugar, and vanilla. Mix well. Sift in one cup of flour and the salt. Mix lightly. Gradually add another 2 1/4 cups of flour. Stir to combine and then knead until smooth and elastic, about 5 to 7 minutes. Wipe sweat from brow.
2. Transfer dough to bowl, cover with plastic, and refrigerate for 30 minutes.
3. While the dough is chilling, beat the butter with the remaining 1/4 cup flour using the paddle attachment of a stand mixer until smooth, about 2 minutes.
4. Once the dough is chilled, transfer it to a lightly floured work surface. Get out your ruler. Roll dough into a 13×18-inch rectangle, 1/4 inch thick. DON’T DEVIATE FROM THESE MEASUREMENTS. Spread the butter-flour mixture evenly over the dough. Lick fingers.
5. Remember letters? Out of paper? Fold the dough into thirds as you would fold a real letter to your grandma. Cover the dough in plastic wrap and put back in refrigerator for another 30 minutes. Do a little yoga.
6. After dough is firm again, return it to the lightly floured counter. Unwrap with the open sides to the left and right. Roll out and readjust shape into rectangle. Fold left third towards middle, followed by right third. After folding, cover with plastic wrap and put back in refrigerator for another 30 minutes. Watch an episode of Bob’s Burgers.
7. Roll, fold, and refrigerate dough two more times, so you’ve done it a total of four times. Cover and refrigerate for another hour, or overnight.
8. Have a stiff drink. We recommend 5 swigs of whiskey.
9. Pull dough from the refrigerator and roll it out 1 1/2 inches thick. Use a biscuit cutter, glass, or cocktail shaker to cut the dough into rounds. They’ll look like biscuits. Find a super small round object to cut out holes in the center.
10. In deep fryer, heat a couple inches of oil to around 350° F, or until hot but not smoking (a scrap of dough should sizzle when you drop it in). Take a deep breath and add a couple of dough rounds. DON’T CROWD THE PAN. YOU’LL REGRET IT. Flip as necessary until deep golden, then transfer to baking sheet lined with paper towel.
11. Once all the dough has been fried and cooled, eat 11 of the fauxnuts. You’re welcome to spread whatever the fuck you want on them. Clean out the fridge and eat some fried dough while you’re at it.
12. Next, take out your latex mold kit. Pour the liquid latex over the remaining fauxnut. Let dry overnight.
13. The next day, cut a thin line along the side of the mold and remove the fauxnut. Eat if you dare.
14. Pour liquid silicone inside mold and let dry overnight.
15. On the third day, the the mold will bring forth a permanent cronut: plastic pastry donuts bearing seed according to their kinds and more donuts bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds. And Ansel saw that it was good.
Doritos Locos Tacos
At least one of us here at Hair of the Dog has a long history with Taco Bell.
What started as occasional treats as a kid turned into a full-fledged seven-layer burritos obsession by age 20. Fourth meal was a way of life—$1.99 can go a long way on a 2am shoestring budget, even when the craving is chemically induced.
But after far too many cheap meat hangovers, this intrepid reporter left Taco Bell behind. This plan to completely eschew the fast food chain for its slow food cousins worked just fine until the launch of the ultimate stoner fantasy: tacos made with Doritos-laced shells. You may know them as limited-edition Doritos Locos Tacos (TM), but this reporter refers to them as kryptonite. Spicy, MSG and cheese-powder-laden fried taco shell surrounding “beef” and shredded Mexican blend cheese? It’s almost impossible to ignore the craving.
To prevent succumbing to its siren song, I’ve decided to make Doritos Locos myself.
I tackled the easy part first. I located the same cow that provided the cream for the DIAY brownies, led her to an artisanal bearded butcher, and slaughtered her in the most humane manner possible. I broke down the carcass myself using a hand-forged blade made by some more bearded dudes in Crown Heights. I reserved the short-rib meat to grind for my tacos and sold the rest of the cow to my locavore paleo friends through a meat CSA.
I brought the short rib home and ground it by hand. Please, if you are making this at home, do not use one of those shitty electronic meat grinders or (GOD FORBID) a food processor. Meat this good needs to be slowly cranked by hand through a wide-grain grinder. It should take a long time. I put this meat in the fridge to chill out while I made the rest of the taco.
OH WAIT before I killed the cow, I got some more milk from its udders.
I poured this raw milk into a ceramic jug and set it outside on my back porch to culture for a day. Once chunky, I added some rennet and cooked over super-low heat it until solid curds formed. Then I cut the curds using my hand-forged cheese knife (also from Crown Heights). I cooked the curds some more, and then I drained, pressed, and salted them. Into a cheese mold they went to age for a couple of weeks.
After the cheese turned into cheese, I hand shredded the block using another hand-forged knife. Cheese graters are for wannabe cooks. Next!
Luckily my friend grows heirloom iceburg lettuce in her community garden plot up the street. I walked over to her house and plucked the most unique head in the bunch. I shredded this beautiful specimen with the same knife I used for the cheese.
Okay, easy stuff over.
The first step in making a Doritos shell is to make the tortilla. To make the tortilla, I traveled to Mexico to harvest my own hominy. I had to negotiate with a few border patrol men on my way back to California, but managed to get home with all but the trunk of my car intact.
Next, I treated the hominy with lye. Any good craft store worth its weight in soap making supplies will carry lye. After a trip in a scalding basic solution, the hominy was ready to be ground into masa. Again, I used a hand grinder because using electricity is worse than driving a Hummer.
I mixed this masa with some water until it felt like play-doh and then rolled it into tortilla shapes. I dipped these rounds into a vat of hot oil.
OH WAIT I also made the oil myself from the leftover rice bran I had sitting around after polishing my own white sushi rice. You can also make your own fry oil by pressing olives and running their juice through a centrifuge to extract the oil from the water.
I couldn’t figure out how to make the tortillas fry into hard-taco shape, so let’s just call these Doritos Locos Tostadas. Then we won’t have a problem with trademark.
Finally, the good stuff:
To make the Doritos powder, this taco’s star ingredient, I headed to my neighborhood Asian supermarket. I bought a jar of MSG.
Next, I went to a health food store and bought a jar of nutritional yeast, a jar of organic cayenne powder, and a jar of organic paprika.
Finally, I got on my computer and ordered a big ass one-pound bag of organic cheese powder from King Arthur Flour.
You can’t make these things yourself. Don’t try.
Once my cheese shipment came in, I mixed all of these powders together in a big bowl and then dipped my hot tostadas into the mix.
I fried my short rib meat with extra salt, cayenne, and MSG. I could’ve added hot sauce here, but I ran out of time to make it and didn’t want to use store-bought. I poured the hot, fatty meat onto the Doritos shell and topped it with cheese and lettuce.
Totally worth it. I’ll never go back to Taco Bell again.
When it comes to brownies, the less shortcuts you take, the better. Unless you’re getting to the real root of your ingredients, you’re really not living at all. So, thankfully for you, we’ve devised the world’s best brownie recipe, from scratch.
3 pounds cocoa beans
1/2 cup butter
1 cup sugar
1 cup flour
The best chocolate, as everyone knows, is found deep in the Bolivian jungle. Sadly, there’s no existing infrastructure to get it out of the country, so your best bet is to catch a flight down south to Sucre and row your way down an Amazon tributary until you hit an islet replete with wild cocoa. Hack six pods down with your machete, preferably in the dead of night—the most antagonistic tribes hunt foreigners in daylight.
While you’re there, it would be in your best interest to snap a few rods of sugarcane too. Plantations are plenty, and dusk is a good time to slip in and out under a guard’s nose.
Once you’re back home, it’s butter time. For a real down home, authentic taste of TRUE facemelting goodness, nothing short of milk fresh from a Jersey cow’s teat will do. Ideally, you will have accompanied the cow through its youth, gained its trust, and grown accustomed to its longings and patterns. Milk from the utter of a cow that trusts you makes infinitely better butter for brownies than just plain old milk.
Let the milk sit for a day. At dawn the next morning, skim the layer of silky rich cream off the top. Let this sit in a jar for eight hours. At dusk the same day, pour the cream into your Amish butter churn, and churn the night away. When the butter has separated from the buttermilk, drink the butter milk and wash the butter with a cup of your own tears.
This is your cultured butter. (SUCK IT MARTHA STEWART)
You will have, at this point, shredded and squeezed the juice out of your sugarcane. If you haven’t already (what have have you been doing then??), boil the juice until thickened and strain off the molasses-soaked sugar crystals.
Next, obviously, roast, crack, winnow your cocoa, then grind the nibs. Mash the paste together with some cocoa butter from your pantry. Add sugar if you’re that kind of person.
Next, conch and temper the chocolate if you haven’t already you lazy fool.
Now fetch two eggs from wild, virgin hens (this recipe just won’t work without Messiannic eggs).
Now, brownies. Melt the chocolate, butter, and sugar in a pan. By sunlight is best, so as not to tamper with the delicate chemical balance of the ingredients. Beat the eggs in with your fingers.
Now, slowly add the flour. What? We didn’t tell you to get flour? OH SHIT. Well if you cared at all about where your food comes from you would have a store of freshly harvested wheat already threshed, winnowed, and de-hulled in your pantry. Now, quick: mill a handful and add teaspoon by teaspoon to the batter, stirring constantly.
Pour into a 9×13 pan, bake for 30 minutes at 375°, frost with the blood of a freshly slaughtered bison and invite your friends over!