Last night, we ran out of venison sausages at the Lincoln.
If you know the Lincoln well enough, you will know that they make their own sausages. I asked Graham, the chef, if I could watch him make them when he did.
He told me to get in at nine, if I could.
And I did.
He was surprised.
Before he learnt my name, he said he wasn't sure about me and my lesbian stomping boots.
"It's not Brunswick st."
Anyways, I'm on his good side. There is venison, kangaroo and a little pork in the sausages. The pork activates the protein. Told me about the importance of keeping all the meats cold while making it and the wonderful magic of "pink salt."
It is what makes the meat pink. Corned beef, ham, cutting open a raw sausage. Keeps it from oxidizing. As we were doing this, he brought out his beef, showed me how they hung it and explained the cuts of meat.
I was like a kid in a meaty candy store.
Then, casings were brought out, told me that it is important to soak them overnight so they are easy to separate, and the process of flushing.
Anyways, we made some sausages and he gave me a few serves to take home.
That's right, Lesbian-stomping-boot-girl is on his good side.
They do have to sit for a day though, with air so that the meat will take to the casings and they wont burst or explode.
And all of this before 10am.
I am quite proud.
