Cheap vs expensive shashlik - Cooking with Boris

[–] • 1 pt

Our version goes as follows (and it's awesome):

Get a big pot called a gorshok (basically a chamber pot because that was the only large pot peasants had). Really, you can use any large pot.

Get some lamb. Now, this varies due to the quantity you want to make. We'd usually go for 5 pounds or more and have a good butcher cut it in to roughly 2" x 2" pieces (maybe a little smaller) and NOT trimming the fat. You need the fat.

Then get a bottle of vodka. No kidding here. Get the vodka. I'd recommend Chopin but your taste may vary.

First put a single layer of the lamb pieces in the bottom of the pot.

Add salt and pepper. Go a little heavier on both than you think you'd want to. Put some ground garlic on top of that.

On top of the seasoned meat, add a layer of chopped onions.

Get a whole ass load of lemons. Cut the lemons and squeeze them over the onions and spiced meat. Make sure you squeeze as much juice out as you can. And wear goggles so the lemon juice doesn't get in your eye (experience is talking here). Cover everything with a single layer of lemons.

That's a lot more work than you think it might be, so have a shot of vodka. Maybe two.

Then do it again (make the lamb, spices, onions, lemons layer).

Take another break and have a shot or two of vodka. As you make the layers it gets easier.

Keep making layers until you run out of meat. Ideally you should have about 1/4-1/3 of the pot empty at the top. Oh - and the pot needs handles.

Kick back for a moment and have a shot or two of vodka. Really. Celebrate your achievement because the hard work is just beginning.

Next, get a large cotton cloth (any large kitchen cloth will do - you could even use a bungee cord or a tie-down if it's tight enough, and tie the lid on to the gorshok. Yeah, you want to do this. Again, experience talking here.

Make sure your wife has cleaned out the refrigerator for the gorshok. (Don't think this is sexist. This is the Russian way.) Put the gorshok in the fridge.

Again, celebrate your achievement, knowing what's to come, and have more vodka. Party it up for an hour or so.

Get the gorshok out of the fridge and take turns "beating the meat". Basically the large men should each take a turn with the gorshok, holding it by the handles, and shaking the ever-loving fuck out of it. It's like a strength initiation of sorts. Guess why the top should be tied on?

When the meat is thoroughly beaten, untie the top and stir the entire concoction by hand. NO SPOONS OR IMPLEMENTS! USE YOUR HANDS! THIS IS THE RUSSIAN WAY! (It's also a great way to find out if you have any small wounds or papercuts on your hands.)

Then, optionally, you can beat the meat again if you're feeling particularly strong, but experience has shown this might just tire you out. Put the gorshok back in the fridge.

Party up and celebrate your achievement and strength for a couple of hours.

Pull the gorshok out of the fridge and "beat the meat" again. Stir it again. Put it back in the fridge. Drink more vodka. (Yes, really.)

Okay, so you probably thought this was all preparation for a party later in the day. Nope! This is all preparation for a party the next day. And the "beating the meat"? Yep, you wake up every few hours that night to beat that meat. And party. Don't forget to drink the vodka or you won't get back to sleep. It's like a protection from the gods.

So keep beating the meat until it's time for the party. Ideally your meat should have marinated for pretty much a whole day. At the very least 16 hours.

Get your barbecue hot. Boris (in the video) is completely right. More secret juice for the fire. Make that thing HOT.

Go dig through your garage for the shampre. That's what my Dad called them. I think he was using the wrong word. Basically they're long, sword-like, specialized skewers. We couldn't find any good ones in stores so we had a set made. Not cheap, but you need something what will easily support a pound or more of cooked meat and be help from one end. Ours are like 36" or so. Anyway, dig around until you find them because you put them somewhere after you did this the last time and now you have no idea where they are. Get them out.

CLEAN THE FUCKING SKEWERS. Soap and water.

Drink some vodka. It's nearly time.

Okay, now load the shampre with the meat. Don't put onions or lemons on the skewers because this ain't no vegetarian bullshit. Make sure you have somewhere to put those skewers before cooking them. We used to balance them across the kitchen sink. Mom hated that cause she was always wanting to use the sink. Well, some things come before... other things. Have another shot of vodka.

Okay, time for the PRESENTATION.

Make a big-ass deal in front of all of your guests about bringing out the meat. Get a few people to help as those shampre are a bit unwieldy. Lay them carefully across the open barbecue pit. Then you need three people to watch the meat. One to turn, one to assist, one to comment on what needs to be turned, one to drink, and one to make sure nobody goes without vodka. Okay, more then three, but more is always better here.

THE TASTER IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THE GROUP. AND YOU CAN HAVE MULTIPLE TASTERS.

Get the sharpest knife in the kitchen. If it's not sharp, you make it sharp. Use this sharp knife to cut a small piece from a piece of lamp about half way between the middle and the end of the meat on one of the shampre. You don't want to measure the middle and you don't want to measure the very end.

Stuff that piece of meat in to the taster's mouth. It'll be hot. It'll hurt. Have vodka on hand. The vodka will help. The taster should know what he or she is doing with regard to how cooked meat should feel. When the taster(s) declare it's ready, you need a team of people to man the now emptied and cleaned gorshok. One person holds the gorshok, one person opens and closes the lid. Lid opens, shampur is emptied of meat in to the gorshok. Lid is closed. And so on until the shampre are empty of meat.

The gorshok (now full of delicious peasant lamb) is proudly and loudly carried to the eating area. People are to descend on it like vampires to a fresh virgin (or whatever vampires might flock to). If you don't eat the shashlik right away it'll be... less heavenly. Ideally you want it hot enough that it's just barely uncomfortable when it first enters your mouth.

I've made shashlik with my father dozens of times and never once did I ever hear anyone say it was anything less than completely awesome. Twice we even converted vegetarians. Yep, it's that good.

Boris does a pretty good job here. I should make a video of how it should really be done (vodka and all). It's quite the experience.

I grew up making shashlik on the barbecue with my father. He taught me the old way, as his Russian father taught him. This is a very close approximation of what shashlik is (there are a lot of versions of this as it's basically a gourmet peasant food). Our version goes as follows (and it's awesome): Get a big pot called a gorshok (basically a chamber pot because that was the only large pot peasants had). Really, you can use any large pot. Get some lamb. Now, this varies due to the quantity you want to make. We'd usually go for 5 pounds or more and have a good butcher cut it in to roughly 2" x 2" pieces (maybe a little smaller) and NOT trimming the fat. You need the fat. Then get a bottle of vodka. No kidding here. Get the vodka. I'd recommend Chopin but your taste may vary. First put a single layer of the lamb pieces in the bottom of the pot. Add salt and pepper. Go a little heavier on both than you think you'd want to. Put some ground garlic on top of that. On top of the seasoned meat, add a layer of chopped onions. Get a whole ass load of lemons. Cut the lemons and squeeze them over the onions and spiced meat. Make sure you squeeze as much juice out as you can. And wear goggles so the lemon juice doesn't get in your eye (experience is talking here). Cover everything with a single layer of lemons. That's a lot more work than you think it might be, so have a shot of vodka. Maybe two. Then do it again (make the lamb, spices, onions, lemons layer). Take another break and have a shot or two of vodka. As you make the layers it gets easier. Keep making layers until you run out of meat. Ideally you should have about 1/4-1/3 of the pot empty at the top. Oh - and the pot needs handles. Kick back for a moment and have a shot or two of vodka. Really. Celebrate your achievement because the hard work is just beginning. Next, get a large cotton cloth (any large kitchen cloth will do - you could even use a bungee cord or a tie-down if it's tight enough, and tie the lid on to the gorshok. Yeah, you want to do this. Again, experience talking here. Make sure your wife has cleaned out the refrigerator for the gorshok. (Don't think this is sexist. This is the Russian way.) Put the gorshok in the fridge. Again, celebrate your achievement, knowing what's to come, and have more vodka. Party it up for an hour or so. Get the gorshok out of the fridge and take turns "beating the meat". Basically the large men should each take a turn with the gorshok, holding it by the handles, and shaking the ever-loving fuck out of it. It's like a strength initiation of sorts. Guess why the top should be tied on? When the meat is thoroughly beaten, untie the top and stir the entire concoction by hand. NO SPOONS OR IMPLEMENTS! USE YOUR HANDS! THIS IS THE RUSSIAN WAY! (It's also a great way to find out if you have any small wounds or papercuts on your hands.) Then, optionally, you can beat the meat again if you're feeling particularly strong, but experience has shown this might just tire you out. Put the gorshok back in the fridge. Party up and celebrate your achievement and strength for a couple of hours. Pull the gorshok out of the fridge and "beat the meat" again. Stir it again. Put it back in the fridge. Drink more vodka. (Yes, really.) Okay, so you probably thought this was all preparation for a party later in the day. Nope! This is all preparation for a party the next day. And the "beating the meat"? Yep, you wake up every few hours that night to beat that meat. And party. Don't forget to drink the vodka or you won't get back to sleep. It's like a protection from the gods. So keep beating the meat until it's time for the party. Ideally your meat should have marinated for pretty much a whole day. At the very least 16 hours. Get your barbecue hot. Boris (in the video) is completely right. More secret juice for the fire. Make that thing HOT. Go dig through your garage for the shampre. That's what my Dad called them. I think he was using the wrong word. Basically they're long, sword-like, specialized skewers. We couldn't find any good ones in stores so we had a set made. Not cheap, but you need something what will easily support a pound or more of cooked meat and be help from one end. Ours are like 36" or so. Anyway, dig around until you find them because you put them somewhere after you did this the last time and now you have no idea where they are. Get them out. CLEAN THE FUCKING SKEWERS. Soap and water. Drink some vodka. It's nearly time. Okay, now load the shampre with the meat. Don't put onions or lemons on the skewers because this ain't no vegetarian bullshit. Make sure you have somewhere to put those skewers before cooking them. We used to balance them across the kitchen sink. Mom hated that cause she was always wanting to use the sink. Well, some things come before... other things. Have another shot of vodka. Okay, time for the PRESENTATION. Make a big-ass deal in front of all of your guests about bringing out the meat. Get a few people to help as those shampre are a bit unwieldy. Lay them carefully across the open barbecue pit. Then you need three people to watch the meat. One to turn, one to assist, one to comment on what needs to be turned, one to drink, and one to make sure nobody goes without vodka. Okay, more then three, but more is always better here. THE TASTER IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THE GROUP. AND YOU CAN HAVE MULTIPLE TASTERS. Get the sharpest knife in the kitchen. If it's not sharp, you make it sharp. Use this sharp knife to cut a small piece from a piece of lamp about half way between the middle and the end of the meat on one of the shampre. You don't want to measure the middle and you don't want to measure the very end. Stuff that piece of meat in to the taster's mouth. It'll be hot. It'll hurt. Have vodka on hand. The vodka will help. The taster should know what he or she is doing with regard to how cooked meat should feel. When the taster(s) declare it's ready, you need a team of people to man the now emptied and cleaned gorshok. One person holds the gorshok, one person opens and closes the lid. Lid opens, shampur is emptied of meat in to the gorshok. Lid is closed. And so on until the shampre are empty of meat. The gorshok (now full of delicious peasant lamb) is proudly and loudly carried to the eating area. People are to descend on it like vampires to a fresh virgin (or whatever vampires might flock to). If you don't eat the shashlik right away it'll be... less heavenly. Ideally you want it hot enough that it's just barely uncomfortable when it first enters your mouth. I've made shashlik with my father dozens of times and never once did I ever hear anyone say it was anything less than completely awesome. Twice we even converted vegetarians. Yep, it's that good. Boris does a pretty good job here. I should make a video of how it should really be done (vodka and all). It's quite the experience.

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