the kraut

My boss is insisting on bringing a load of sauerkraut for the luncheon on Friday. He proclaims himself a traditionalist when it comes to the eating of sausages, by which he really means that he cleaves to the Teutonic way of eating them: with mustard and sauerkraut, and little else—especially, Jesus, no fucking ketchup. I told the boss that the meats I had gotten for the chili dogs were Johnsonville "Beddar Cheddar" cheese franks—exactly the wrong kind of frank for a Germanic purist. So this evening, I went up the street to the local "meatateria" (its Korean name is Seolseong Mokjang 설성목장, which I guess means something like "fertile farm"), a butcher shop that also sells a variety of John Cook products (along with pizza and other items). I was in luck: the store had honest-to-goodness Bratwurst—the white kind, which I like better than the brown/tan kind. I also espied a package of long, thin, German-style Frankfurter, so I grabbed a pack of those... and then I saw the kielbasa. It wasn't just a tiny, shrunken-dick sausage: it was an entire loop of fairly thick meat, which is quite unusual to find on the peninsula. Of course, I grabbed a pack off the rack.

This means more grillin' for yours truly tonight, but it shouldn't take too long. Oh, yeah: it occurs to me that I have an extra bottle of beer in my fridge (I bought beer for the chili-making). What I might do, then, is grill the sausages on my stovetop, then braise everything in a shallow pool of beer (sort of a reverse beer instead of a reverse sear). Ach, ja.