Stash Studios

When Pigs Fly

“Dai due regni di natura, piglia il cibo con misura” ~ “From the two kingdoms of nature, choose food with care.” An Italian adage that frames the philosophy behind Dai Due (Austin) and was the underlying theme for a weekend of hog hunting in the Hill Country.

A dear friend who eats meat but calls herself "city" was slightly squeamish to hear that I was rendering lard and cracklings  last night while Mr. Stash was breaking down a boar on our kitchen counter with a alarmingly large saw. I have to be honest with you. We've never done this in our lives. Both of us are at least one, possibly two generations away from having the need to butcher for survival.

Though I lived for several years as a vegetarian, I eat meat now and I'm completely disillusioned with the industrial factory farm system through which most of what we consume gets passed. So when Jesse (Dai Due) offered us the chance to join him and Tink (Off the Fly) and the guys at Madroño Ranch (Medina), we jumped at the chance. I had just read the article in Texas Monthly and found the idea that I didn't know something as elemental as this irritatingly bourgeois.

A force of gravity
drawn to the other end
of experience
so that I could more thoroughly honor
the honest fact
that
I cut
skin
for art
and
a living

Friday evening was my first time to sit in a blind and wait. I told my daughter later that this was much like sitting on an airplane for a long flight watching a silent foreign movie. The space was compact. No cell phone service. We had to be remain still, quiet, and fairly scent free. Four hours passed with nothing more than a few cardinals in range. Then two large hogs wandered into our line of sight. I pointed. He shot. The guys ran out to track and I paused. I despise gratuitous gore but there is nothing inessential about this moment. It was our solemn duty to see this through. An honor really.

I can best equate this experience to childbirth
it is a messy threshold of sorts
a transformational crossing
and to those on the other side
no bridge can be built
one must cross it on their own
or remain on
the other
side

Moments later the sun started to sink beyond the hills and the truck full of hunters came to retrieve us. We hopped on back with our hog and bounced down the steep mountain absorbing all the stories of what had passed for each of the men in the last four hours. Tires crunched over limestone and splashed through dark creekbeds as we headed to the gambrel.

I really thought this was going to be the hard part. It had been at least 30 years since I'd seen game hanging in a tree waiting to be dressed. But my husband said before we left that I'm a gauntlet girl. Throw one down. Tell me I can't do it. And I proceed. Full tilt. Words echoing in my wake. Just watch me.

This was
no
red
neck
blood
letting

There
is a beautiful
reverence for
honest wildness of
the animals
here

No hormones
no industrial farms
my food has soul
I saw it

And at the moment it slipped away
it became our responsibility
to retain
its
soul

Tired but satisfied, we headed home for dinner and rest. Just before I fell asleep, I pulled out the one book I brought with me, The Dirty Life and couldn't believe the serendipity when on page ten, this citified, vegetarian writer was helping slaughter a hog, something that ended up being her first step into a new life.

On Saturday morning, the guys all went out on a dawn hunt. It was 20 degrees and my very experienced counterpart was going solo into a solitary stand. Following the morning hunt, the afternoon was consumed with detailed demonstration of butchery, curing, and sausage-making. All the while, Jesse broke down the fresh boars, his chefs swirled around him working on dinner. Never before has a farm-to-table dinner been so utterly close to the farm for me. What was described as a traditional Italian four course meal included no less than twelve unique dishes that utilized the hog from start to finish.

Sunday night we were bone tired from a long drive and little sleep but we broke out a bottle of wine, joked about branding this sWine night, and worked late into the night showing our kitchen more action than it has likely ever seen.

Now
my freezer is full
free range, organic, prime cut meat
bacon, chops, roast, ham, and the beginnings of pancetta, proscuitto, and sausage
the fridge has 16 pints of rich broth that smells like butter
and two pints of lard that incidentally
is healthier than
butter

Refreshing and rare
this weekend was not about who you know
or what you can afford
or what you drive
or where you live
it was about
survival and
choices

Jesse's cookbook arrives this September. Tink is available as your guide to all things wild. The guys run weekend classes on all sorts of wild game. You can find Dai Due at the farmer's market in Austin. And Madroño Ranch is a great source for organic bison as well as a center for writing, art, and the environment.

Fresh Start

New Stash Co site is loaded. The pickings are slim BUT some of my best sellers are now open for special order. New bags for 2012 will be loaded following our next round of Urban Market in February. 

Spaulted

The only person who can paint a Jasper Johns original is Jasper himself. In the very same way, Centro-Matic writes their own songs and plays their own music. With this idea of personal creation, we build our own bags and we design our own furniture and fixtures down to the raw material. 

Above is a Texas pecan tree that we've been curing in our wood storage container for more than a year. When we put it through our saw mill, we were delighted to find it had naturally spaulted which means that it is shot through with stunning zone lines, varying colors and patterns as a natural result of the decay process. 

A true family effort with help from friends, we have cut, cured, milled, planed, sanded, finished and crafted each piece to create an industrial meets wood table and two bookshelves. These pieces of very unique furniture will be available for viewing and purchase in our booth this weekend at Urban Market - Houston. Come see the result.

Wood Work.

Working to find a large slab out of a twisted multi-trunk 7x12 Bois d' arc tree, we got a jump on the heat to tackle this little project. 

The Bois d' arc is a hard hard Southern Plains tree introduced as pioneers moved west and needed fences to keep cattle. So before the invention of barbed wire in the late 1800s, landowners would grow hedges of Bois d' arc. Tolerant of hot summers and fast growers, the immature trees bear inch long spines making them well-suited for prairie windbreaks and fencing. Just 100 years after its introduction, nearly 100,000 miles of this living hedge were found in Kansas alone.

We collect trees. And much like any of the materials used around here, the Stash family spends a good deal of time with them trying to figure out the best, most creative use for each unique tree. Unlike our old canvas collections and accumulation of metalwork, cut trees have a bit of an internal clock. In particular, hardwood trees like the Bois d' arc must be cut fairly green or they harden to nearly impossible. This one cured a bit long and we busted a blade on the mill but this week we are designing a special sled to use with an extra-large chain saw so that we can finish the job. 

You will be able to see the fruits of these labors this October 22-23 at Urban Market in Houston.

 

Far From Glamorous

Last Sunday afternoon we were on a concrete drive in 104 degrees, full sun, on hands and knees scrubbing old canvas and doubting our sanity and I remember saying that making things by hand without any import tags from absolutely scratch and nurturing the materials at every stage has gained quite a cool reputation of late but it is far from glamorous. 

Quoddy Workshop - Lewiston, Maine from Oliver Wilkins on Vimeo.

So, I was headed out to the factory this morning to see if the roof and buckets held through the night with the much-appreciated rain we've finally been receiving. Then this hit my inbox from my friend Sweeney via FREE/MAN. So I had to stop and share.

What I know is this. Despite the buckets holding raindrops waiting for me in a creaky dusty structure that was first dreamed up more than a century ago. Despite the fret and worry over the economy, the roof, personal investment and not enough time in a day. Despite the highs and lows of owning one's own business. Despite ending days covered in sweat and caked with leather dust. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Have a good one,

Outstanding.

This strikes my heart on so many levels. Bringing real food, to real people, in a real place. Funny that this would be considered a novelty rather than a way of life. Outstanding indeed.

Lather Up.

I discovered this artisan-brand soap in campfire and cedarwood sage by Marfa Brands several years ago while staying with a friend. Recently, Ginger whipped up a special batch of rose clay soap with lavender which she shared with me and it is my new favorite. 

Support local. Grow together.

Might Be A Sign.

Australian Graphic Artist, Brett Coelho works with a wide range of found materials and my favorite pieces are the text-driven from old signs.

Just In Case.

Vintage cases. Wooden toolboxes. Lunch boxes. Wired for sound. Self-powered. Portable. Works with iPod, iPhone, or any device with a headphone jack.

BoomCase. Words can not begin to describe how deeply I love this concept. 

The Beginning

My mind is whirling with stories to tell you. I want to just grab your hand and take you on a tour through all the places and things going at the moment. It seems like the beginning of something I am not fully able yet to wrap my head around. But I will surpress sophmore enthusiasm and employ patience to process and tell the story in measured time as it is ready to unfold.

Though quiet here on this website, the week was a whirlwind behind the scenes. We moved to a secondary production location in record time. When my crew left and I was quietly tidying up the space, it became clear that the building was intent to have a conversation with its new inhabitants. The windows whisper and rattle, the building groans, the stairs sound as if someone is forever climbing them. As I stood taking it all in, roosters began crowing in the distance and I had the most comforting sense that I had returned home. 

There is much work to be done. Family and friends are coming together to help clean and organize the space. Our plan is to work together to help the owner preserve and embrace the history of the space while employing it to once again support American-made goods.