Javali. Sus scrofa. The wild boar. Apparently, there’s an overpopulation of them in Portugal.
That might explain the recent surprise arrival of Alheira de Javali in my local supermarket.
Boar is something I normally associate with Italian dishes (a certain tantalising wild boar ragu served over handmade Ciriole in the hilly forests of Umbria comes fondly to mind). That rich decadence, the heightened flavours, certainly a step up from its descendant, the humble pork pig.
Then there’s the alheira, that quintessential national banger borne out of prohibition and persecution. A resourceful sausage, or perhaps fino como um alho*, since garlic certainly isn’t lacking In a proper alheira.
A marriage that neither party can refuse. A union which, I think, makes this particular alheira an alheira de caça, a hunted alheira. You might find this type of alheira with duck, pheasant, or rabbit in place of the traditional pork and pork fat. Apparently, boar is even less common. Bread, oil, garlic and paprika remains, as standard.
You’ll find chefs slinging alheira all around Portugal, with various cooking methods adapted to various regional palettes. In Mirandela, where arguably the best alheiras are produced, the sausage tends to be grilled. This is my preferred way. I once went to a Portuguese café in London, and I was served a kind of flattened alheira that didn’t look particularly appetising, but tasted just fine. Many of the alheiras I’ve ordered in the middle and south of the country have been coated in breadcrumbs and (deep) fried.
I don’t like fried alheira. Feels like a children’s meal. I also don’t like it when my home-cooked alheira splits open and the filling oozes out. Not good. Today, I read a tip for keeping the alheira intact, which is to add it to boiling water for about a minute, let it rest, then carry on cooking as normal.
So let’s try that, and then let’s put this fine wild boar sausage under the grill, and then let’s see what happens. Alheira algebra.
Also, some leftover grelos in the fridge. And so it was: Alheira de Javali c/ Arroz de Grelos.
Arroz de grelos, please
Arroz carolino. The national rice. Apparently, there’s an overpopulation of it in Portugal. That might explain why there’s so much of it in my cupboard.
It has shorter grains than agulha, it’s more compact, and it more successfully takes on the flavours of whatever it’s being cooked with. Today, it’s grelos.
Margarina vaqueiro. Margery and Caroline. And garlic – fino – onions, grelos. Done.
Plus a secret Italian celery braise. Because I’m still dreaming of that javali pasta.
(*thin as a garlic, an expression used to denote a wise or shrewd person, named after the resourceful merchant Afonso Martins Alho, who ‘saved’ a reeling Portugal from the devastating fallouts of the Black Plague by negotiating a difficult free trade agreement with England in the 14th century).
Wild boar alheira with turnip green rice (Alheira de javali c/ arroz de grelos)
Ingredients
The alheira
- 1 wild boar alheira alheira de javali
The arroz de grelos
- 1 tbsp olive oil
- 2 tbsp margarine
- 1 onion finely diced
- 2 garlic cloves minced
- 1 bunch grelos (turnip greens) leaves trimmed
- 1 cup arroz carolino or any medium-grain rice, rinsed and drained
- 2 cups water
Instructions
The alheira
- Preheat the broiler / grill inside your oven. Bring a pot of water to a boil on the stove.
- Submerge the alheira in the boiling water for around one minute.
- Remove the sausage and allow to rest for a further minute.
- Using a fork, prick the alheira once or twice on each side (this will allow steam to escape and reduce the chances of it bursting open), place the sausage on a baking tray or sheet in the oven a few inches away from the broiler / grill. Grill for 8-12 minutes.
- Check for doneness; the alheira should have a golden brown crust, it should feel firm to the touch, and juices will have accumulated on the grilling surface (you can use a meat thermometer to check the internal temperature, which should be around 160°F or 70°C when the alheira is fully cooked). Remove from the oven, rest, and serve with the turnip green rice.
The arroz de grelos
- Over medium heat, heat the margarine and olive oil in a pan large enough to hold the rice. Add the onions and garlic, and sautée until onions are translucent.
- Add the turnip green leaves, season well with salt, and sautée for 10 to 15 minutes. If the turnip green leaves still taste bitter after this time, keep them on the heat for longer (older leaves will require more cooking time to lose their bitter flavour).
- Add the rice to the pan, mix well with the vegetables for around thirty seconds, and listen for the first crackles of the rice being exposed to the heat. At this point, add the water, bring back to a boil, cover, and cook for 12 to 15 minutes, or to the cooking time of your rice.
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