Bringing Home the Bacon

We recently came into a significant inheritance of sorts - about 200lbs of pork resulting from the harvest of the pigs we raised this past year.  Some of that meat comes in ready-made and recognizable cuts that can be used immediately in the kitchen.  Others portions invite additional processing in order to bring out the best.  What follows are a couple of our recent adventures in curing and smoking.

When a pig is harvested, one of the biggest tasks is to get all of that meat packaged and stored.  Most of it can be vacuum sealed and stored in a freezer until ready to use (one of the great conveniences of pursuing an old task in a modern age).  But other cuts can be preserved using other methods, like curing, which will not only save freezer space but will also produce some of the very tastiest stuff we associate with the noble pig.  The primary text I've been using as a guide to this process is Ruhlman and  Polcyn's Charcuterie: The Craft of Salting, Smoking, and Curing

The belly is one of those cuts that benefits greatly from various cure treatments.  These large slabs are a wondrous mix of tender meat and silky fat and it is here that we look for bacon.  Yes, bacon....take a moment if you need to.  This past year the world did a collective shudder as it contemplated the mere possibility of a bacon shortage - a truly terrible thing to consider.  To transform the fresh pork into salty, smokey goodness, a slab of belly is first covered with a cure.  This is a mix of salt, sugar, spices, and often (though not always) some special curing agents that protect the meat from developing certain kinds of dangerous bacteria.  The meat is then put into a large ziplock bag and placed in the fridge, where it sits in the resulting brine that leaches out.  After a week and a bit, the slab is removed and rinsed off, then allowed to dry in a fridge for about 24 hours - this preps the meat for smoking.

I prepared four large slabs of belly in basically this manner, although one slab was destined for the garage rather than the smoker (it being turned in to pancetta, the subject of a future post).  When ready, they were put into the smoker and cold-smoked for several hours over smoldering applewood chips, then transferred to the oven where they were cooked to an internal temperature of 150F.  Voila!  Bacon!  We now have more bacon that I know what to do with.....well....actually, I'm pretty sure of what to do with it.

Another great cut for curing is the ham.  This comes from the hind leg quarters and can be a large cut.  This can be cured in several ways, some roads leading to tender, sweet ham, other, longer journeys resulting in prosciutto.  I decided to debone our hams and then submerged them in a brine for about two weeks.  They sat out in our garage, protected by salty brine and cool temperatures, as they underwent a flavorful transformation.  After this, they, too, sat uncovered in the fridge to dry, then off to the smoker where they were exposed to applewood smoke for about 5 hours.  We finished them in the oven to 150F.  These hams make a fantastic feature for a big meal, the smoke flavor is superb.  You can also put them through a slicer, particularly convenient because they are boneless, and turn out your own packages of deli meat.

The quality of the product that can be produced in your own kitchen is really astounding.  The flavors are amazing - this is work that pays dividends on the time and attention given to it.  We are now able to find quality deli meats and gourmet bacon a few steps away from the kitchen, tucked safely in the freezer.  And bacon and ham are just the tip of the porkberg, so to speak.  Pancetta and guanciale are curing in the garage, developing character and flavor.  After those, there will be time to try our hand at sausage making, a product that can also benefit from salt, cure, and smoke.  The pigs just keep on giving!  Stay tuned for more charcuterie updates as time works its magic!        

Primal Cuts

This past Friday I traveled to the far reaches of Whidbey Island, located in the Puget Sound, to take part in an instructional class of a unique kind.  A small number of participants gathered for several days of shared work, taking two pigs from the host farm through the entire process of harvest.  Our own pigs are fast nearing their harvest date, so this was a timely opportunity to gain critical experience.

WARNING: WHAT FOLLOWS IS A POST THAT DESCRIBES THE DIVIDING OF A PIG CARCASS INTO USEFUL PORTIONS OF MEAT MEANT FOR CONSUMPTION.  THERE WILL BE PICTURES.  IF THIS TOPIC OR THESE PICTURES PROMISE TO BE OFFENSIVE TO YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READ THEM.  INSTEAD, ENJOY THIS PICTURE OF THE MUKILTEO-CLINTON FERRY IN THE RAIN.  TO CONTINUE READING THE POST, SIMPLY SCROLL ON DOWN.

The class was hosted by the crew at Farmstead Meatsmith.  I have been lurking on their website for the better part of this past year, trying to glean from the excellent and beautiful instructional videos some of the techniques we would need to put to use as we eventually come to the task with our own animals.  Apart from the very practical discussion, you also end up getting a look at some recipes and food treatments that make it clear that those folks are foodies as well as butchers and abattoirs.  And they weave in some of their philosophical commitments that undergird their choice to get this personal with their food experience.  It is no small vision; more than an economic argument and bigger than a nostalgic look back to days past, there is a commitment to community life, to hospitality, to stewardship and to generosity.  The commitment to these values goes beyond a claim on them as the niceties of society - they are seen as vital, necessary, needful....I would say even strategic.  By that, I mean that members of a community practice these values as a way to pursue their ability to survive and thrive - and so the whole interdependent community around them does as well.

That may all sound a bit high-minded for a class on butchering a pig.  But our connections to one another, our connections to food and to the animals that we take it from, to the land that we take it from - these connections have all been weakened in our contemporary culture of commoditization.  The plastic wrapped packages of meat we buy in the store, or the neatly arranged piles of fruits or vegetables soaking under the misters in the produce aisle, these are far removed from their places and processes of origin.  Regaining a connection to our food is a way to not only regain control over the quality and economics of our food, but also a way to explore the reforging of those connective paths between our food and each other.

And now, here is a picture of a philosophical butcher in training - my brother Alex.

Alex is a shareholder in our little herd of pigs and so is also preparing for the big day.  He participated in all three days of the class, which covered topics like slaughter and evisceration, butchery and meat curing.  He also managed to harvest a deer while on the Island, a timely accomplishment considering the number of cutting boards, knives and other processing tools located at the farm site.

Our instructor was Brandon Sheard, who led us through the steps to take full sides of pork and transform them into usable cuts of meat.  The pigs had been processed the day before, so when I arrived on Friday they were already cleaned, divided, and chilled - what was left were four sides of pork.  Alex and I had one side to work with between us, and we first divided it into quarters (two shoulders, loin and side).

All of the traditional pork cuts that you might find in the grocery store can be found in these quarters, and there are some non-traditional cuts hiding in there as well.  What becomes abundantly evident early on is just how much food one pig can produce for a family or community.  Brandon made a comparison to "loaves and fishes"....with each cut, the food seems to multiply.  This abundance is part of what invites and encourages hospitality surrounding the harvest.

That hospitality was well-modeled by our host site - a picturesque farm property hidden in the deep forests of Whidbey Island, the host family provided a beautiful locale for the class.  It is hard to express just how warm the reception was - not only did we accomplish the butchering in the comfort of a large kitchen setting, we were treated to food and drink at every turn.  Homemade cheese, pickled beets and beans, spicy garden salsa, even some very local spirit distilled from apples and aged in oak.

Our quarters turned slowly, cut by cut, into pork chops, tenderloin, boston butt, picnic roasts, leaf fat, back fat and, of course, bacon.  Or at least, belly, which would eventually turn into bacon.  Or cured into pancetta.  Or roasted into delicious.  That's the thing, there are so many possibilities, one side is 150 lbs of potential - a foodie's mother lode.

The instruction was very useful, the best kind of hands-on work that I needed to feel more confident as we approach our big harvest day.  The experience gained will help insure that our own pigs' life ends in as humane and respectful way as they have lived, and that we are able to maximize the ways in which our family...and our community....will be able to benefit by that gift.

Pigs, Pork, and Associated Perils

WARNING:  WHAT FOLLOWS IS A POST ABOUT THE RAISING OF ANIMALS AS A SOURCE OF FOOD.  IT IS INTENDED FOR AUDIENCES INTERESTED IN SUCH PURSUITS.  IT IS NOT INTENDED TO OFFEND THOSE WHO ARE NOT.  THE BEST WAY TO AVOID THIS OFFENSE IS TO SKIP TO ANOTHER POST.  THIS BLOG IS NOT A SITE FOR DEBATE.  I LIKE DEBATE.  BUT THIS IS NOT A FORUM FOR SUCH DISCUSSIONS.  CARRY ON.

Back in May we welcomed four piglets to the farm, our spring pig project had begun.  It is a five month experiment in raising our own animals, caring for them, and eventually harvesting those animals for food.  There is a lot of rationale for such an endeavor, and many benefits, but I am not here to convince you of the merits of such a thing, only to share our experience in it.  I assume if you are reading this that you have come to terms with your omnivorous nature and won't begrudge me my own.  If you have committed yourself to other ways of feeding the wondrous machine that is your body without animal proteins, then you have my admiration and well-wishes.

Our young pigs back in June, starting to grow.

Pigs are fantastic animals.  And I'm not just talking about their unparalleled superiority in the minds of the culinary world.  It has been a lot of fun to raise our four hogs up on the farm this year.  They started out at about 20-25 lbs each, cute as a button and full of fun. They were pretty skittish upon moving into their new digs in May, but it didn't take more than a week before they had warmed up to their caretakers and their new home.  The kids enjoyed coming by to see them and I liked running the length of paddock with a stampeding porcine herd in pursuit.

Taken in July sometime, I think.....showing a little more size.

Able to feed freely, they have grown rapidly.  These days they are all over the 200lb mark, our big girl is going to finish at 300lbs, I'm convinced.  At this size they are something to reckon with and the pig pasture has been a kid-free zone for some time now.  A curious sow can throw a wheelbarrow with one toss of her head (even if that wheelbarrow is loaded with manure and stacked with rake and shovel....ask me how I know) and their propensity to test things with an exploratory bite means that you don't really want to turn your attention away from them for too long lest you find your boot or your calf in their powerful jaws.  But they remain good-natured and our experience with them has been overall very positive.

Taken in early September, getting big now.

However, harvest time continues to approach.  These four pigs are being divided between six families, providing food for more than 20 people, not including friends and family.  We are going to be handling the whole process ourselves from a to z, snout to tail, slaughter to sausage.  It is a big task, one with no small amount of gravitas in it.  And so we are already starting preparations.

In the information age, there is a great deal of help out there for people interested in taking on work like this for themselves.  And, of course, such a pursuit has a niche community out there that is passionate about such things.  There are the foodies, the hunter-sorts, the homesteaders, paleo-dieters, and a whole crop of people coming to this through the agrarian renaissance.  One such voice comes from the good folks at Farmstead Meatsmith, an amazing resource located here in the Northwest.  They have published a series of beautiful (no really, you should go watch) instructional videos on their site that not only give some of the practical steps to farm butchery but also do a good job of introducing much of the rationale that drives so many of us to seek a different way of life, or perhaps I should say a different way of food.

In mid-October I will be taking part in a hands-on experience in side-butchery with the Farmstead Meatsmith folks over on Whidbey Island.  I have been tooling up for our own harvest, collecting knives and knowledge, and in general getting very excited about the culinary benefits of this process.  I can recommend several books that have helped in the planning, including Michael Ruhlman's Charcuterie: The Craft of Salting, Smoking, and Curing;  Stéphane Reynaud's Pork and Sons ( a beautifully photographed book about pig harvest and charcuterie in provincial France); and The Whole Beast: Nose to Tail Eating, by Fergus Henderson.

Harvest is going to happen sometime around the first week of November.  In the meantime the pigs are eating cull apples and pears, zuchinni and squash, and even the occasional early pumpkin.  They like extra eggs from the chickens when they can get them and nearly took my hand off the other day when I delivered a bag full of over-ripe plums and apricots.  We've liked the experience and are already making plans for next year.  More updates to come as we get to harvest time.....wait until I tell you all about salami!

Spring Pigs

Today marked a milestone in our adventures in country living.  Sure, chickens are great, but every hipster in Seattle has got him or herself a backyard flock.  Shoot, any good flock of chickens just about comes with a pair of skinny jeans, some ironic facial hair, and a can of PBR.  But you know you are going beyond the trendy when you step into bona-fide livestock.  So that's what we did.  Time to dust off the Curriculum Vitae and add "Pig Farmer" to the list of life skills.

We picked up our four piglets today from new friend Pablo at Mountain View Family Ranch (www.mountainviewfamilyranch.com).  The pigs are being raised on the farm property that we have been rehabilitating with friends.  They get a very large paddock, deluxe all the way.  We had to do some work to make it right, including fence repair, gate replacement, and electric-fence installation.  We knew that the pigs would be ready for pick-up in early May and the day finally arrived.  We had some last-minute adjustments to make, but moved the four little ladies in late this morning.

There has been a lot of interest in this project as it picked up steam.  The four pigs we have are going to be divvied up between six or so families - when word started getting out, we could easily have bought ten or more, there was that much interest.  But we are keeping our first venture into pig-raising modest in scale.  It is a five-month investment, these cuties are slated for the chopping block in November.  That's the way of things, folks.  But they are going to get a lot of attention and love in the meantime, possibly even a trip to the fair.  Stay tuned for more farm updates as we all get settled into late spring routines here!