Piggies!

Trout brought home these little piggies to raise for home cured bacon, tenderloin and other porky morsels this winter. I got to meet them on their drive home and wanted to introduce you. There will be more visits with them to come!

I peeked in on last year's pigs as they matured, but missed the slaughter. I think this is a crucial part of the cycle to witness as a meat eater (I suggest reading The Girl Hunter and Cleaving if it strikes an ethical cord for you). I caught the end of butchering that year and am fascinated with the efficiency of raising meat. My hat goes off to my empowered friends for putting in the hard work themselves- it makes a far more conscientious carnivore. 

I never dreamed piglets could be even stinkier than adult pigs, but I still have lots to learn if the masters' patience allows.

This essay by Thomas Keller completely changed my thinking about how we eat and cook meat, and reinforced my deep respect for the labor that goes into each ingredient we consume. Please read before you picket!

Born from Adam's Rib

 Real women love ribs. And barbecue. And hot sauce. Yesterday I had my first barbecue in far too long for a meat enthusiast to admit. Chuck and I met a couple friends in Calistoga for a luxurious day of mineral pools and hot springs. At Calistoga Spa, you can pay for day use on week days and soak up as much sun and water as your little heart desires. You can also bring in your own food and drinks.

So we did- a feast of treats from Oliver's Market: artisan truffled salami, cheeses handmade by friends, olives I'd never heard of, guacamole and Modelos to wash it all down. I wish I'd taken a picture, but I was too hypnotized by the perfect gooeyness of the Camembert that I forgot to grab my camera.

It seemed only fitting to max out our food lust with barbecue. We headed to Buster's on our way out of town, prepping ourselves for the legendary hot sauce. The clerk gave us an oral and a written warning on the spiciness. I took the challenge. Of course, I had nothing to prove. My pride was not at all riding on my ability to handle the deep, smoky edge of the firey sauce that stacked from my lungs up to my head with every bite. Perhaps I bit off more than I could chew, but I have no regrets. The pain was worth it.

It's hard to make barbecue look beautiful, but I'm sure you can appreciate the no-frills, no-nonsense approach of the presentation.

And yes, sometimes when I eat barbecue, I close my eyes. Doesn't everyone?

One Pig Dinner

Last week, I found myself in Healdsburg, at a Montessori school getting CPR and first-aid certified to be exact. "When in Rome," I thought afterwards, and went to Zin Restaurant, as the locals do. Having worked here just after college and again last year, this is like a second family. So yes, I'm biased.

Wednesday is One Pig Dinner Night featuring one of Tony's Local "Old Spot and Berkshire" Cross Hogs. And here I thought I was just getting an appetizer. But wait, the bread! I forgot how tangy their homemade super sourdough is. Don't mind if I do.

I went for the wine pairings, the lovely and local Sanglier Rose and Quivera Zin, both of Sonoma County. And then ate more bread.

The first course came and went- Hard Cider Braised Pork Cheek and Shank on Falls Mill Grits. It was so amazingly delicious that I couldn't bear to put my fork down to take a picture. But gee whiz, was it something else.

Second course was Smoked Shoulder and Spicy Grilled Loin, with white beans and Eastside Farm swiss chard. I cleaned my plate. 

The grand finale was maple pecan bread pudding with candied bacon. I am loving all the bacon in desserts these days! I had it stretched onto long skewers and dipped in chocolate, and then recently as a bacon cupcake. The fatty, salty, smokey flavors just beg for sugar to round them out.

Thanks for a terrific night, Zin!

Save that Ham Bone!

Last weekend, a chef friend asked me if I would use a leftover leg bone from a roasted pig. Um, yes! This may look like garbage or dog food to some, but I assure you it's pure gold. With a world of southern recipes I have yet to make swimming around in my head and a bone with lots of meat left on it, I'd have been crazy to say no.

The first thing I did was make ham stock. It's not nearly as versatile as chicken or veggie because it is so much fattier, but is a great base for lots of southern recipes. Collard greens, here I come!

I had to gingerly rotate the bone because even the largest stock pot in the house wasn't big enough for it.

Gently boiling for a couple hours will eventually pull all the meat off the bone. Pork stock takes a lot of skimming with the high fat content. (And on a sidenote, I apologize that the meat does not look more appetizing with my bottom line camera skills. Lots of props to photographers who can make meat look good in pictures!)

When I couldn't handle the stinky ham smell anymore, I pulled the pot and strained. Then I picked through the meat, pulling off all the fat, which are good for flavor, but not good to chew on.

This stock is perfect for cooking down collard greens, mixed with some of the ham hock. I had so much extra, I also made bean soup with nettles and garlic. The perfect southern gravy I want to make will have to wait till next time.

Jucy Lucys

And what exactly is a Jucy Lucy? I'm glad you asked.

It's probably one of the most genius burgers I've encountered in a long time, a specialty of the Twin Cities.

 At Matt's Bar in Minneapolis, hundreds if not thousands of these juicy gems get churned out from a griddle the width of a kitchen sink. Two patties are sealed together around some kind of amazing cheese mixture that melts into a glorious liquid once it's grilled. (The "i" is deliberately omitted, since the veteran employee who posted the sign back in 1950 wasn't the greatest speller, if not in a huge hurry to get back to the griddle.

 Here, my friend's husband dresses his Lucy with the biggest helping of ketchup I've ever seen.

 Mitch enjoys her first, if not slightly painful bite. By the way, we were amazed to immediately get a table, since there's usually a line out the door for these babies.

 I approach mine gingerly so I don't destroy the roof of my mouth. The element of surprise is akin to Chicken Kiev, but it's best to anticipate it so no one gets hurt.

 An interior view of the splendor, adorned with pickles and grilled onions.

 Matt's has a friendly feud with another joint who also claims to have the best Lucy. Mitch is confident that Matt's is the champion.

 I found a recipe for it here, and will definitely be trying to recreate this Midwestern masterpiece when I return home.

Happiest gals in the Midwest? You betcha.

Bacon and Blue Cheese Meatloaf

The week before I hurt my arm, I had a hankering for a burger. I had some leftover bacon, blue cheese and ground chuck. I decided I didn't need to eat three hamburgers, so I switched gears and made meatloaf instead.

Besides the cheese and double meat, I added olive oil, dijon mustard, hot sauce, tomato paste, garlic, eggs, salt and pepper.

Mixing is the fun part. With bare hands is the way to go.

Form into a loaf and press into an oiled pan.

Bake at 400 degrees for 40 minutes to an hour, depending on size.

Cleaving

What amazes me about reading is when you find that perfect book for that perfect time in your life.  Since I've been slowly trudging through books ever since I moved here from New York (where commuting gave me over 2 hours a day for reading), it is always incredible to find a book I don't want to put down and can get through in less than a few weeks.

For me, that book was Cleaving, by Julie Powell.  You may remember Powell from the heartwarming Julie and Julia.  Well, forget her.  Cleaving is the evil twin, the story of a dark time when Powell worked in a butcher shop while she was in a wrenching affair.  The parallels she draws between breaking down meat and tumultuous relationships are poetic and relevant.  Though dark and ugly, the writing is brutally honest and vulnerable, which takes a lot of guts (did I mention the parallels?).  At a time when I couldn't be more disenchanted by food and love, this was the absolute perfect read.  This takes something as rudimentary as butchery or love, and shows the multi-layered complexity through beauty and ugliness.

At last, the part of me that always found butchery to be intriguing is finally understood by another.  I am this close to walking into Willowside Meats and asking for a job.