When I first read about Slow Pig Weekend Blogging, I went and bought a pork tenderloin, which I've cooked successfully lots of times. Then I thought I should cook something I never have before—and came home from the DeLuxe Foods (the fancy grocery store in Aptos) with a two-pound pork shoulder roast. Having no idea at all what I was going to do with it, I started hitting my cookbooks before the playoff games on Saturday. After going through a dozen or so, all my faithfuls let me down. What's a girl to do? Hit Epicurious, of course.
Five minutes later: eureka! Slow-Roasted Pork with Lime Mojo and a Latin spice rub called out to me, and I climbed on board. I had to make another trip to the store for limes and other ingredients, and then realized the whole thing was going to have to marinate overnight. So I put everything together, and put the pork shoulder back into the refrigerator, afloat in Lime Mojo (olive oil with garlic, lime juice, jalapeños, etcetera). What, then, were we to eat on Saturday night? If you had been standing in my kitchen, after I roasted the cumin, coriander, and black peppercorns for the Latin Spice Mix to rub on the roast, you would have said what I did: "I'm going to use this stuff on the tenderloin, too."
And thus it was that one of the most perfect meals I've ever cooked came into being. The recipe for Lime Mojo calls for sherry wine vinegar. My supermarket didn't have this, and I am so glad. I went through all my condiments and found orange-champagne vinegar and tangerine balsamic. I used two tablespoons of the former, and one of the latter, in the mojo, which is the marinade for the pork. After giving the tenderloin a good rub with the spice mix, I ladled on a little mojo and let it sit for an hour or so before popping it into the convection toaster oven and letting it fill the house with an intense and spicy aroma. Meanwhile, I parboiled and then roasted some Yukon Gold potatoes, and made a variation on a recipe I got from a friend in college, called "Carrots Caroline."
Carrots Caroline = the easiest thing in the world. Coarsely grated carrots are lightly sautéed in a little butter with a hit of nutmeg. My variation, to complement the tenderloin, was to omit the nutmeg and use a little of the tangerine balsamic.
In retrospect, I wish I had remembered to use a little duck fat on the potatoes (which I did last night), but it was otherwise one of the best things I've ever cooked.
Last night's roast came out just fine, but you can see for yourselves that the tenderloin is succulent and crusted with spice. And I'll stick with "the other white meat" instead of trying to figure out how to prepare Long Pig.
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Ah, the pig. For how many has bacon become the cure for vegetarianism? How many Emeril lovers or loathers can argue with his motto: "Pork fat rules!"? What do we know about pigs? Plenty—from the comical element to the realm of insults ("he lives/eats like a pig"), the pig is anthropomorphized constantly, and usually unfairly.
It may come as a surprise to you, but we Pigs are chivalrous and gallant. (I was born in the Year of the Pig. Is it any wonder that this is my favorite radio station?) Pigs have tremendous fortitude and are honest and scrupulous. With their generous hearts, the Pig would rather give than receive—and you're thinking to yourself, "I know all this, for I have read Fergus Henderson's words on using the last bit of this noble beast." As the Japanese note, the Pig is "broad in the front and narrow in the back," which one might think indicates a dilettante. My personal spin is that Pigs are interested in everything and can't be pinned down to be some kind of freakish authority on, say, dining implements in 18th century Russia as used by spice traders on ships made only of the Black Forest spruce. (If that's your talent, more power to you.) Jack of all trades, master of none, perhaps, but if you've got a bunch of things you do fairly well—like graphic design, writing, photography, and obsessive research—you'll probably be a pretty good blogger.
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Fans of Joe Bob Briggs might remember Rory Calhoun's pig-masked portrayal of Farmer Vincent in "Motel Hell." "It takes all kinds of critters to make Farmer Vincent's Fritters!": "The high point of the film is the climactic fight scene where Vincent dons a pig head and goes down in a wicked chainsaw fight. His dying words, he comes clean with his hypocrisy that he used....gasp! PRESERVATIVES!" Maybe Farmer Vincent needed a copy of Michael Ruhlman's latest book.
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If you ever visit Mike Danz's pig farm in Black Earth, Wisconsin, you might come away with thoughts like those of Alice and Thomas:
"The sudden squeals of the piglets touched my heart, and the adorable piggy’s twingling, mischievous eyes made me want to laugh out loud. How the soft, wet snout on my chin made me feel is hard to describe. "—Alice
"At the pig farm the noise shocked me. There was a placenta in the room where the piglets were born that shocked me, but I could not show it or I would get in trouble. The smell at the butcher shop almost made me throw up. Also, at the butcher shop when they were cutting carcasses and shaving them and taking out the bones I was getting very, very shocked." —Thomas
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Googling for "pig poems" produced several intriguing items, including this Philip Levine poem, "Animals Are Passing from Our Lives," (about a pig that refuses to be butchered) as well as a Roald Dahl poem, aptly titled "The Pig." Like many things Dahl produced, it's appropriately grizzly. Oddly enough, an accidental click on "Images" produced a very curious image, and since I don't read Swedish, I have no idea what it's about.
But of all the things that Google spit out, The Love Poems of Honniker Winkley is my favorite. And thus I leave you with Ode to a Swine.
What pig could himself deny
A gently seasoned porky pie?
The glistening splay of roasted snout
The parslied porcine forefoot:
Removed from life, from fat, from flesh
Impartial blade made mince, mince, mince,
Spread out among the crusts to taste
Baked to melt, and melting licked . . .
The silenced throat, the twining tail
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And speaking of pigs good enough to eat, my friends Jim Dunlop and Becky Thistlethwaite at TLC Ranch tell us, "[We're] now taking orders for whole or half pigs in 2006! We are raising 100 pigs this year, about 1/4 will be heritage breeds, and the rest Yorkshire/Hampshire crosses. Two butchering dates of late July and mid-December. $5/lb. hanging weight for a whole pig, $5.25/lb. for half pig. $1/lb. more for heritage breeds. These pigs are raised on rotationally grazed, organic pasture and fed 100% organic feed and vegetable scraps! We will not ship—these are for pickup from Freedom Meat Locker in Watsonville, California." Watch this space for an announcement about TLC Ranch, coming soon.
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THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY: "A peasant becomes fond of his pig and is glad to
salt away its pork. What is significant, and is so difficult for the
urban stranger to understand, is that the two statements are connected
by an and not by a but." —John Berger
"Pigs are not that dirty. And they're smart, strange little creatures. They just need love." —
Shelley Duvall
Thanks for visiting.
we have had many discussions lately about the pig. a recent issue of the new york times claimed the pig to fashionable once again? upscale restaurants are making dishes with pork "haute cuisine" and even bracelets that looked like slices of bacon are wrapping around women's wrists. i am one of those people who has been suspect about eating pork for primarily health reasons, until i tasted a great tenderloin purchased at our local "whole foods" store. i investigated the niman ranch, where whole foods purchases meat, a ranch dedicated to organic and humane practices, and i feel much better about eating pork, but only from this ranch. (nimanranch.com)
Posted by: polly johnson | 16 January 2006 at 12:43 PM
That sounds like a fabulous meal
Posted by: clare eats | 16 January 2006 at 06:27 PM
Oh man, citrus and pork are a match made in heaven. In fact, we had pork with citrus for dinner last night!
I'm going to earmark the recipe you linked to, it looks perfect.
Nothing like pork, that's fer sure.
Biggles
Posted by: Dr. Biggles | 17 January 2006 at 03:59 PM
We raise pigs, sheep, ducks and chickens all on open pasture here in the mountains of Northern Vermont. I'll readily admit I prefer eating meat from our own livestock who are raised humaely under my care without all the chemical additives, meds and the like used in the factory farms. And it feels good knowing what you ate and enjoyed came from here. My wife jokes, maybe half jokes, that we should change the name of our farm to the Happy Pig Farm" instead of Sugar Mountain Farm.
Posted by: Walter Jeffries | 18 January 2006 at 07:40 PM
Thanks for coming to our pig out!
I am really interested in the farm info!
Posted by: divinacucina | 21 January 2006 at 12:10 AM
Thanks for the wonderful recipe. I believe any meat is more healthy for you when raise humanely. Keep up the good work.
Posted by: Rex Morris | 06 July 2006 at 01:33 PM
Long live the PIG! They are so cute and yet soo gooood!
Posted by: Squealin | 16 February 2008 at 04:58 PM
I love pork...as a pig...but I also love farms who treat them well until the final..you know...
Great cooking...and I am glad to see that you are a PIG.
Posted by: Squealin | 16 February 2008 at 05:58 PM
Only real Pigs know a real good pork meal! This is one good one!
Here's to Pigs everywhere!!
Posted by: Squealin | 16 February 2008 at 06:01 PM