no secret to my tiny audience and meat-friends, that i enjoy food. making it, sharing it, eating it, exploring it, discovering it. nurture v. nature, dunno, but growing up most of my family was the same. holiday tables groaned with food, and those meals lasted hours. much of the spirit was the always animated and convicted conversation, (sell it!) where table-pounding for emphasis wasn't unusual. (only at home, yo!) dinner was always together, and pre-net it wasn't unheard of to leap up and seize the "world almanac", that stone-age data go-to. it's why i hate the tv on during meals. blabbing heads on the screen? the exact opposite of meal-time: a few moments, separate from the world, to savor and share both the food and one another.
culinary school quickly led me to fine-dining employment. the talent and vision of many of the chefs for whom i worked still staggers.
some people go bowling. (so i've heard.) my friends and i go out. in a small town like this, with an incestuous industry like mine, it's nearly impossible to go unnoticed in even the most unlikely spots. but! that's part of the fun.
on a second visit in 2 weeks' time to a new place (yeah, it's that good, i CANNOT wait to go back AND i love the owners) it was the simplest detail that blew us away. the bartender brought out a basket of rustic killer bread from iggy's. beside it, a little plate with 2 types of salt, a tiny sprig of thyme and a ramekin of spread. "this is pig butter." our eyes went wide. barely tinged green in color and the texture, of, well, i guess, lard. some on my plate and bit of bread. i don't know that i've ever had something so small be so succulent. we tried it with the salts. we dipped it in the ephemeral carbonara sauce. heaven. we had to praise the owner in a "we're not worthy" moment. it was simply rendered pig fat and extra virgin olive oil. the reason i didn't get any in the first week? they hadn't cooked enough suckling pigs yet to get the "butter" ball rolling.
2 ingredients, not even a major component of a meal, and i've been talking about it for days. we went to visit another friend's place after, and i sipped my gigondas extra slowly to savor the mouthfeel of the pig butter and see how long it would linger. (long time, yeah, love you long time.) our porky euphoria made c. swear he'd make the pilgrimage the next night.
having been at this a long time, i know plenty of people would be grossed out thinking of pig fat on their bread. only because they're not making the leap of what the hell that crunchy bacon is all about on their blt.
lucky me, for me and mine, we just want more.
not to be daunted, i need to make it. it's beginning to look a lot like christmas! have you been very good, or very bad?
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