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majority. We were going to have
to teach ourselves how to cook,
cure and render. We’d be moving
beyond simple pork chops and
sausages. We’d be tackling
pig heads, fresh liver, trotters,
kidneys, mountains of fat and, of
course, the tail. We learned that
the homestead hog offers all this
bounty and only asks one thing in
return: that we make its sacrifice
our pleasure. In other words, that
we develop the skills to cook or
cure the innards and extremities
so we could enjoy them, not just
tolerate them.
In the years since our first
homestead hog, we have sought
to honour our pigs in that way.
Our first prosciutto was too salty.
The first batch of rendered fat
into lard was melted at too high
a temperature. The headcheese
failed to impress the office. But
2019’s sausages are incredible.
The country liver pistachio pâté
was absolutely delightful. The
soups and stocks made from our
trotters, hocks and bones have
nourished our family all winter.
The burden of the hog bounty
has stretched our palates. It has
squashed our squeamishness.
It has forced us to revive
lost culinary arts. And it has
blessed us with truly delectable
salubrious treats—worthy of
sharing in the office lunchroom. H