Porky products and olive bread

Before I begin. Let me first apologise to my more-squeamish followers. This post is not for fainthearted foodies. I can promise my next post, which should be published later on, is more benign and much prettier.

So anyway, I have acquired a whole pig that has been shared with my parents. I love a bargain and I am a great believer in filling the freezer for emergencies so when my local butcher offered me a deal, I couldn't resist.

Let me place this pork fetish into context; we are ex-pig keepers. A few years ago, my dad and I kept a pig each on a neighbour's bit of land and we did indeed utilise everything but its oink. We butchered it ourselves and turned it into all manner of porky products, such as black pudding, homemade sausages, pork pies, bacon, brawn and conventional roasting joints. Ever since then, we have wanted to keep pigs again but while our house is perfect for vegetables and chickens, there are no rough pieces of land suitable for pigs. Our kind butcher offered to cut the pig up how we wanted it and promised me he would keep the head whole.

 

Peggy and Nettles; our first experience of pig keeping

Now you may wonder why anyone in their right mind would even begin to want to deal with a pig's head. In many ways even I wouldn't bother, but I was determined to give it a try. As a keen collector of vintage cookbooks, I had perused many old country recipes that use part, if not all of a pig's head and curiosity had got the better of me. In addition to the head, I asked for the offal, trotters and bones so nothing would be wasted.

 

It's all gone a bit Lord of the Flies in our kitchen

I sat the head in the centre of the kitchen while I pondered what to do with it and set about boiling up the bones to make little pots of jellied pork stock for the freezer. 

 

 

I filled a large stock pot with bones, trotters, onions, juniper berries and seasoning and let the whole lot simmer for 6 hours.  The end result was poured into little plastic containers and stacked in my freezer for when I make pork pies or pea soup in the winter.

 

 

Meanwhile I decided to boil the head before roasting to ensure all the inside bits had cooked properly. I think it looks quite endearing with its head partly submerged in a bath of stock. 

 

Whilst the end product of roasted pig's head doesn't win any prizes for presentation, it was very delicious. The pig's cheeks or more traditionally named 'bath chaps' were enjoyed by our guests. The flavour is very sweet and the meat a lovely porky contrast of very white and very dark meat. The crispy ears were also popular like a crunchy pork scratching. The leftover meat that we and our adventurous dinner party guests didn't manage to finish was mashed up with onion and herbs and turned into potted pork-perfect for spreading on toast.

 

 

 In addition to the roasted head, I made a big pan of smokey ham and pea soup for a starter and froze the rest in portion-sized batches.

 

 

 

To accompany the soup and a pate that I was planning, I knocked up a quick olive bread.

Simply throw in 2 chopped cloves of garlic, 3 heaped tablespoons of sliced black olives and a large tablespoon of olive oil into your regular white bread dough. On the second rise, score the top of the loaf and scatter with chopped rosemary and a dusting of flour. I think these rosemary flowers look very pretty-such a shame they won't survive the oven.

 

 

This loaf has a lovely Mediterranean flavour and a good consistency. 

 

 

This pork liver pate was very easy to make.

 

 Put a very fresh pork liver (free of sinews) and a large handful of chopped belly pork into the food processor with 1 onion and 2 cloves of garlic and blend until smooth.

Place into a bowl and add a good handful breadcrumbs and a small glass of port or brandy. Mix well.

Line a loaf tin with streaky bacon and pack the pate mixture inside. Wrap the bacon around the top and lay a sheet of greaseproof paper on top. Wrap in tin foil and place in an oven tray containing about 1 inch of water. Bake in a medium oven for 2-3 hours until the top feels firm and springy. When cooled, turn on to a pretty plate and garnish. Serve with the olive bread. 

 

This is just a little insight into what I have done with the by-products of our bargain pig. While I wouldn't go into a butcher's shop and buy a pig's head out of choice, I feel quite confident in making sure this perfectly economical cut is not wasted if we ever keep our own pigs again. If you ever see pig's cheeks on the menu in a trendy Norfolk gastro pub, I strongly recommend you give them a try.