Charcuterie; Taken from the French term for “cooker of meat.” Considered a French culinary art, referring to products of meat, particularly (but not limited to) pork specialties. This according to the Food Lover’s Companion.
I’m on a salt kick! Absolutely mad this time of year about salting and preserving anything fresh I can get my hands on. Perhaps natural instincts of winter coming on, maybe I’m just hungry for salty tad-bits of aged animal products. Once roaming the open range (or at least I hope so), but now hung neatly in a curing box waiting for their début. For the next few issues of H2T I will share recipes mainly dealing with Charcuterie.
But first let’s talk about the elephant in the room.
I’m not going to be the one to claim that American curing practices and understanding of charcuterie is inferior to countries where the products originate, but I am going to state that there is something wrong with the American public’s lack of appreciation for what is good in its natural form. After all this is a country where they tried to breed fatless pigs… pigs, fatless? The only creature who has the right to bask gloriously in its obesity and moreover adored for its fat and they tried to take that from it.
My point being- if one can’t understand the natural being of beasts and all other things food related, one cannot produce products of superior quality.
The over salting of American cured product I have always found a bit suspicious. Is it that something is known about the meat when it goes in for the slaughter? Ashamed that animals don’t taste of pig, beef, sheep, as they should and therefore attempt on making that up with disguises of smoke and over salting- perhaps so. Whatever the case, I’m not expecting my ranting to fix the problem, I just feel obligated by profession to state a disproval of certain practices (mainly all) within the meat industry.
But not all is lost, the good guys are still out there – remember the scary butcher with the lazy eye out to kill anything cute and fluffy?- he’s out there and he is very much on the front lines. Bit by bit the American public is coming around to the idea of meat in its natural form. Perhaps much due to the obsession with the food profession chefs are now able to be heard and people are listening.
Now that that’s out, let us get on with Pancetta- bacon with an attitude.
She’s totally stuck up and frankly why shouldn’t she be. Made from only pork belly, pancetta is dry cured and spiced with anything from nutmeg to garlic and beyond, each region in the Italian country side clinging to their own version. Unlike the English and American bacon which are smoked for enhanced aroma, pancetta is often rolled and hung, gently developing flavor over the course of a few months.
The smell of this stuff hanging in a cold cellar is fantastic, reeking of cracked peppercorns and herbs. My mother’s father would hang it next to his fermenting wine, giving the meat a musky yet wonderful almost wine settlement like taste. Once fully cured, its uses are limitless.
Luckily, I had enough pork belly to make two separate batches. The first I decided to keep old school, seasoned with peppercorns and herbs such as parsley and sage (just so happened that was what I had on hand). The second batch, featured below, is a port and crushed chili pancetta which I first brined in port wine and later cured with the dried chili – I used dry as to not introduce any more moisture to the pork belly as it attempted to cure.
Port and Chili Pancetta
3 lbs. pork belly
For the brine:
¼ c kosher salt
¼ c brown sugar
3 qt port wine (don’t waste the top shelf stuff on this)
For the dry cure:
1 tablespoon kosher salt
2 tablespoon brown sugar
2 teaspoon pink salt (curing agent)
¼ - ½ cup crushed red chili
To prepare the pork belly, trim access meat and fat slabs that are hanging on, and square it off into a neatly trimmed rectangle.
Combine the port, sugar and salt into a pot and at medium heat stir until all the sugar and salt have dissolved completely. Keep cooking until the port begins to simmer. At this point with a great deal of caution, ignite the port to evaporate all the alcohol out of the wine. The reason I ask you to do this is because alcohol goes sour and over time will affect the pork belly. By igniting it and getting rid of the actual alcohol you are left with only pure port, all the alcohol has burned out when the flame subsides.
Remove the brine from the heat and allow for it to cool to room temperature, this is especially important as you don’t want to place the meat into hot brine, essentially cooking it.
Submerge the pork belly entirely into the brine in a container large enough to hold it. Place in the refrigerator and allow if to mingle for 24 hours. Meanwhile you may mix all of the dry cure ingredients together. When the brining is complete, remove the pork belly and discard the liquid (I am not a fan of using brines more than once, the brine gets cloudy with meat settlement and I find that they’re concentration weakens to a point where you’ll never get the same results) pat dry and evenly spread the dry cure over the whole thing on both sides.
Place in a non reactive container with a lid (one big enough for the belly to lay flat with the flesh side up) and store in the refrigerator for about a week or until the flesh feels firm throughout. Rinse the belly under cold water removing as much of the dry cure as possible, don’t worry you will not be able to remove every speck of seasoning and the belly will be stained from the brine and spice rub. Pat dry.
Now comes the hard part- Lay the pork belly flat and as tightly as you can roll into a cylinder, fat side out, securing it with kitchen twine. Hang it in a cool dry spot with a relatively good amount of humidity (Louisiana’s winter is great for this) for no less than 3 weeks and up to 3 months. The humidity level is important so that as your pancetta cures it does not become dry and brittle, but moist and firm.
I use an old restaurant wine chiller as a curing box, which I have gutted out and set on its highest temperature, but your refrigerator should work as well if you’re not feeling comfortable having cured meats hanging in your guest bedroom closet.
Enjoy.
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