Pancetta - the bacon with an attitude.

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.

Gin and Horseradish Cured Salmon

As chaotic and high speed life that we as chefs live, there is ironically something gratifying about watching food develop over time.

In a profession where one expects everything done now, fast and damned anyone that gets in my way, we somehow manage to sit back quietly to admire a process that takes months to complete, and at times after all that waiting the product may even be unusable.

The craft of curing and aging protein and vegetables alike has been around for thousands of years. You begin to gather a sense of accomplishment, a feeling of ‘look at what I have created’, patiently waiting as salt and humidity magically preserve as time would on a well kept bottle of vino. Curing does the same thing a hot flame would - the process of searing, locking in the flavor and preserving. The difference being that it is a much longer practice but in turn stabilizes food for much longer then simply cooking it.

This is how it works: salt drains protein of water (moisture) therefore slowing down the growth of harmful bacteria.

Ingenious process in an era when your refrigerator was winter. Astonishingly delicious however when curing is not what may or may not keep you alive till the spring.

I deeply enjoy putting in time and effort into curing, whether it is fish, meat, or preserving fruits and vegetables. It’s a craft that demands respect, demands understanding and above all patience, a virtue that I am not too familiar with 12 hours each day. The rules are simple yet they must be followed thoroughly, and frankly if they’re not or you decide to skip a step somewhere along the way just remember you may kill someone with your E. coli spiked salami.

Invest in a jar of pink curing salt (fairly inexpensive and available on-line) cheese cloth, some strong kitchen twine, lots of kosher salt and whatever other flavorings you’re absolutely mad about. Raw protein is an excellent vessel for flavor so remember to use herbs and spices wisely, but most importantly have fun with it.

For ideas, recipes and guidance on everything about curing I strongly recommend Charcuterie: The Craft of Salting, Smoking and Curing, by Michael Ruhlman and Brian Polcyn, I keep a copy above my butcher block at all times.

Horseradish and Gin Cured Salmon

6 oz brown sugar (dark or light, depending on preference)
6 oz kosher salt
2 – 3 pound fresh salmon with skin removed
¼ c gin
¾ c horseradish, freshly grated

In a bowl mix sugar, salt, horseradish and gin into a well incorporated paste. Place the skinless salmon in a pan that is just large enough to hold it. When curing meat most instructions will advise not to use a stainless steel pan to minimize chemical reaction. However, because curing fish takes days and not months using a stainless steel pan is quite fine. Rub the paste on both sides of the salmon making sure there is an even coating throughout.

Place another pan on top of the salmon to weigh it down- this will speed up the process by helping the salt extract moisture from the fish. Place some sort of weight on to the top pan, typically I use sealed bags of rock salt, or plates work just fine. Place the entire set up into refrigerator and allow it to do its thing for 48 hours. When the 48 hours are up, check the salmon for softness, if it still feels soft and squishy give it another day. Once the salmon is firm, it has finished curing.

Remove it from the pan and rinse it well under cold water. It is best to use it right away or if properly wrapped it will last for a week or two in the refrigerator. If you do not plan to use it right away, remember that the longer you wait, the milder the gin and horseradish will become.

I simply slice it and serve it with good crusty bread and cracked pepper vinaigrette. But you may treat as you would smoked salmon, perhaps on a bagel with some good champagne for brunch.

Enjoy.