CRACKLINS

A rendezvous at the Davis Farmers market with John Bledsoe produced a beautiful thirteen pound Duroc cross bred pork belly. This swine undercarriage will be transformed into some home cured, with salt, maple syrup and apple wood smoke, bacon. My personnel preference is to make bacon without the rind or skin. It will retain more smoke and it is easier to slice. Mr. Bledsoe does not have a rind removing machine so our rind was intact. Luckily, we have very sharp knives. The skin was removed and it seemed like such a waste to toss it in the trash barrel. Let’s make some cracklins.


This will be a Mad Meat Genius first. Some research was done on the World Wide Web and some general guidelines and recipes were found. Everybody has their version and methods but some general rules should be followed. They are not called Cracklins for nothing. This is only fried pig skin but when they are cooking they sputter, pop and splash very hot pig oil all over the place. There also is a very unique odor that will be generated from this cauldron of bubbling piggy fat. Unless you want your house to smell of this odor it is a good idea to cook it outside. A heavy thick pot, black iron for us, will help with the cooking. We decided to cook our cracklins outside in our large cast iron pot on a portable propane stove. We also had a fire extinguisher and a water hose standing by. The rind was cut into large squares and simmered in their own rendered fat until puffy and crisp. While still hot and glistening with fat they were dusted with kosher salt.


You know, cracklins are a guilty pleasure that must be experienced. Salty, crispy and an addicting pork flavor will be your reward for your effort. Some pieces had a little meat attached to the crispy fried skin. This was an added bonus to our porky fried snack. I am patting myself on the back for cooking them outside. Be very cautious if you attempt to cook cracklins because very, very hot fat will try to splatter you. Stay tuned for more bacon.

LOIN & BELLY PORK ROAST

While glancing through one of my 'Food Porn' magazines, a loin & belly roast was found. A pork belly was tied to a bone- in loin roast. It was roasted in a hot oven. This was the lightbulb above my head. Of course, my roast would have to be done in the barbeque. This sounded like pure poetry. It was off to the International market for a pork belly. They did not have a bone-in loin roast, so another meat stop would have to be made. The local Wally Mart had the whole loin roast. The butcher was more than happy to cut a 5 pound prime roast for me.

Once home, the meat was rinsed and trimmed to fit each other like they were intended. A liberal dose of salt and pepper was the only seasoning this beauty would need. I tied the two hunks of meat with some cotton string. The rind was sliced at 1 inch intervals and then my baby was placed in the ice cave. Several hours later it was time to fire up the Weber.

The roast would be cooked on a high indirect heat. A drip pan was placed between the two stacks of coals. A little peach wood was the smoking wood used tonight. I wanted to cook this roast above 400 degrees for over an hour. My goal was to get the internal temperature to 150 degrees. An hour and 25 minutes went by very quickly. The temperature was at 150 degrees. Time to take it out and let it rest.

Their was a camera malfunction. No shots of the slice pork today. I will do my best to describe our porkapalooza dinner. The rind on the roast was beautiful. It was a glossy amber sight to see. It tasted like the best cracklin's I have ever had. The actual belly was a glob of meat and pork fat.The fat was oozing everywhere. It was very very rich. It was a little too rich for my taste. It did not have the bacon flavor that we all know and love. The actual loin was a little pink by the bone. It tasted just like "butta". It was so moist and tender. This meat cradled by a pork belly was pure heaven. This was a fun experiment. It is hard to go wrong with pork, fire and smoke. Just make sure you have a back up camera for the money shot.