by Edward Lee
I was listening to Temple give a lecture in northern Virginia last year, and one of the things she said to farmers and abattoir owners was quite revolutionary: She encouraged them to take videos of their animal slaughters and post them on the Web. She asked them to be vigilant and transparent about their responsible actions. She urged them to be proud of their efforts and to share them with the public. She made a case for turning the act of slaughtering into a public ritual: from invisibility to an agricultural act.
We killed more than thirty pigs that day at Boone’s. By comparison, a big company like Swift can process more than a thousand pigs an hour. The difference between the two is like that between a small artisan cheese dairy and Kraft. As consumers, it’s easy for us to group them all together under the umbrella of animal killers, but there is a difference when it comes to volume that affects how the animals are handled. Killing the first few pigs was a shock to me. It’s not easy to watch anything die. The pace was fast, but not so fast that I didn’t have time to notice how one pig had ears that were lopsided, how one had a longer tail than the one before it. Maybe it doesn’t matter at that point, but it was a small consolation for me to notice these things.
I’ve been back to Boone’s, and to other abattoirs in the region, and when I occasionally tell people about these experiences, I get a range of reactions, some curious, some disgusted. What’s a chef doing killing animals? Shouldn’t I be in the kitchen? I know I don’t belong in the kill room. But where do I belong? On a farm, picking berries? Behind an expo line shouting orders? In front of a camera, talking nonsense? Or maybe in front of my computer writing about it to give some public voice to a process that generally goes unnoticed, to a group of unnamed pigs who became delicious meals. This is my attempt at an agricultural act.
Rice Bowl with Spicy Pork, Jicama, Cilantro, and Kimchi Rémoulade
I started to make pork sausage patties to mimic the red pork you see in Chinese restaurants. That red pork generally gets its color from food coloring. In my recipe, grated beets give it both the tantalizing color and a sweetness. These sausage patties are good for more than the rice bowl. They make great appetizers for a party. And the kimchi rémoulade can be used on anything from tacos to crab cakes. / Feeds 4 as a main course or 6 as an appetizer
Kimchi Rémoulade
1 teaspoon grated fresh ginger (use a Microplane)
½ cup finely chopped Spicy Napa Kimchi (page 169)
5 tablespoons Perfect Rémoulade (page 6)
Pork Sausage patties
1 pound ground pork
¼ cup red beets, grated
1 garlic clove, grated (use a Microplane)
1 tablespoon Asian sesame oil
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon fish sauce
1 teaspoon sorghum
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon sugar
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
About ¼ cup olive oil for panfrying
4 cups cooked rice (see page 4)
Garnish
5 ounces jicama, peeled and cut into matchsticks (1 cup)
Fresh cilantro sprigs (optional)
1To make the kimchi rémoulade: Mix the ginger with the chopped kimchi in a small bowl. Stir in the rémoulade. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate.
2To make the sausage: Put the ground pork in a large bowl, add all the remaining ingredients, and, using your hands, mix well. Form into small quarter-size patties and place on a baking sheet.
3Heat a large skillet over medium heat. Add about 1 tablespoon olive oil to the pan. Place only as many patties in the pan as will fit comfortably and fry for 3 minutes on each side, until browned. Transfer to a paper-towel-lined plate to drain the fat. Repeat with the remaining patties, adding more oil as needed.
4To serve, scoop the rice into your rice bowls. Place 2 or 3 pork patties over the rice in each bowl and spoon about a tablespoon of the kimchi rémoulade over the pork. Scatter a few pieces of jicama over the sauce and garnish with a few sprigs of cilantro, if using. Serve immediately with spoons. It is best to mix everything together before enjoying.
Curry Pork Pies
When I was a kid, there was a shop on Bayard Street in Chinatown where they used to sell tiny crescent-shaped pork pies for something like 60 cents. The bakery was in an amazing storefront that had been built in the 1960s and never changed. I would sit there with a 50-cent cup of tea and eat their buns and pies until I was stuffed, and it cost me maybe $3. I missed that place so much I created my own version of their pork pie, except I use a Southern piecrust and bake the pies in muffin tins (see step-by-step photographs on the following pages). I make a dozen at a time, and while that may seem like a lot, believe me, these pies don’t last very long. Times change; the place on Bayard Street got a makeover, and I think the pies now sell for a dollar. / Makes 12 individual pies
Filling
½ cup chopped bacon
¾ pound ground pork
¾ cup chopped onions
¼ cup diced green bell pepper
¼ cup diced carrots
1½ tablespoons minced fresh ginger
1 garlic clove, chopped
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
¾ cup chicken stock
2 teaspoons curry powder
2 teaspoons soy sauce
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Piecrust
10 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into cubes and chilled, plus softened butter for the muffin tin
4 cups all-purpose flour
2½ teaspoons kosher salt
⅔ cup cold vegetable shortening
8 to 10 tablespoons ice water
1 large egg
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
2 tablespoons whole milk
1To make the filling: Heat a large cast-iron skillet over high heat. Add the bacon and cook for 3 minutes, or until the bacon is lightly crisped and some of the fat has rendered out. Add the ground pork, onions, bell pepper, carrots, ginger, and garlic and sauté for 5 minutes, or until the vegetables have started to soften and the pork is cooked through.
2Sprinkle the flour over the vegetables and pork and cook, stirring, for 1 minute. Add the chicken stock, curry powder, soy sauce, salt, and pepper, stir well, and cook for about 2 minutes. Has the liquid cooked off but the filling still looks moist? Good. Transfer it to a bowl and let cool in the refrigerator while you make the crust.
3Preheat the oven to 425°F. Grease a 12-cup muffin tin with a little soft butter. Keep chilled in the refrigerator until ready to use.
4To make the piecrust: Measure the flour and salt into a bowl. Add the shortening and butter and, using a fork or your fingers, work them into the flour until you have a granular texture (like cornmeal). If the butter starts to soften, stop and chill the mixture in the refrigerator. Add the water gradually and work it in just until the mixture clumps together to form a wet dough; don’t overwork the dough. Dust with a little extra flour and divide the dough in half. Shape into 2 disks, wrap in plastic wrap, and chill for 30 minutes before rolling out.
5Remove one disk of dough from the fridge and put it on a floured surface. Using a rolling pin, roll the dough to a 15-by-20-inch rectangle about ⅛ inch thick. Using a biscuit cutter or a glass jar, punch out twelve 5-inch rounds of dough, rerolling scraps if necessary. Line the prepared muffin tin with the dough rounds. Make an egg wash by whisking the egg with the oil and milk in a small bowl. Brush the inside of each crust with some of the egg wash to seal it, reserving the remaining egg wash for the top crusts.
6Spoon about 2 tablespoons of the chilled filling into each piecrust.
7Roll out the second disk of dough on the floured surface about ⅛ inch thick. Using a slightly smaller biscuit cutter or a 3-inch ring mold, cut ou
t 12 rounds. Drape a round over each pie and use your fingers to crimp the edges together. Brush the tops with the reserved egg wash. Use a fork to poke holes, or a sharp paring knife to cut an X, in the top of each pie.
8Bake for 15 minutes, or until the pies are puffed and golden; you should see a little bit of the juices bubbling up through the holes. This will make you hungry, so take them out of the oven and let cool for 10 minutes before removing from the tins to prevent them from crumbling. Serve immediately.
Once they have cooled, you can freeze the pies in an airtight container. To reheat, bake at 400°F for 12 to 15 minutes, or until the center is warm.
Roll out the dough and punch out circles.
Line the muffin tin with the dough rounds.
Add the pork filling to the dough.
Top each pie with a smaller round and hand crimp the edges.
Pork Ribs and Sauerkraut with Horseradish
Louisville sits at the intersection of many different cultures. There’s Southern soul food rising up from the south, a German influence coming down from the north, and country cooking spreading from Appalachia. This is a dish that embodies all of these cultures. I serve the ribs with roasted potatoes and pair it with the classic German-style Altbier from Bluegrass Brewing Company in Louisville. / Feeds 4 or 5 as a main course
One 5-pound rack pork spareribs
Rub
4 teaspoons kosher salt
2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons five-spice powder
One 2-pound bag sauerkraut (about 4 cups)
One 12-ounce bottle pilsner beer
2 cups chicken stock
½ cup water
½ cup apple cider
3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
Horseradish Cream
¼ cup prepared horseradish
1 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
1Position a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat the oven to 335°F.
2Using a sharp chef’s knife, slice the rack of ribs into individual ribs.
3To make the rub: Mix together the salt, pepper, and five-spice powder in a small bowl. Use your hands to massage the rub all over the ribs. Now is not the time to be coy—be forceful about it.
4Transfer the ribs to a casserole or a roasting pan. Top with the sauerkraut, juice and all. Add the beer, stock, water, cider, and Dijon mustard. The liquid should just barely cover the ribs: If it doesn’t, add water until it does.
5Cover the roasting pan loosely with aluminum foil and poke holes in the foil with a fork. Transfer to the oven and bake for 1½ hours.
6Remove and discard the aluminum foil. Turn the oven up to 450°F. Return the roasting pan to the oven, uncovered, and bake for about another 30 minutes: When ready, the ribs should be meltingly tender. The sauerkraut will be lightly browned. The braising liquid should be reduced to a delicious jus. If you want a thicker sauce, simply ladle a few cups into a small saucepan and reduce until thickened.
7Meanwhile, make the horseradish cream: Combine all the ingredients in a small bowl and whisk together until smooth. Leave out at room temperature until ready to use.
8Transfer the ribs and sauerkraut to a platter, along with the jus. Serve with the horseradish cream dolloped on top or on the side.
Pork Cracklin’
This is not so much a recipe—it’s just me telling you how I make my cracklin’. There’s nothing difficult about it, but it does require patience. Once done, the cracklin’ can sit out at room temperature for days, but I promise it’ll never last that long. Technically cracklin’ is the skin of the pork belly, but over the years, I’ve made it with every part of the pig. Basically, whatever scraps are left over from butchering and trimming a hog can become cracklin’. Be very careful doing this in your home kitchen: as with any prolonged deep-frying recipe, you have to watch the oil constantly. / Makes 1 quart
2 pounds pork belly skin and other trimmings
1 cup peanut oil, or just enough to cover pork pieces
1 cup lard or bacon fat
Salt
1Freeze the pork skin for at least an hour, not so that it is frozen solid but so that it is at least pretty stiff. Slice into slivers about ¾ inch thick and about 1 inch long.
2Heat the peanut oil and lard in a large cast-iron pot over medium heat to around 340°F. Add the pork a little at a time, making sure not to let the hot oil splash. Monitor and regulate the temperature of the oil so that it doesn’t fall below 300°F and doesn’t go above 350°F. As the pork cooks, it will render more fat. Cook for 20 to 25 minutes, gently turning the pieces of pork, until the pork is floating in the oil. I use a set of long wooden chopsticks to flip the pork, or a pair of long tongs. The cracklin’ should be dark and crispy. Gently scoop the pork out of the oil with a skimmer or slotted spoon and drain on paper towels. Season immediately with salt, nothing else. Let cool to room temperature.
3Store the cracklin’ in jars or resealable plastic bags at room temperature.
Brined Pork Chops with Peach-Ginger Glaze
This is one of those homemade dinners that will make you feel like you’re dining out. Since you can make the brine the night before, go ahead and make the glaze and the gremolata then too. The next day, all you’ll have to do is cook the pork and pull it all together. (The glaze and the gremolata will both keep for up to a week in the fridge.) Serve with Parsnip and Black Pepper Biscuits (page 206), if you like.
One of my favorite beers in all the land is Lazy Magnolia’s Southern Pecan Nut Brown Ale, and it has never tasted better than with this dish. / Feeds 4 as a main course
Brine
1 cup gin
2 cups water
¼ cup kosher salt
3 tablespoons sorghum
3 tablespoons brown sugar
Four 1-inch-thick pork loin chops (about 11 ounces each)
Glaze
3 peaches
¼ cup dry white wine
2 teaspoons grated fresh ginger (use a Microplane)
2 teaspoons honey
Pinch each of salt and freshly ground black pepper
Pistachio Gremolata
1 cup pistachios
¼ cup dried bread crumbs
Grated zest of 1 lemon
1½ tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1½ teaspoons olive oil
1 teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil
1To make the brine: Bring the gin to a boil in a small saucepan over medium heat and boil until reduced to about ¼ cup. Add the remaining ingredients and stir over low heat just to dissolve the brown sugar. Take off the heat and allow to cool to room temperature.
2Place the pork chops in a gallon-size resealable plastic bag and pour the cooled brine into the bag. Close the bag and brine the pork chops in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours, or up to 24 hours.
3To make the glaze: Peel the peaches, cut each peach in half, and remove the pit. Cube the flesh and transfer to a small saucepan. Add the wine, ginger, honey, and salt and pepper, bring to a simmer, and cook for 10 minutes, or until the peaches are very soft. Let cool for about 15 minutes.
4Transfer the peaches and liquid to a blender and puree on high until smooth. The smell of the sweet peaches and ginger should fill the room. Transfer to a bowl and refrigerate until ready to use.
5To make the gremolata: Combine all the ingredients in a food processor and pulse about 10 times to a rough paste; you can also grind them in a mortar with the pestle. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
6Preheat the oven to 400°F.
7Remove the pork chops fro
m the brine (discard the brine) and pat dry with paper towels. Heat the olive oil in a large cast-iron skillet over medium heat. Add the pork chops and cook for 3 minutes on each side, until browned and nicely caramelized.
8Brush a dollop of the peach glaze over each pork chop. Sprinkle a generous even layer of the gremolata over the glaze. Transfer the pan to the oven and bake for 12 to 14 minutes, until the pork is cooked to medium-rare. The juices should run clear when a chop is pierced with a knife close to the bone. The glaze will be set and the gremolata should look just a shade brown and crunchy on top. Let the cooked chops rest in the pan for 5 minutes.
9Carefully transfer the pork chops to plates and serve immediately.
Chicken-Fried Pork Steak with Ramen Crust and Buttermilk Pepper Gravy
I love anything that is “chicken-fried.” It sounds so redneck, but to me it’s a Southern version of the famous Japanese dish called tonkatsu, which uses panko bread crumbs, a sweeter version of regular bread crumbs. Tonkatsu is Japan’s version of the breaded and fried pork cutlet that came there from Europe in the late nineteenth century. It always fascinates me to see how different cultures latch onto a simple concept and interpret it uniquely. The bottom line is we all love meat that is pounded, breaded, and fried. I use dried ramen noodles as the crust; it sounds nuts but it is crazy good.