Atticus Finch
Call Me a Cab
- Messages
- 2,718
- Location
- Coastal North Carolina, USA
Friends Bill, Jack and I took advantage of the recent cold weather in North Carolina to smoke some pig. My girlfriend Jackie photographed the whole process, but please let me warn you---if you're prone to heart trouble, don't look. Just seeing these pictures will surely raise your blood pressure.
Last Saturday we got up early and started salting the hams and side meat. The temperature outside was only ten degrees when we got to the cook shack on Bill's farm. The hard work warmed us up pretty quickly, though. Please excuse my silly Cabellas headwear. Salting pork is a messy job and I didn't want to risk one of my better hats.
Bacon, ready to be salted.
For whatever reason, Jack decided not to wear his gloves. I'm not sure it was a good choice---by the end of the day his ears were ringing from the salt he'd absorbed.
In addition to coating the hams with salt and other minerals, we also inject them with a brine that we make from salt, nitrates and spices. The second photo, below, is the wicked "Dr." Bill and his terrible pork injector.
Here's Bill's smoke house. This weekend is much warmer than last and today we took the bacon (side meat) down after two day's smoking. The hams we salted last Saturday will continue to cure in the brine until mid-February. Then we'll hang them in the smoke house to smoke for three to five days. After that, they'll cure over the summer and we'll slice them in the first cool days of autumn. Like fine wine, good county ham can't be rushed. By the way, the smokin' wood we use is a secret combination of green hickory, apple and oak.
Finally, these jars contain pure, heart-clogging lard that we rendered from the pork leavings. Anything---including a rusty car bumper---would taste pretty darn good if it were fried in this stuff.
AF
Last Saturday we got up early and started salting the hams and side meat. The temperature outside was only ten degrees when we got to the cook shack on Bill's farm. The hard work warmed us up pretty quickly, though. Please excuse my silly Cabellas headwear. Salting pork is a messy job and I didn't want to risk one of my better hats.
Bacon, ready to be salted.
For whatever reason, Jack decided not to wear his gloves. I'm not sure it was a good choice---by the end of the day his ears were ringing from the salt he'd absorbed.
In addition to coating the hams with salt and other minerals, we also inject them with a brine that we make from salt, nitrates and spices. The second photo, below, is the wicked "Dr." Bill and his terrible pork injector.
Here's Bill's smoke house. This weekend is much warmer than last and today we took the bacon (side meat) down after two day's smoking. The hams we salted last Saturday will continue to cure in the brine until mid-February. Then we'll hang them in the smoke house to smoke for three to five days. After that, they'll cure over the summer and we'll slice them in the first cool days of autumn. Like fine wine, good county ham can't be rushed. By the way, the smokin' wood we use is a secret combination of green hickory, apple and oak.
Finally, these jars contain pure, heart-clogging lard that we rendered from the pork leavings. Anything---including a rusty car bumper---would taste pretty darn good if it were fried in this stuff.
AF
