Odd Food—The Pig Trotter pt. 1: An introduction
The principles of French cooking make the best of a bad situation. The realization of French cooking is that there is almost no bad situation.
- Ben
There is an easy way to tell when you call a butcher or meat counter if the individual on the other end of the line is someone worth their weight in veal sweetbreads:
Ask if they sell pig trotters. You will get one of three answers:
1. “Yes.” You have found a butcher. Then ask, “Are they frozen?” If they say “Yes”, you have found a decent butcher for steaks and other obvious cuts of meat. Their first answer should have been, “Yes,” *little mumbles of disappointment* “but they are frozen.” In that case you have found a good butcher who gets this call three times a year.
If you ask if they are frozen and they say “No...” with a slightly smug, possibly condescending tone, you have found an excellent butcher who is well-known as the person from whom to get good things. This individual can find you damn near anything you want, in great condition, will tart it up for you if you don’t have time to deal with it yourself, and probably won’t fleece you. You will pay a little extra than Whole Foods, but whatever. Whole Foods can kiss your ass, and you know where you can buy a nice, fresh cut for them to kiss: your new favorite butcher shop.
2. “No.” Eh. Welcome to a post-meatpocolyptic world where the war between man and the processing machines has rendered most parts of the animal extinct, and reduced the esophagus of humanity to nothing more than a shunt for breast meat and steak. To be fair, this very well could be a decent to excellent butcher who is also a realistic businessperson. If they follow it up with “...but we can order them for you”, go back to number 1 and negotiate from there.
3. “What?” Perhaps they are hard of hearing. Or your cell service is bad. Or you were eating a mouthful of cheese and didn’t speak clearly. Say “pig trotters” again and spit the syllables into the phone like an opera singer, with a tone that insinuates you assume this to be pedestrian conversation with any real butcher. If they say anything but “Yes”, “No”, or “Let me check, we got a delivery in yesterday but I don’t know if...”, hang up. Also, don’t say “goodbye”. There was nothing good about that, and “bye” was implied.
What is a pig trotter?
A pig trotter is the lower part of a pig’s leg from the mostly meatless stump below the hock to the toes. A pig’s leg is built thusly:
Take note that this is a hind leg. Trotters can be from both the front and hind legs, but the back trotters are bigger. However, don't be a difficult prick about this; be thankful you can actually get them, and unless the butcher's an idiot they will give you the biggest trotters they have because they are sold by weight.
The delights of the fresh trotter:
A fresh trotter is the flavor of pork at its very best and most natural. First of all, it’s covered in fresh pig skin that looks healthy. Well, not so much for the actual pig which is dead, but relatively speaking. It may have a slit along the underside from where the pig was hung to be butchered, but don’t worry about that.
Most importantly, the exposed meat on the upper end should feel like your forearm just above the elbow. It should look like rosy fresh pork, not grey, and may be slightly bloody. There will be blood in the tips of the toes and ideally it won’t look very dried out, although the tips themselves will look dried. Finally, all pig trotters have some bristles on them. If the bristles look scorched (not the skin), someone already put in a modest effort to do a job you’ll have to finish regardless: singeing them clean with a blowtorch.
I suppose you could use a lighter instead of a blowtorch. Yes. You could do that...unless you also like creme brulee, toasted merengue, and many other wonderful things. Seriously, don’t be a wuss; go to Bed Bath and Beyond and buy one.
The "It's fine" of the frozen trotter:
It’s fine.
Defrost under cold water forever, and if some asshole didn’t take a hoof off, get rid of it.
The difference:
Here’s the deal. We’re going to bone this pig trotter out, braise it, and stuff it with tasty things. A good, fresh trotter will make this job easy, taste wonderful, and have a fantastically soft and delicious consistency. The frozen trotter is a bit of a pain in the ass, more prone to puncturing because the skin isn’t so supple, and will be perfectly tasty but a little rubbery. Experiment with the frozen first if you count your pennies, and if you like the taste go after the fresh trotter. Remember: this is braised, buttery skin we’re talking about here, and most people aren’t used to eating it. Don't be surprised if it's not your thing. However, if you like the frozen, the fresh trotter is a miracle on the plate.
Arts and Culture, Food: The Game Birds—The Quail
Arts and Culture, Food: The Game Birds—An Introduction
Arts and Culture, Food: Odd Food—Escargot
Arts and Culture, Food: Odd Food—The Oxtail
Arts and Culture, Food: Odd Food—My Fridge Full of Crap
Arts and Culture, Food: Odd Food—The Compost Bin
Arts and Culture, Food: Odd Food—Pig Trotter pt. 3
Arts and Culture, Food: Odd Food—Pig Trotter pt. 2
Arts and Culture, Food: Odd Food—Pig Trotter pt. 1
Arts and Culture, Food: Odd Food—Squid Ink
Arts and Culture, Food: Odd Food—The Octopus