The price of pig

I'm going to date myself. Way back in the middle of the last century, when we were growing up on a farm in Pennsylvania, a ham was a big deal.  Now we can get so much meat for just a few dollars. Guess we have unsavory factory farms to thank.

We raised a pig each year for family consumption, and Mom kept a slop bucket in the kitchen where she threw all the leftovers, peels, etc. Pigs will eat anything with relish.  The pig was carefully butchered in the fall.  As they say, "everything but the oink." The lard was rendered for pie and cooking; sausage and scrapple made with all the bits.

But the real prize were the hams. Only two precious hams per pig, along with the "picnic hams" (shoulder.)  They went into the little smokehouse in the backyard, along with the bacon. I still remember how that wonderful smell perfumed the whole farm for a few weeks.  We were not supposed to open the door, but of course we peeked inside.  The smokehouse looked something like this.

Ham was so special, I don't remember Mom or Grammy cooking a whole one very often. It was used to make many meals instead. The hams hung in the attic or basement, and Mom would cut off slices with a hacksaw to fry.  And folks, that's just how old I am.

Speaking of pigs, whatever possessed me to buy a healthy pork fillet "with apple wood smoked bacon?" I couldn't see all that bacon on the underside of the package. What an indulgent piece of meat.

Oh well, out of respect for the pig, we had to eat it.  (ha ha)  Of course it roasted up absolutely scrumptious.  As chef, carver, and server, it was impossible not to pinch up many tasty bits before it even got to the table.  Once a farm girl, always a farm girl.  

The meal was redeemed somewhat by this cabbage salad. The dressing is a simple vinaigrette, but I added a finely diced honey crisp apple that gave it a nice sweet crunch.  I think even fussy kids would like it.

See you Monday...