Hog Killin’ Time

It’s hog-killin time at Rob***o* Ranch. You probably don’t know this, but sometimes when talking to myself I refer to wherever I live as R-- (my full name) Ranch. Having never owned any livestock, I know it’s a bit odd. But last week it was strangely apt. I bought a pound of “leaf lard” from a farm, and you have to “render it yourself.” Basically it’s the fattest part of a pork belly. Why I wanted it, I’m not too sure. I think I like the idea of making a pie crust without any butter, but the lard you get at the store is just somehow scary and unwholesome. Not like this special pastured pig fat I got, it was extremely unprocessed. All you have to do is chop it into small pieces and melt it in a heavy pot over low heat. It takes a little while. As it melted, I ladled it out and strained it through a folded paper towel I fastened over a jar with a rubber band. At first it was golden brown oil, but after being in the refrigerator overnight it was solid and white. Mmm! Once the leaf lard had all melted, there were brown crispy bits of skin or something left. I was going to throw them out, but then I remembered from the instructions I’d read on the internet that they were called “cracklins” and you could salt them up and eat them as snacks. That doesn’t really appeal, I have to admit. “Cracklins, eh?” I thought. “That rings a bell.” And I remembered something called “cracklin’ bread.” (Not to be confused with “shortnin’ bread.”) Sho’ nuff, I found the recipe in White Trash Cooking for “Big Mamma’s Cracklin Corn Pone.” I quote from this classic work: “Cracklins are the skins and other pieces left after the rendering of pork fat at hog-killing time (in the Fall after the first cold snap).” I guess I killed my hog a little early in the year, but I tried it anyway. Um, why I thought “skins and other pieces,” cornmeal and milk would have some sort of gestalt effect and become unutterably delicious, I’m not sure. It didn’t. It was ok, but in sort of a penitence-type way. Especially the third day.