LE FRITTOLE: Calabrian Pig Boil - Frank Mazzuca - Family Style HD

LE FRITTOLE: Calabrian Style Pig Boil - Frank Mazzuca - FamilyStyle TRADITION It was all quite rustic, which seemed to be an integral part of the experience—a getting in touch with tradition. They mostly ate in an unfinished basement that was set up with a wood-burning oven and curing area. There are still countless Italian expressions from the entire length of the peninsula attesting to the historical importance of the pig, many highlighting the concept that the entire animal was consumed in one way or another. For example: Del maiale niente va perduto. (Nothing of the pig is lost.) Del maiale non si butta via nulla. (Nothing of the pig is thrown away.) The cold months are the most popular for a pig slaughter. Christmas and New Years holidays provide an excellent excuse, but the most precarious time in the life of a Calabrian pig is during the period of Mardi Gras, or Carnevale in Italian. In Reggio, the pig boil is also featured for the Festival of the Madonna that is celebrated with processions in September and November. LE FRITTOLE So what does “frittole” mean? Wikipedia lists four options: an imaginary Tuscan town in a 1984 film of Roberto Begnini, a Venetian donut (variation of frittelle), a veal-based street food from Palermo (also frittola and frittula), and finally a pork dish typical of Reggio Calabria (frittuli in Reggio dialect). Italian is complicated, but clearly, I’m dealing with the latter, pork cooked in its own fat. The preparation involves a large caldron. In Reggio, butcher shops set up the oversized stainless steel-covered copper containers on the sidewalks in front of their stores. I’ve been told the charcoal-burning type is the best. The process begins in the wee hours of the morning, long before the crack of dawn, but perhaps not quite as early as the average baker starts his day. The first step is to melt the fat. Then, the animal parts that require a longer cooking time go into the caldron—the feet, the snout and the ears, for instance. At this point, I have been told that a little water is added, the specific amount depending on the particular beast on hand. Some say, however, that the pig should only simmer in its pure fat. Whichever the method, the concoction bubbles slowly for many hours, a minimum of six, but longer is better—7, 8 or 10, such that even the cartilage and other lesser-prized parts become edible. Components requiring less cooking time are added later in the process, with salt being the only seasoning. I knew what le frittole looked like, and I was quite familiar with the taste of the fatty pork dish. For some reason, however, I didn’t put two and two together that the soft, shiny, opaque, fatty, slightly gummy matter that featured so prominently was the skin. Perhaps if I had consumed more cracklin’ in my life, I wouldn’t have confused it for some sort of fat, although this moderately squishy substance didn’t have much in common with the packaged pork rinds I’d sampled. Completely different