No, no, we haven’t misconstrued the “Slow-Food” movement. Rather we’ve taken it quite literally, as we’ve taken the “Farm to Table” concept quite literally. I won’t profess to know the origins of these nouveau-retro catch phrases, though I picture a white guy, ...on a bike,... at a farmers market,...in Portland.
I do think, though, they are noble endeavors albeit financially difficult from a restaurateur perspective. So when we are given a unique opportunity to actually actualize our best intentions, why not go for it? So we did. We bought a pair of piglets at 7 weeks old and are raising them in Barboursville with the intention of taking them to slaughter weight of around 250lbs. To be fair, Jarrett does all the work since they are on his farm. I actually had a whole Portland-esque self-congratulatory spiel about the nobility of our undertaking but it tasted too much like irony. So without further ado, allow me to introduce to you, Mr. Wiggles and Doobie:
Mr. Wiggles and Doobie are Durocs. Come June, they will be Pork, in all the manifestations that we can conjure up. Smoked bacon, pate de tete, seared trotters, pork rinds (bar menu), grilled pork loin, braised belly, fennel sausage, prosciutto, and whatever else Michael Ruhlman suggests in his compendium Charcuterie: The Craft of Salting, Smoking, and Curing.
Details to follow.