Rendering Lard

As I noted in my previous post, the overweight hog we sent to the butcher recently produced---in addition to a freezer full of pork---more than 75 lbs. of fat, which I have been rendering into lard.

The first question people ask when I tell them I've been rendering lard all week, is:  "Why?  No health-conscious person cooks with lard anymore, do they?"  In fact, that's not the case at all.  As described in these various articles, lard is a lot healthier than most people think:

Lard:  The New Health Food
Lard Has Clearly Won the Health Debate
Praise the Lard
Lard:  After Decades of Trying, Its Moment Is Finally Here
Trans Fatty Acids:  Why Lard May Be Better for You Than Vegetable Oil

Of course, even with the unexpected benefits, I'm not planning to eat 75 lbs. of lard this year!  Some of it I'll save for cooking, but the majority I'll make into soap.

Lard soap is mild and gentle to the skin, and it will be great to have some "zero mile" fat for soap making (as opposed to the olive oil I use to make my sheep's milk soap, which is imported from thousands of miles away).  I'll still keep making the olive oil based soap, since it's been very popular, but the natural farmstead lard soap will give buyers an additional option.  Choice is good!

Anyway, since a lot of people have never rendered lard before, I figured I'd show the process, step by step, here on the blog.  Rendering isn't difficult, but it does take a while, so you have to be patient.

Since I had such a huge amount of lard to render, I had to do it one portion at a time over several days, according to how much would fit into my largest stock pot.

Our hog was very large and very obese, so he produced 22.5 lbs. of leaf lard and 53 lbs. of back fat lard.  The leaf lard is the internal fat from around the pig's kidneys.  It is considered the highest quality lard, since it's said to have a finer texture and a more neutral flavor than the back fat lard.

Here is one of the slabs of leaf lard from our pig.  We got two slabs this size.

 

The slabs of back fat were even larger.  Folded over themselves and stacked together, they filled an entire banana box!

The first step was to cut off chunks of fat that were a more convenient size to handle.  Here's a chunk of back fat, ready for me to start processing.

 

To get a neutral (not so porky) flavor to my lard, I trimmed off all the little scraps of meat.  Then I cut the fat into little chunks, maybe about 1" square.

The discarded scraps of fatty meat made a VERY popular snack for my chickens!

 

To begin the rendering process, I put a couple of inches of water in the bottom of my largest stock pot, then filled the rest of the pot with cut-up chunks of fat.  I heated the pot on the stove top until it started to boil, then reduced the heat to a low simmer.  

The water in the bottom of the pot helps prevent the fat from sticking before it has a chance to melt.  By the time the rendering is finished, all the water will have evaporated away.  

You do need to stir the pot (less in the beginning and more frequently toward the end), to prevent the solids from sticking to the bottom and burning on.  

 

Almost immediately after the boiling started, the fat changed color and began to get translucent.

 

Little by little, the chunks of fat started to release quantities of melted liquid lard.

 

 

For a while, the liquid in the pot was a milky whitish color.  It was at this point that the pot began to need more frequent stirring, because the solids started sinking to the bottom.

 

Eventually, the liquid turned clear.

 

The smaller solids sank to the bottom.  It was hard to keep them from sticking to the bottom of the pot!  Meanwhile, the larger solids puffed up and floated on the top of the liquid.

 

When the floating bits turn golden brown and slightly crispy, the rendering process is done.  For a pot this size, it took about 6 hours.

 

Next, I strained the rendered lard through a strainer lined with several layers of cheesecloth.  The solids that are left in the strainer are "cracklings."  You can salt them and eat them as a snack, cook them in cornbread, sprinkle them on salads, or use them anywhere else you might use bacon bits (they don't taste like bacon, though.  They taste---not surprisingly---like pork rinds).

The cracklings from the backfat came out chunky, as shown in the picture above.  The cracklings from the leaf lard came out in smaller crumbs.

 

I'm storing my cracklings in ziploc bags in the freezer until I'm ready to use them.  

The rendered, filtered lard itself I poured into mason jars.  I had originally thought I would pour the lard into molds and store it in blocks like pounds of butter.  But unlike the partially hydrogenated lard you can buy in blocks from the grocery store, this lard is still liquid at room temperature, so jars turned out to be essential!

When the lard was first poured into the jars, it was a clear, pale, golden color.

By morning, it had cooled down and turned pure white, but it was still liquid.  It does turn into a solid if you put it in the refrigerator or freezer.

I'm going to store my lard in the freezer until I need it.  Frozen, it should keep almost indefinitely.

From the 75 lbs. of fat I got from my pig, I rendered about 37 quarts of lard.  That will make an awful lot of pie crusts and and awful lot of bars of soap!

From Pig to Pork: The Story of Hagrid

Last month, I was contacted by a woman who was selling all her Guinea hogs.  She wanted to know if I would like to buy two adult breeding sows and an adult boar.  Since I'd already purchased two new sows and a new boar (Rosemary, Thyme, and Basil) in January, I didn't really NEED any new pigs at all.  But the woman was willing to sell hers for a bargain price, so I said okay.

When I saw the pigs for the first time I was stunned by their appearance.  All three were very obese (not an uncommon problem in Guinea hogs, since they are such easy keepers).  But beyond that, the boar and one of the sows were easily 50% larger than any of my other pigs.  I hadn't expected that!

For comparison, the photo below shows the new boar on the left, and the smaller (NORMAL sized) sow on the right:

The Guinea hog breed description states that adult Guinea hogs weigh between 150-300 lbs.  The main appeals of the breed are its small, manageable size and docile nature.  I estimated that the larger of the new sows weighed about 400 lbs. and the boar was closer to 500 lbs.

You can see by these photos how obese the boar was:

Then there was the question of temperament.  The two sows, Aponi and Asashi, were mild-mannered enough, but the boar, Hagrid, was a whole different story.  We've hauled pigs in the back of our Subaru Outback before.  They all pretty much just lay down and went to sleep until the journey was over.  By contrast, Hagrid spent the entire trip hyperventilating and trying to rip and chew his way out of the car.  He did a lot of damage and got himself so worked up, when we finally got him home and unloaded him, all he could do was stagger to the middle of the paddock and collapse, panting.  I was seriously concerned that he might have a heart attack and die right there!

After his ordeal, he just wanted to sleep for a few days.  Mindful that he had experienced severe stress, I mostly let him alone to rest, but went out periodically to check on him and speak to him kindly.  Because of his unusually erratic behavior, I was cautious around him, but I managed to pet him a little bit, hoping to let him know he was in a good place.  He didn't seem to enjoy it much, but I figured he just needed time to settle in, and then he'd be happy and friendly like all my other Guinea hogs have always been.  (Although, for the record, every other Guinea hog we'd ever bought settled in immediately with surprisingly NO sign of anxiety at the new surroundings).

Unfortunately, as Hagrid got more comfortable with his surroundings, his attitude didn't improve.  Instead, it worsened.  A few times, he came at me with a little more force and attitude than I felt comfortable with.  I scolded him and gave him a swat, and he immediately backed off.  "Oh," I thought.  "He just hasn't been socialized to be polite around people.  He'll do better once he learns what's expected of him."

But that was just the beginning.  A few days later, there came a day when he charged at me with a full-on threat.  When I scolded him, instead of backing off and saying, "Oops! Sorry, boss," he puffed himself up and said, "Yeah?  Bring it on, bitch!  I'm bigger than you, and I can rip your legs off!"  I had to throw rocks at his head to give myself a safe retreat from his paddock.

That was the last straw.  Guinea hogs are a docile breed, with "calm," "friendly," and "good with children" written right into the breed description.  Not one of my other Guinea hogs had ever shown even the slightest inclination towards aggression.  I've brought visitors and their children into my boar paddock so they could pet the mature boars.  Most of them flop right over on their sides hoping for a belly rub!

In the days that followed, Hagrid's aggression continued.  I couldn't even walk within 10 feet of his paddock without him charging at the fence, trying to get through it to attack me.  His posture showed the same arched body, angrily swiveled ears, and tensely curled snout that are typical when a boar is about to do battle with a rival.  His tusks were at least 3 inches long and he was fully prepared to use them. 

I was not unsympathetic.  For whatever reason---stress, too much testosterone, imbalance of brain chemicals, lack of socialization to humans, whatever---Hagrid was unable to react to me the way a normal Guinea hog reacts to people, and was instead thinking of me as another hog that he must challenge for dominance.  Unfortunately, in the pig world, that means doing bloody physical battle.

A week passed, and Hagrid's attitude didn't change.  There was no question, I couldn't keep a pig like that here on the farm.  He would be a constant threat to any person or animal who encountered him.  So we made an appointment for him with our local butcher.

After the rather nerve-wracking (but ultimately uneventful) process of loading Hagrid back into the car, we hauled him the 10 minutes across town to the slaughterhouse.  As sad as it was that it had to end this way, when we got back to the farm I was amazed at how relieved I felt that it was done.  Now I could cross the barnyard, doing my chores normally, without the anxiety of an angry 500 lb. hog charging at the fence every time I walked by.  The whole atmosphere of the farm changed back to its normal, serene state.  Until he was gone, I hadn't fully realized how much anxiety Hagrid had been causing me.

Some of the people who heard this story thought that I would be upset with the woman who sold me the hogs.  But that's not the case at all.  Hagrid's bad attitude wasn't her fault.  And ultimately, I still got a very good bargain, even if it wasn't quite the one I thought I was getting.  I got two nice new sows, who after some intensive dieting ought to do very well here.  Plus, because Hagrid went to the butcher, the sweet, friendly young boar that we had been raising to put in our freezer gets to go back on the sales list and perhaps go father some piglets on someone else's farm someday.  So it all worked out just fine for the overall good of the farm.

We've been raising Guinea hogs for a year now, and it's exciting to finally have a freezer full of meat to try.  I'll now be able to talk more knowledgeably about the unique qualities of the meat and give better advice to buyers who want to raise Guinea hogs of their own.

I now have more than 50 lbs. of bacon curing in the refrigerator (a subject for a future blog post) and I've been rendering lard all week.  I should finish the last batch of lard today, and will post photos of the process very soon.

For the record, the following list shows the meat yield that Hagrid provided (Bear in mind that he was an abnormally large and abnormally obese, fully adult Guinea hog.  Most Guinea hogs will provide much smaller amounts):

20 lbs. pork chops
19 lbs. ham steaks
18.5. lbs. hams
9 lbs. Boston butt
12.5 lbs. Picnic ham
8 lbs. spare ribs
12 lbs. tenderloin
17.5 lbs. shoulder steaks
6.5 lbs. soup bones
54 lbs. bacon
17.5 lbs. jowls
30 lbs. sausage
6 lbs. liver
2.5 lbs. kidneys
5 lbs. mystery packages (labels got smeared so we can't read them).

22.5 lbs. leaf lard
53 lbs. back fat lard

Total:  238 lbs. meat and 75.5 lbs. lard.

Thanks to Hagrid's ultimate contribution, a few days ago, we had our first taste of  Guinea hog:  A true farm breakfast with delicious sausage patties and eggs from our own hens.  Our freezer is full and we look forward to many more delicious meals over the coming year.

Thank you, Hagrid!  We honor you for your life and your sacrifice.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Sinfully Delicious: How to Make Eccles Cakes

Every year, around my birthday, Ken makes my favorite treat:  Eccles cakes, a pastry so irresistibly delicious, they were once illegal.

"Eccles Cakes are a Lancashire specialty, named after the town of the same name.  They were very popular in the seventeenth century until they were banned (along with mince pies) in 1650 by the Puritans, who thought they were sinfully rich.  Oliver Cromwell went so far as to pass an act of Parliament authorizing imprisonment of any person found guilty of eating a currant pie."  Great British Cooking:  A Well Kept Secret, by Jane Garmey

I visited England for the first time back in the mid-1980s, and it was there I tasted Eccles cakes for the first time.  I liked them so much, I sought out and bought a British cookbook, just so that I could have the recipe.  I wasn't much of a cook in my younger days, so life went on and the recipe went untried for years, but I never forgot how delicious they were.  Eventually, 20 years later, I convinced my husband to make a batch for me as a treat.  

Could the reality of these simple little pastries stand up to 20 years of imagining?  After remembering them fondly for so many years, would I be disappointed when I got to taste one again?

No indeed!  The first bite of an Eccles cake, warm from the oven is always even more meltingly, overpoweringly delicious than I remember from the last time I had them.

So I decided to post directions on how to make them here on my blog.  Everyone should be entitled to taste Eccles cakes as often as they like!

Eccles Cakes Recipe
(makes about 3 dozen)

Ingredients:

• 1 package of ready-to-bake frozen puff pastry sheets (17.3 oz, 2 sheets per box)

• 1 box of dried currants (10 oz.)

• 1/2 cup brown sugar

• 1/4 cup butter

 

• 1 1/2 tsp allspice

• 1 tsp nutmeg

• Milk (approx 1/2 cup)

• Granulated sugar (approx. 1/4 cup)

Directions:

1.  Remove the puff pastries from the package and lay them out flat to thaw.

2.  Preheat the oven to 400 degrees (F).

3.  Combine the currants, brown sugar, butter, allspice, and nutmeg in a small saucepan.

4.  Heat gently, stirring occasionally until the butter is melted and the ingredients are well mixed.  Remove from heat.

4.  On a smooth floured surface, roll out the puff pastry dough with a floured rolling pin until it is about 12" x 16".

5.  Cut the rolled pastry dough into 4-inch rounds.  We use a small custard ramekin as a guide.  When you have cut all the circles you can, collect the remaining scraps of dough, knead them back together, then roll them out again and cut the rest of your circles.

6.  Place one spoonful of the currant mix into the center of each pastry round.  Brush the edges of the pastry with a little milk to moisten.

7.  Fold the edges of the pastry up around the currant mixture and press into place.

8.  Turn the little bundle over to hide the seam.  Arrange the cakes on a cookie sheet lined with baking parchment.  Cut 2-3small slits in the top of each pasty to make a place for the steam to escape.  Brush the tops with milk and sprinkle with granulated sugar.

9.  Bake for 15 minutes or until golden brown.  Serve warm.

Building a Livestock Loading Ramp

Today Ken built a ramp for loading and unloading livestock into our car.

One of the advantages of raising small breeds of livestock:  When we transport our sheep or pigs, we almost always haul them in the back of our Subaru Outback.  We spread a tarp out, then cover it with a layer of hay bedding.  It doesn't matter if it's cold and rainy out or 106 degrees; inside the car, the animals get the same comfortable temperature as the human passengers.

With the sheep, we usually just grab them and boost them in, but that's easier said than done with pigs.  And also, it's not always easy for the animals to hop OUT of the car at the end of the ride.  So we decided that we needed to build a ramp to make loading and unloading easier for all of us.

First, Ken made the basic framework out of 2x4s that I salvaged from a section of old broken down fence.

The bottom end is cut at a slope so it can rest flat on the ground.  The top end is notched to fit onto the car's bumper.

After attaching the fiberboard platform to the framework, Ken tests the ramp for strength.

If you want livestock to use a ramp willingly without getting scared, you have to give them good traction so they don't slip.  Three rubber doormats should do the trick!

Ken fastens the doormats down with slats, which also provide more traction to prevent little hooves from slipping.

A very important design feature:  When the finished ramp is in place, it rests so that the back of the car can be opened and closed freely without interference.

A bucket of grain attracts many volunteers to test out the new ramp.

Sheep approved, the new ramp is a success!

While en route, the ramp can be tied securely to the car's roof rack, so that it's available to unload the animals at the other end of the journey.

Piglets in the Sun (At Last!)

We've had three litters of American Guinea hog piglets born in the last two weeks, but I've been waiting (and waiting, and waiting!) to post about them until I could get some photos.

My camera does a terrible job at dimly lit indoor photos, so as long as the piglets stayed in their snug nests in the barn, all I could capture were photos of little black blurry things.  And with the weather featuring a lot of cold temperatures, chilling winds, and freezing rain in the past couple of weeks, the piglets and their moms seemed determined to stay inside until spring.

Now, with nicer weather and a little encouragement to the sows (namely, moving their food and water dishes outside, so they could no longer depend on me providing indoor room service), our pig families are finally starting to venture out into the sunshine.

Which means... PHOTO TIME!  :-)

They are mostly hanging out right next to the barn door because in addition to plentiful sunshine, there's a lovely soft, warm pile of waste wool leftover from sheep shearing.  I should have raked it up long before this, but the pigs enjoy napping on it so much, I decided to leave it until spring.  It's only going to be used to mulch the garden anyway, so there's no harm in waiting.