When Time is on Your Side, Bacon (and other things) Happen

I’ve voluntarily given up my annual spring motorcycle camping trip in favor of solitary confinement to a practice room.   No winding my way northward with Li'l Burro on the Utah Backcountry Discovery route, nor overshooting my migration destination with the Ducati, perhaps finally exploring Bear Highway in Montana, no, no, not me.* But as small consolation, I’ve found much can happen in my kitchen, while I’m in the next room practicing the flute.

It all started this winter, when I scored almost two gallons of fresh, raw milk from our CSA.
Heat and culture the milk, then go examine at length the difficulties of keeping your 5ths and 3rds in tune in E-Flat major.  Milk magic happens on its own.

Add some rennet, then enjoy G Major as a reward.

Cut the curds, drain the whey, press the curds, and go work on the crazy technique you learned back in NYC.

After several days of drying, turning, and brining, you’ve got Bach’s Brandenburg 4 in your pocket, and a nice block of Eating On Two Wheels Greek Style Cheese. (That’s feta, to you and me.)

Fermenting vegetables is even easier. Sprinkle them liberally with salt or brine them, weight them so they stay below the surface of their liquid, step back, and allow the local population of microbes do the work for you.  By the time you’ve re-learned the Stravinsky part you haven’t looked at in a decade, which, admittedly, takes a few days,  you’ll have a spicy radish and root kimchi.  Or curtido, that lightly fermented El Salvadoran slaw one simply must have along side a pupusa.

Operation Curtido Test.  The fancy set up in the photo is wholly unnecessary, but I was only too happy to receive this little birthday gift.

Unlike canning, from which, if you don’t follow the directions exactly, you just might experience the neurotoxic paralysis of botulinum, albeit with a particularly youthful facial complexion, when fermenting, the good guys always win!

Then there’s the adorable little “ginger bug,” a siren song for wild yeasts everywhere.  She’ll be the starter for a half gallon of ginger beer in a day or two.

People, please. I know it’s a hack job, but you get my point. I’ve no time for Photoshop, only time for bacon.

I don’t (yet!) have a temperature and humidity controlled space for fermenting, oh, say, salame (yes!!), but… look what I can do!

RECIPE
Take the Community Supported Agriculture humanely raised pork belly out of your freezer.  Carefully** measure out some curing salts and seasonings, lovingly rub that belly with the mixture, and let it rest comfortably in the fridge.  Don’t come out until you can play the tricky bits from Strauss’s Rosenkavalier.  There are a lot of tricky bits.

Take the belly out, drop it in your good neighbor’s smoker, go practice for a couple more hours, and…

Ding! Practice break!  If you are anything like me, the rest of the story will proceed along these lines:

The delicious smell wafting towards me sparks a wild kitchen circle dance, carving knife held high in the air.  But it’s difficult to slice meat whilst leaping around, so gaining control of my hysteria is paramount. I cut a slice, then reverently lower my weapon.  “Sweet Baby Jesus,” I whisper to myself.  “Bacon happened.”

No good can come of this newly discovered culinary superpower.

But there is still one thing left to do...

Sizzle. <taps watch> Sizzle.

Blessed be the steady supply of Grandpa-Good tomatoes at the Santa Cruz River Farmers' Market

Although it may appear otherwise, I do still ride motorcycles. This picture is not from today’s ride, when, after flying by the Sheriff at twice the speed limit, I sat up quickly, hoping to look like an innocent mushroom hunter***, but from a Kitt Peak ride back in March. Thanks to the good "Olive and Emilie", who I met at the top, for the photo!

References
Milk - The Surprising Story of Milk Through the Ages, Anne Mendelson: I checked this one out of the library years ago, and have wanted my own copy ever since. I finally plunked down real money for it, and, more importantly, allotted it space on my very small bookshelf this winter. Fascinating information, some recipes, and interesting little kitchen experiments, too.
Dry-Curing Pork, Hector Kent: A purely self-serving gift from Pilot Guy. Clear explanations regarding both “how” and “why.”  I expect to put this book to heavy use.  Features photos of cheerfully smiling people wielding butchering knives in a field.
The Art of Fermentation and Wild Fermentation, both by Sandor Ellix Katz, aka “Sandorkraut”: The former is an absolute Bible, or “in-depth exploration of essential concepts and processes from around the world,” the latter a small book focusing on actual recipes. I absolutely love this guy, and his philosophy on food, life, and community.  Visit him and a useful support forum online.

*Prepare for neglect, dear flute, because August, you are mine!
**This is no time for eyeballing it, because, if you goof, you’ll stand a chance of enjoying either nitrite toxicity or botulism.  Get yourself an accurate gram scale, if you don’t already have one from, uhhh, other pursuits.  I didn’t trust my aging kitchen scale, but Pilot Guy’s mad scientist laboratory includes, among other things, a three foot wide photo printer, a 3D printer, and a scale once owned by the former U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commissioner.  I’m pretty sure that means it’s good for these purposes, too, so long as all traces of plutonium have been removed.
***I came up empty on the mushroom hunt, although I only allowed myself a ten minute foray at one favorite spot. But – rain in June, twice?? – it’s unheard of. The season is off to an early start!  Regarding the sheriff, I guess he was texting. Useful Lemmon Tip: Once you know where he is, you know where he isn’t.  Yeeee-HA!