The pigs continue to grow and I had the privilege of tending them last week. Raising your own food takes much effort and I nearly had myself talked into moving back to the burbs.
You haven’t lived until you have to pull six feet of the hose out of their wallowing hole and then get splattered with muck when one of them shakes, just like a dog coming in out of the rain. Ick. But with dear husband back on a normal work schedule, I guess I’ll hold off a bit longer on making my plea for returning to city life.
One of my challenges with our “pig project” (other than the flying muck), has been preparing different cuts of meat I would never buy at the grocery (I know, an odd introduction to a recipe post, but there it is).
This last week, of all the cuts of pork we packed away in the freezer, only two pork shoulders remained. I didn’t know how to prepare them so I kept pushing them to the side while I dug around for more chops or bacon. I nearly considered them dog food.
But there they were. All alone. The last to be picked. And I have a family to feed. So I did what any farm girl would do. I Googled it. It only took one good search to remedy my problem and we had the best pulled pork I’ve ever made.
I adapted my recipe from one that looked easy, using the ingredients I had on hand:
- Place two shoulder roasts (with bone in, approximate 3 pounds each, defrosted) in a container or ziplock.
- In a separate bowl stir together 6 cloves of minced garlic, 2 tablespoons of dried rosemary (mine was dried from last year’s garden), sea salt and olive oil. Pour over top of pork.
- Marinate in the refrigerator overnight (mine got to marinate for two days, but that’s another story).
- Remove from container and place on a rack in a shallow roasting pan. Pour extra marinade on top.
- Cook at 275° for about nine hours. Mine got an extra hour at 225° (again, another story).
- Remove from oven and cover loosely with foil. Allow to rest before cutting and serving.
I cut this pulled pork with a spoon!
And the taste rivaled any you’d get from a decent BBQ–it doesn’t need sauce, but I image it would be great the next day with your favorite BBQ on sandwiches. This is what we call “company worthy” good.
So, after a not so pleasant week tending the pigs, I now remember why we do what we do. Meat without the mystery, minus the miles. Raised by my own hands (well, mainly my hubby’s). Slow roasted in my oven. Served at my table. And totally worth it.
(Next year I won’t leave the shoulder roast until all the bacon and chops are gone.)