I’ve been thinking a lot about pigs lately. I wish I had one.
Pigs are brilliant animals for a farmer, providing both a ready made disposal for leftover scraps of harvest, and a source of incremental income when the time comes for them to meet their ultimate demise. They are also delicious.
Pigs have particularly been on my mind lately because I’ve become obsessed with, Cafe Mutton, a delicious stop on the great restaurant tour that is now a feature of our home town Hudson. Cafe Mutton specializes in meat, everything meat. Salty, stewy, complex meat dishes that scream delicious. Satisfyingly filling, totally comforting food that honors the meat eating, fat craving, gourmand that lies in all of us. And this week their charcuterie will be a feature of our weekly farm box. You will want some. And you should indulge yourself.
Back to the pigs. I need them. There is a reality within every farming season, and that is that the abundance of the farm becomes overwhelming. The resulting oversupply, of lettuce, which is this week’s challenge, is, ultimately and in the best of scenarios, composted. But the waste of it is heartbreaking. The hours of caring, tending, harvesting and processing, are left in a heap. Of course this all has its advantages, but it seems a shame that the beautiful lettuce heads, bunches of purslane and heads of chard, are not being enjoyed by the humans they were meant for.
Ergo the pig. Pigs love produce. They will eat basically anything, sloppily, noisily, with gusto and appreciation. Last year we delivered our epic overabundance of winter squash to Kinderhook Farm, and in an adorable turn of events had the pleasure of feeding them to a beautiful sow and her sweet piglets. It was a full circle moment that made us feel a part of the life cycle of our farm community.
Pigs are integral to the food system of a farm. They eat food scraps that would otherwise go to waste. Their rooting behavior clears brush and turns over pasture, and their manure is great fertilizer. They are also prolific mothers. A sow has a gestation period of 6 months and within the period can birth up to 30 piglets a year. The resulting product provides an efficient source of income for a small farm.
Pigs are also beautiful. Lumbering and purposeful. I love their solid, round, low to the ground bodies that are built for purpose. Their skin has a kind of translucent warmth to it. There eyes are expressive and their faces have real personality, with a snout that is a form like no other, built for an incredibly precise sense of touch and smell. There’s actually an unrecognized elegance to the pig. And the sow is given little credit for her constant state of reproduction and childrearing. The source of upwards of 30 piglets each year, she is a birthing machine.
There are so many breeds to choose from, their names evoking the old English countryside. The Tamworth is a deep ginger red, and the black and white patterns of the Hampshire are almost painterly. I am partial to the Tamworth, which is said to be known for its intelligence and generally agreeable temperament. Their uses are varied and complex, from bacon to sausage, depending on breed and age. I am definitely a novice in this area. Clearly, there is a lot to learn before one leaps into the world of pig farming.
Anyway, at this point, I’m not interested in producing anything from my dream pigs. Although that may come, I like the need that they fill on the farm. Eat the lettuce, please, someone eat the lettuce.
Note: Cafe Mutton chef Shaina Lowe writes eloquently about all things meat, in an irreverent and honest way that is totally engaging. You can read their writing via their Substack.
