I met this particular pig last summer when The Mistah and I went to pay a visit to the family farm. And by family farm I mean the roadside produce stand that sits on the edge of the parcel of land that used to be a huge farm owned by his father’s side of the family. Now there is an interstate bisecting the property and I could only see a few small plots where things were actually being grown.  Clearly, development in the area has restructured the landscape and taken its toll on the place.
As we poked around the property, we came upon the big red barn that has stood for ages. It’s a little wobbly now and piled high with lord only know what but The Mistah says that the barn used to be used to dry tobacco leaves. Ah, the legacy of agriculture and cash crops.
Around the back of the barn is where we found this guy. I’m assuming it’s a he but I would have no way to know for sure. The closer we got to the pen, the louder the pigs inside squealed and the more animated they became. One minute this one was down in the mud and the next he was up on his back legs, looking me pretty much dead in the eye over the top of the wooden fence. I will just say this is the closest I have ever been to the living, breathing incarnation of what ends up on my plate.
That pig I met was destined to become someone’s dinner at some point according to The Mistah. Each year the folks on “the farm” slaughter a pig or two and have a roast. By now, he could already be gone. I suppose if I were a kinder, gentler individual this could have been a life changing encounter.
Please don’t be disappointed when I say that this meeting didn’t spark any epiphany or make me less inclined to eat animals. Although it did take me a few weeks before I put pork on the menu.
Pork with Mushrooms
Adapted from Kalyn’s Kitchen
- 2 pounds pork loin, cut into 1 inch cubes
- 1 tablespoon paprika
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 8 ounces mushrooms, sliced
- 1 onion, sliced
- 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1 can diced tomatoes in juice
- 1/2 cup chicken broth
- 1/3 cup sour cream
Place pork in a bowl. Add paprika, salt, and pepper to the pork and stir until completely coated.
Heat half of the olive oil in a dutch over over medium high heat. Working in batches if necessary, brown the pork cubes on all sides. Transfer the pork to a plate.
Add the remaining oil to the pot and cook the onion until it begins to soften, approximately 5 minutes. Add the mushrooms and dried thyme and cook until the mushrooms release their liquid and start to brown.
Add the diced tomatoes and chicken broth to the pot, bring to a simmer, and cook for about 10 minutes for the sauce to reduce a bit. Return the pork to the pot, cover, and simmer for 20 minutes until the pork is thoroughly cooked.
Stir a few tablespoons into the sour cream so that it warms and becomes loose. Add the sour cream mixture to the pot and stir to combine before serving.
Bon Appetit Hon 
Darn it, why do pigs and cows have to be so cute? At least fish are ugly. 😉
He was a rather charming fella. Smelly, but charming.
it’s hard being a carnivore and being a responsible one is even harder. it’s good to know where your meat is coming from but sometimes the emotions get in the way of everything.
Well said Lan.
Bacon is murder! Delicious, delicious murder!
Thanks Kitch. Now I have The Smiths playing in my head. Probably not the message that Morrisey had in mind. But I wholeheartedly agree.
Oh pigs. Probably the meat I feel guiltiest about.
And yet they bring so much pleasure. Pork chops. Bacon. Pulled pork.
He does kind of have an endearing expression on the face. Maybe it’s the big ears that are getting me. But I will still eat pork, mark my words. Especially when prepared with mushrooms. I’m so glad you’re a fellow mushroom-lover. =)
I personally was sucked in by the muddy snout. This picture hangs in my little gallery space at home. I see his face every single day.
And it doesn’t make me one bit reluctant to eat some pork.
Sounds like a great recipe… Though, I admit that I always have trouble eating meat a bit when I really think about the animals. If it weren’t for butchers, I’d be a vegetarian.
Amen to that Jen. Butchers are the unsung heros in my meat eating life.
What Jen Schall just said? Ditto. But I admit I’m more interested in where my meat comes from and in that interest, more and more determined to have the meat I but come from people that care about the quality of the animals lives that they are in charge of…it makes my food more expensive but it soothes my soul too…so I guess it’s worth it.
I’m in a group that does a take on a recipe from a vintage cookbook each month. This month I draw the line. I don’t care how many people tell me how delicious rabbit is; once you have a pet rabbit who ate from your hand, well, it’s no more possible for me to eat rabbit than it would be to eat dog! Luckily part of the challenge is to switch out some ingredients…whew. Maybe I’ll try pork? 🙂
Barbara, I don’t know that I could get past the emotion of caring for an animal one day and having it served to me on a plate the next.
Great story, Wendi! Pigs aren’t always cute when they’re older, but the one you saw sure is. My uncle raises pigs, and I have to admit I have a hard time going to see them when I know their fate. But I can be super sensitive sometimes. I do feel better cooking with his meat though because I know where it comes from and how they were raised. I guess it eases my conscience.
Jen, I forgot that you’ve got the ultimate pork supply. There’s something very comforting knowing that the animal that was sacrificed in the name of your bacon, chops, etc was raised humanely.
What a lovely looking roast, I mean pig. I grew up on the farm, and we were always eating our ‘pets’. That sounds terrible. 🙂 But it’s all part of the cycle. 🙂
Anna, I want to hear more about growing up on a farm. I imagine that being brought up in that environment you might not get so emotionally attached to the animals. Talk about the circle of life.