Tourtière

In most French-Canadian homes, it is just not Christmas without tourtière, the iconic meat pie of Québec, traditionally served at Réveillon after midnight mass. Perhaps not surprisingly, there are as many recipes for tourtière as there are cooks who make it. And, of course, there are regional variations. In most of Québec and in New England, it is baked in a 9- or 10- inch pie plate with a bottom and top crust while in the Lac Saint-Jean and Saguenay regions of Québec it is usually a deep-dish casserole with only a top crust. The meat also varies, although pork is nearly always part of the mix, and sometimes the only meat. Beef and veal are often added as sometimes is chicken. Game—rabbit and venison—is popular along the Saguenay. The meat can be ground or diced. The filling usually includes a starch, commonly diced or shredded potatoes, although oatmeal or bread crumbs are also used, the last sometimes soaked in milk. The seasoning can be as simple as salt and pepper or include cloves, cinnamon, savory, and other herbs. My mother claims, evidence to the contrary notwithstanding, that her family is from Nova Scotia which, if it were so, might explain why her choice of seasonings was remarkably similar to those in haggis. (In fairness, her great-great-great-great-grandfather Daigle was Acadian.) This recipe is my own but it is near enough to my mother’s to evoke childhood memories but with a step back to the old country.

Note: this recipe will make a 9- or 10-inch pie, perhaps with a bit left over. Extra filling makes great sandwiches.

Ingredients

500 g (1 lb.) each ground beef and ground pork, preferably ground together

Vegetable oil, as needed

250 g (8 oz., 2 medium) onions, diced

2 or 3 cloves garlic, minced

350 g (12 oz., 2 medium) potatoes, shredded or diced

Water, as needed

15 ml (1 Tablespoon) ground cloves

5 ml (1 teaspoon) dried savory

1 ml (about ¼ teaspoon) ground cinnamon

Salt and pepper to taste

Pâte brisée for a two-crust pie

Method

Mix the meats together thoroughly and brown over medium-high heat in a heavy 12″ cast-iron skillet, working in batches if need be. Remove the meat to a strainer over a bowl and set aside to drain off excess fat.

Wipe out the skillet and add a bit of oil. Sauté the onions over medium-low heat until softened but not browned. Add the garlic and continue cooking for a couple more minutes. Put the diced or shredded potatoes into the skillet and add water to just cover. Cover, turn the heat to low, and simmer until the potatoes are partially done, about 10 to 15 minutes.

Return the meat to the skillet and combine with the potatoes and onions. Add water to barely cover. Sprinkle on the spices, herbs, and pepper and stir in. Simmer gently, uncovered, until most of the water has been absorbed or has evaporated. Add salt to taste along with additional spices and herbs if needed. Remove the meat mixture to dish and refrigerate, ideally overnight. Or, you can freeze it for later use.

When you are ready to assemble the pies, preheat the oven to 205°C (400°F). Roll out the pie dough into two rounds and line a pie plate with one of them. Fill with the meat and cover with the second crust. Crimp, trim, and decorate as you wish. Bake for about 45 minutes or until the crust is golden.

Salisbury Steak

When I was a young Air Force Russian language student at Indiana University more than a half-century ago, I enjoyed visiting a restaurant called The Gables that, besides being on the site of the former Book Nook where Hoagy Carmichael claimed to have written “Stardust,” served a delicious Salisbury steak at a price consistent with my $100 a month airman’s pay. At this remove I can honestly say that I do not remember what it tasted like but I have had a soft spot for Salisbury steak ever since. The dish itself was invented in 1888 by Dr. J. H. Salisbury, a physician from Cortland County NY, between Binghamton and Syracuse, who was an early promoter of a low carbohydrate diet—in fact he recommended eating his steak three times a day. During the World War I mania to remove German names from common items, hamburger steak was often called Salisbury steak. Today, while the US Department of Agriculture mandates that hamburger steak be made of 100% skeletal beef, i.e. no organ meat. Commercially prepared Salisbury steak may by law contain up to 25% pork, beef heart, and up to 30% fat. This last, if nothing else, should convince you of the wisdom of making it from scratch.

Note: to make this recipe gluten-free use corn flakes pulverized in the food processor in place of bread crumbs and rice flour instead of wheat flour. The mushrooms are optional and can be simply left out.

Ingredients
Onion	1 medium, divided use
Mushrooms	6 medium
Garlic	1 or 2 large cloves
Butter and/or oil	30 milliliters (2 Tablespoons), divided use
Ground beef	340 grams (12 ounces)
Egg, lightly beaten	1 large
Worcestershire sauce	30 milliliters (2 Tablespoons), or to taste
Bread crumbs	30 grams (¼ cup)
Parsley, fresh or dried	15 milliliters (1 Tablespoon)
Salt and pepper	to taste
Flour	8 grams (1 Tablespoon)
Beef stock	about 250 milliliters (1 cup)
Thyme, fresh or dried	2 milliliters (¼ teaspoon)

Method

Peel the onion and cut into two pieces through the root. Thinly slice one half and set aside. Coarsely chop the other half and put into a food processor. Separate the mushroom stems from the caps. Slice the caps thinly and set aside. Add the stems and the garlic to the onion in the food processor and mince finely. Sauté the mince in a small amount of butter until the onions are translucent. Set aside to cool.

Combine the ground beef with the cooled onion mixture, egg, Worcestershire sauce, bread crumbs, and parsley. (I use my stand mixer with the flat beater, first beating the egg on medium speed then adding the rest of the ingredients and mixing on the lowest speed setting.) Form the mixture into two oblong rolls about the size and shape of a baking potato then flatten them into patties about 1 centimeter (½ inch) thick. Season on both sides with salt and pepper.

Heat about 15 grams (1 Tablespoon) of butter or oil in a heavy cast iron skillet over medium-high heat and cook the patties for about 8 minutes per side. Remove to a plate and cover loosely with aluminum foil and keep warm while you prepare the gravy.

Reheat the skillet over medium heat, adjust the fat to about 15 milliliters (1 Tablespoon), and sauté the sliced onions until softened. Add the sliced mushroom caps and sauté until lightly browned. Sprinkle on the flour and cook for about minute, stirring constantly. Slowly add the stock a bit at a time stirring constantly. Be sure to let each addition come to a boil before adding the next otherwise you will not know just how think the gravy is becoming. Keep adding stock until the gravy is the consistency you like. (You can use water if you run out of stock.) Stir in the dried thyme and season with salt and pepper to taste.  

Serve the steaks with mashed potatoes and the gravy, accompanied by a green salad or vegetable.

Roasted Duck with Root Vegetables

Although the consumption of duck in the United States has risen by some 35% over the past two decades it lags far behind that of chicken. Roughly 24 million ducks are eaten here annually compared with more than eight billion chickens. Price accounts for part of that: duck costs two to three times what chicken does. But perhaps the main reason we eat less duck than many other countries is misinformation. Many people think that duck is difficult to prepare and high in fat: the first is untrue, the second true but with a caveat. Yes, duck, being a water bird and thus needing a layer of insulation, has more fat than chicken. But like with chicken, the fat is subcutaneous meaning that the meat itself is quite lean. And duck fat, much prized in France and elsewhere as a cooking fat, is about halfway between olive oil and butter in composition. Duck fat contains 50.5% monounsaturated fats, 35.7% saturated fats, and 13.7% polyunsaturated fats compared to olive oil with 75% monounsaturated, 13% saturated, and 12% polyunsaturated and butter with 21% monounsaturated, 51% saturated, and 3% polyunsaturated. Duck is no harder to cook than chicken but must be handled a bit differently to manage that fat. Most recipes for roasting duck call for pricking the skin and letting the fat collect in the roasting pan. But there is a better way: steaming or poaching the duck to render out the fat before roasting it. Not only does this result in a lean bird with crispy skin but the cooking liquid yields a delicious broth for making gravy and mildly flavored fat perfect for roasting root vegetables. For those I use potatoes, beets, carrots, turnips, or parsnips depending on what I have on hand. You can also add some halved Brussels sprouts.

(Recipe adapted from Jamie Oliver’s The Naked Chef (NY: Hyperion, 1999), 124-125)

Ingredients
Duck	About 2 kilograms	About 4 pounds
White wine or water	250 milliliters	1 cup
Dried thyme	5 milliliters	1 teaspoon
Dried parsley	5 milliliters	1 teaspoon
Dried savory, optional	5 milliliters	1 teaspoon
Assorted root vegetables, cubed	About 1 kilogram	About 1 pound
Flour	About 30 milliliters	About 2 Tablespoons
Salt and pepper	To taste	To taste

Method

Preheat oven to 220°C (425°F).

If present, remove the giblets from the duck and set aside for another use. Pat the bird dry and season inside and out with salt and pepper. Truss if desired. Put a rack into the bottom of a large Dutch oven and pour in the wine. Place the duck on the rack and sprinkle on the dried herbs. Bring the liquid to a boil on the top of the stove, cover, and place in the oven.

If your duck does not fit in your Dutch oven, put it on a rack in a roasting pan, adjust the amount of liquid as needed, and cover tightly with aluminum foil.

Prepare a roasting pan with a rack for the duck and a suitable sheet pan for the vegetables. After an hour, remove the pot from the oven and transfer the duck to the rack in the roasting pan, leaving as much fat and juice as possible behind in the Dutch oven. Pour the cooking liquid and fat into grease separator or a measuring cup. When the fat has risen to the top, separate it from the broth and set both aside.

Reduce oven temperature to 190°C (375°F). Arrange the oven racks so that one is at the lowest level and another is two levels above it. Place the roasting pan with the duck onto the top rack.

If you are using beets, you might wish to parboil them for about 15 or 20 minutes and let cool.

Put the vegetables into a large bowl and toss with some of the duck fat. Season with salt and pepper. Spread on the sheet pan in a single layer. Place the pan onto the lower oven rack.

The duck and vegetables should be done in about 40 minutes. Check that the temperature of the duck measured in the thigh is 80°C (175°F) and that the vegetables are tender. Remove the duck from the oven and cover loosely with foil. You can leave the vegetables in the turned-off oven while you make the gravy.

Put 30 milliliters (2 Tablespoons) of the duck fat into a sauce pan. Stir in the flour to make a smooth roux. Strain the broth and add it a bit at a time to the roux while whisking vigorously until it comes to a boil. Keep adding broth until the gravy is the consistency you prefer. If you do not have enough broth, use water or stock.

Arrange the vegetables on a serving platter and place duck on top of them. Serve with the gravy.

Gulasz Wieprzowy

In the nearly four years that I have been posting to this blog I have learned a few things about writing recipes. Although I have much yet to learn, I think it appropriate to repost some of my favorites in light of the experience I have gained. I first posted this recipe in September 2011 as Polish Pork Goulash. 

Although goulash is the Hungarian national dish, similar dishes are popular throughout eastern and central Europe, with differing versions being found in Poland, Slovakia, the Czech Republic, and southeastern Germany. These vary as to the meat used—beef most commonly in Hungary while pork is usual in Poland; the accompanying starch—small egg noodles in Hungary and kasha in Poland; and whether they contain potatoes, tomatoes, or sauerkraut, the last being distinctly Polish. And while Hungarian goulash is made spicy by hot paprika, Poles prefer a milder version. I especially like this Polish-style pork and sauerkraut goulash enriched with sour cream.  

Ingredients
Bacon, diced (optional)	56 grams	2 ounces (2 thick slices)
Pork sirloin or butt, cubed	1 kilogram	2¼ pounds
Flour for dredging	about 50 grams	about ¼ cup
Onion, sliced, 3 or 4 medium	350 grams	12 ounces
Garlic, minced	15 milliliters	1 Tablespoon
Sweet paprika	45 milliliters	3 Tablespoons
Lager beer or stock	340 milliliters	12 ounces
Water	as needed	as needed
Sauerkraut, fresh or canned, drained	one 2-pound bag	one 2-pound bag
Caraway seeds, optional	30 milliliters	2 Tablespoons
Salt and pepper	to taste	to taste
Sour cream, non-fat or regular	120 milliliters	½ cup

Method

Render the bacon in a large Dutch oven until crispy. Remove and reserve, leaving as much fat as possible in the pot.

Season the flour with salt and pepper. Dredge the pork cubes in the flour shaking off any excess.

Adjust the fat in the pan with oil, lard, or bacon drippings to make about 45 milliliters (3 Tablespoons). Working in batches, brown the meat well, adding fat to the pan as needed, and set aside.

In the same pot, sauté the onions until soft and translucent but not browned, 5 or 6 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for another minute or two. Stir in the paprika and cook for 1 minute. Return the pork to the pot and stir to coat well with the paprika and onions. Pour in the beer or stock and enough water to just cover the meat. Bring to a boil then turn the heat down and cover the pot so that the stew simmers gently for 30 minutes. Remove the lid and raise the heat a bit to maintain a simmer for another 30 minutes, stir occasionally to prevent sticking, until the meat is very tender.

Stir in the sauerkraut and the caraway seeds. Cook, uncovered stirring occasionally, for another 30 minutes. Just before serving, stir in the sour cream and adjust the seasoning with salt and pepper.

Serve the goulash over kasha, buttered noodles, or parsley potatoes. Garnish with the reserved bacon.

Mulled Cider Ham

Since we moved back to the area where my wife was raised, it has been our pleasant duty to host Christmas dinner for her clan. Each year I have tried to prepare something a bit non-traditional: the first year it was individual Cornish game hens; the second, roast pork loin; last year, leg of lamb. This year I contemplated poaching a whole salmon but because Christmas is on Wednesday the fish, which would have been caught the previous week, would be getting a bit old. So, I have, of necessity as well as of fondness, turned to an old holiday stand-by: ham.

Choosing a ham is not as simple as one might think. In the United States two distinct types of ham are generally available: dry salt-cured country hams, most common in the South; and wet sugar-cured city hams, the sort usually found in your local supermarket. Both are most often smoked over hickory or apple wood. As a rule, country hams are sold raw and have to be soaked to remove some of the salt then thoroughly cooked. Besides a stronger flavor, these have the advantage of being non-perishable until soaked. City hams are nearly always sold fully cooked, needing only to be reheated and enhanced by whatever flavoring one desires. But, alas, not all city hams are the same. Many are labeled “ham and water product,” meaning that they can be up 49% water by weight, with 15% to 25% being most common. By all means look for a ham labeled “no water added.” It will be a bit more expensive but well worth it. Being sugar-cured, city hams have much less salt than their country cousins which can be a benefit for some people.

If you have decided on a city ham you have a few more choices to make. While country hams are generally sold whole weighing 15 to 20 pounds (7 to 9 kilograms) city hams are usually sold as butt or shank halves. The former have a higher meat to bone ratio while the latter are considered tastier and are often less expensive. Most often I buy the latter because I like having plenty of bone to use for soups and stocks—which brings up the issue of boneless hams. Personally, I would never buy a boneless ham for two reasons: 1) the aforementioned soups and stocks, and 2) the fact that they are artificially formed ham-like products of dubious provenance. And finally, we come to spiral-sliced ham: just say no. I tried one once and it splayed out in the oven coming out dry and unattractive. Buy a decent slicer with the money you save.

Getting back to the matter at hand…although I am known—or more accurately, notorious—for springing new recipes on guests I thought that I should do a test run on the Christmas ham. This is the result.

Ingredients

Apple cider – 1 quart (1 liter)

Brown sugar – ½ cup (80 grams)

Mulling spices (adjust to taste)

        Cinnamon, whole – 2-inch (50 mm) piece

        Cloves, whole – 5 or 6

        Nutmeg, ground – ¼ teaspoon (1 ml)

        Juniper berries, bruised – 4 or 5

        Orange zest or dried peel – ½ teaspoon (2 ml)

City ham, bone-in, butt or shank half – about 7 pounds (3 kilograms)

Note: I braised the ham in a large stock pot. If you use a roaster increase the amount of cider and mulling spices as needed to cover the bottom by about ½- to ¾-inch (1 to 2 cms).

Method

Preheat oven to 300°F (150°C).

Warm the cider in a saucepan and dissolve the brown sugar in it. Add the mulling spices and simmer gently for a few minutes. Ideally, let the spices steep for a half hour or so before proceeding.

Place the ham, fat side up, on a rack in a suitable covered pot or roaster. Bring the cider and spices to a boil then pour over the ham. Cover and put into the hot oven for about 10 minutes per pound (20 minutes per kilogram) of ham. Baste with the cider from time to time.

Remove the ham from the stockpot and put it into a roasting pan reserving the cider (if using a roaster, remove the ham, pour off the cider, then return the ham to the pan). Increase the temperature of the oven to 375°F (190°C) and roast, basting often, until the internal temperature is 155°F (68°C).

Remove the ham to a platter and to rest for 15 or 20 minutes before serving. While the ham is resting, deglaze the roasting pan with the remaining cider. Strain into a bowl. Either dip the slices of ham in the juice before serving or allow your guests to nap their ham as they wish.

Amish Ham Loaf

On the journey from baked ham to hambone soup, ham loaf has always been one of my favorite stops. The Pennsylvania Dutch, or the Amish among them, are generally credited with introducing ham loaf to these shores. This is certainly plausible, given the distinctly Germanic character of the dish, but I have seen nearly identical preparations claiming to be authentically New England in origin. My version differs a bit from most in that I use onions, celery, and a bit of garlic. To let some of the fat escape, I turn the loaf out onto a parchment-lined baking sheet rather than baking it in a loaf pan. And, I use Dijon mustard in place of the dreadful garishly yellow stuff most recipes specify; tasty brown mustard would be equally nice. One could make a ham gravy to accompany the loaf but that would be a different recipe.

Ingredients

Pork – 500 grams (1 pound)
Ham – 500 grams (1 pound)
Onion – 1 medium, chopped
Celery – 1 small stalk, chopped
Garlic – 2 or 3 cloves, minced
Breadcrumbs – 50 grams (½ cup)
Eggs – 2, lightly beaten
Milk – 250 ml (1 cup)
Mustard – 60 ml (¼ cup)
Parsley – to taste, minced
Black pepper – to taste

Glaze:

Molasses – 60 ml (¼ cup)

Apple cider vinegar – 30 ml (2 Tablespoons)

Water – 60 ml (¼ cup)

Ground mustard power – 10 ml (2 teaspoons)

Method

Preheat oven 180°C (350°F).  Using a meat grinder or food processor chop the meats together. Mix in the rest of the ingredients (except the glaze).

Prepare the glaze by mixing all the ingredients together over low heat.

Line a sheet pan with a piece of parchment paper. Press the meat mixture into a lightly oiled loaf pan and turn out onto the pan. Pour about half of the glaze over the loaf. Bake in the hot oven to an internal temperature of 70°C (160°F), about 1 hour. Halfway through the baking, pour the rest of the glaze over the loaf.

Serve hot with suitable potatoes and/or a sweet vegetable like acorn squash or yams. 

Cuisses de Poulet au Vin Rouge

This braise of chicken thighs in red wine is nothing more, or less, than a simplified version of the classic Coq au Vin, hence the fancy French name. Unlike the traditional recipe which is best made with a tough old laying hen cooked for hours to make it tender, this version using boneless or bone-in thighs cooks rather quickly making it suitable for a weeknight dinner. However, unlike the original, I would be reluctant to make it in a slow-cooker for fear of reducing the more tender meat to mush. If you want to be really authentic, brown the chicken in bacon fat instead of oil and butter. Be sure not to skimp on the thyme—its flavor is the essence of the dish—but don’t be afraid to use dried if you do not have fresh. I would use about a teaspoon in place of the four sprigs. Serve with boiled potatoes.

Serves 2 generously

Ingredients

4 chicken thighs, boneless and skinless (or not)

Flour

Salt and pepper

Olive oil and/or butter

1 onion, thinly sliced

1 carrots, diced

250 g (8 oz.) white mushrooms, quartered or sliced depending on size

2 cloves garlic, minced

4 sprigs fresh thyme

1 sprig fresh savory (optional)

½ 15-ounce can diced tomatoes

125 ml (½ cup) red wine

Flour and water slurry, as needed

Method

Season a quantity of flour (I use rice flour for a gluten free dish) with salt and pepper then dredge the chicken. Heat the oil and/or butter in a lidded braisier or Dutch oven over a medium high flame. Working in batches if need be, brown the chicken thoroughly on each side, adding a bit more oil as needed. Set aside.  

Reduce the heat to medium-low, adjust the fat in the pan to about a tablespoon, and sweat the onion and carrots until softened but not colored. Add the mushrooms, garlic, and a pinch of salt. Sauté until the mushrooms express their moisture.  Stir in the tomatoes and wine then add the herbs. Cook, stirring occasionally for a few minutes to blend the flavors. Return the chicken to the pan submerging it into the sauce, adding a bit more wine if needed. Cover and simmer for about 25 minutes or until the chicken is done. If the sauce is too thin, stir in some flour slurry (or beurre manié) and boil gently, stirring, until thickened. Remove the thyme twigs and adjust seasoning before serving.

A Porcine Adventure

Yesterday was my brother-in-law’s 60^th birthday—a great occasion for a family cookout. On the menu, besides the usual burgers and dogs, were pork ribs that a friend had received from a local farmer and had contributed to the cause. However, this being upstate New York, very far indeed from the pig-prizing country south of the Mason-Dixon Line, no one had any idea what to do with them. Enter yours truly, a transplant who lived most of his life either east or south of that line. (Mason and Dixon surveyed the western boundary of my home state of Delaware as well as that separating Pennsylvania and Maryland.) When I arrived at the appointed place I found the “ribs” awaiting in a plastic bag of barbeque sauce. But they were not, in fact, ribs but rather, I divined, so-called “country-style ribs.” Country-style ribs are a marketing fiction rather like “sirloin tip,” a beef cut known in the trade as round knuckle. There are two types cut from one or the other end of the pork loin. Those most common in the supermarket come from the front, or shoulder, end, confusingly called the butt; the others, with which I was confronted, are cut from the rear, or sirloin, end and include small pieces of the floating ribs. This is, in fact, a very nice cut of meat: flavorful and not too fatty. But it can be tricky to cook. Also, I was faced with making the four attached ribs feed ten or so people. The answer, if you have not already guessed, was barbeque.

Generally I am not a fan of store-bought barbeque sauce which usually is just flavored high-fructose corn syrup. But this was a local favorite, Sensuous Slathering Sauce from Dinosaur BBQ in Syracuse. Still, I like a dry rub on meat I smoke so I rinsed off the excess sauce saving the rest in a saucepan. For the rub I mixed some brown sugar, salt, pepper, paprika, and garlic powder. With no little effort I removed the bones, then cut the meat into large cubes, applied the rub, threaded the cubes onto skewers, and went off in search of suitable wood for smoking.

My brother-in-law and his wife live in a lovely little house next to a stream and surrounded by trees, some of which occasionally fall or have to be cut down. So he has a very impressive woodpile. The latest addition was a large sycamore. Unfortunately, sycamore is one of the few deciduous trees that is not suitable for smoking. After a bit of digging I came up with nice foot-long piece of hardwood that I think was cherry. I tested it by holding one end into the gas flame of the stove and smelling the smoke. Perfect! A chop saw quickly turned it into suitably-sized chunks.

By the time I got a couple of handfuls of charcoal going, the rub had done its magic and the meat was ready to smoke. I pushed the embers into two piles at opposite sides of the kettle grill, put a chunk of wood on top, and arranged the skewers in the center away from direct heat. An hour later the meat had lovely smoke rings and was nearly done. Since I needed to get the grill ready for the burgers and dogs, I moved the pork to the oven at 275° to finish cooking.

While the pork was cooking in the oven I added a cup of bourbon to the cup or so of barbeque sauce in the saucepan and brought it to gentle simmer. (If you try this be sure to have a lid handy in case you need to extinguish flaming alcohol.) When the meat was done I removed it from the skewers, coarsely chopped it, and then mixed the sauce into it.

Voila! The only genuine pork BBQ in Ithaca!

Herby Pork Burgers

This time of year the sun both direct and reflected from the south wall of our house makes sitting on our deck during the day impossible. My potted herbs, on the other hand, find this much to their liking so long as I water them daily. So I am always trying new dishes using herbs. For these burgers I used a sprig of savory, several of parsley, a few sage leaves, and a clipping of rosemary. Feel free to substitute whatever herbs you prefer.

Note: this recipe is per burger. Multiply as needed.

Ingredients

1 clove garlic

½ small onion

Herbs to taste (see above)

170 grams (6 ounces) lean ground pork

Salt and pepper

Method

Mince the garlic and onion.

Chop the herbs.

Mix into the meat.

Form patties.

Season with salt and pepper.

Grill until done (70°C, 160°F), about 8 minutes on a side.

Serve on a bun with mayonnaise.

I do this the lazy man’s way: in a food processor.

Pork Rinds

It is a cliché that one can eat all of a pig except squeal. That is certainly true but today most of us live “high off the hog” and generally partake only of the loin, ribs, and ham. Bacon and pork rinds are the notable exceptions. While bacon is popular everywhere, pork rinds are usually associated with the South. More is the shame because they are a delightful snack especially suitable for those on a low-carbohydrate diet. Traditionally pork rinds are deep-fried but in this recipe from the irrepressible Paule Deen they are done in the oven. She uses ham skin but I make mine from the rind I cut from the pork belly I use for bacon. I do not think it makes a great deal of difference which you use. Note, though, that these are a bit chewier than commercial pork rinds. The taste makes a bit of extra chewing well worthwhile.

Ingredients
Pork skin
Salt

Method
Preheat oven to 325°F (160°C). Cut the pork skin into strips about an inch (2 cm) wide and three inches (75 mm) long. Spread the rinds on a sheet pan, sprinkle with salt (I use kosher salt for the irony), and bake until crispy, about three hours. Cool on paper towels or a cooking rack.
Save the rendered fat for cooking but remember that it is a bit salty.