.......is almost here.It has to be cold. We fed heavily with field corn for several weeks.The sty was out by the barn.You pop them behind the ear with a 22 rifle.Then raise the carcus on a block-and-tackle and cut the throat.The smell of blood makes the next victum apprehensive.The meat is treated with a compound of salt and borax.If it gets too warm the meat will not "take salt"and will spoil--a real disaster in these parts. The fat is rendered by boiling and skimming to produce snow-white lard.All trimmings and sometimes a shoulder are ground for sausage. There are pieces you never heard of--I'll buy something nice for whoever can identity the "meld". A very difficult job in freezing weather,covered with grease. When it was almost done Granny would go indoors and start a meal to remind us why we did it depite the rigors.Fresh Tenderloin with cathead biscuits and gravy and home-canned applesauce or baked winesap....and banana pudding. Last years hams were for the Holidays. Ever eat baked country ham? The real thing not Cracker Barrell. Granny could still do this back-breaking work at 85. She has gone now but she taught the little Wonderworker..... ....who never imagined how much he would miss those long cold days.
I remember the last one my father killed. I cryed for days and would not eat meat (little Laura Ingalls type) until I forgot and the smell of the cooking got to me.
My grandpa had a bunch of pigs when I was a little girl. I remember every year when he killed pigs. He would string them things up with big chains. I remember that one day he drove up with a whole pick-up truck of twinkies and things. I thought I was in heaven. They were old and stale and for the pigs to eat. He let us kids pick one pack out (he had too, we wouldn't leave him alone). They were stale, but we just couldn't stand to see the pigs eat them all.
Grandpa used to make sausage, pork chops and whatever else he could out of those pigs. It was good eatin'.
tennesseejudy: I remember the last one my father killed. I cryed for days and would not eat meat (little Laura Ingalls type) until I forgot and the smell of the cooking got to me.
I can raise em, and I can eat em, but I font like killing them. I've done it a number of times, but I usually make pets out of them, and its hard killing them.
BrunoMcMahon: Are you sure you don't mean the "melt" AKA spleen?
I always liked organ meat but never tried that.
I never knew the origin of the word and never found a clear explanation. Checking Mr. Webster,I found nothing. Seems like it might be Old English or Gealic in archaic form. You may be onto something but I understood it differently.
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We fed heavily with field corn for several weeks.The sty was out by the barn.You pop them behind the ear with a 22 rifle.Then raise the carcus on a block-and-tackle and cut the throat.The smell of blood makes the next victum apprehensive.The meat is treated with a compound of salt and borax.If it gets too warm the meat will not "take salt"and will spoil--a real disaster in these parts.
The fat is rendered by boiling and skimming to produce snow-white lard.All trimmings and sometimes a shoulder are ground for sausage.
There are pieces you never heard of--I'll buy something nice for whoever can identity the "meld".
A very difficult job in freezing weather,covered with grease.
When it was almost done Granny would go indoors and start a meal to remind us why we did it depite the rigors.Fresh Tenderloin with cathead biscuits and gravy and home-canned applesauce or baked winesap....and banana pudding.
Last years hams were for the Holidays.
Ever eat baked country ham? The real thing not Cracker Barrell.
Granny could still do this back-breaking work at 85.
She has gone now but she taught the little Wonderworker.....
....who never imagined how much he would miss those long cold days.