The Cure For Everything Is Salt …
… tears, sweat, and the sea. (Dinesen)
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I’ve grown accustomed to specifics. Not that I need blow-by-blow and ounce-by-ounce instructions, but enough at least to know I’m heading in the right direction. Which is why I was both intrigued and annoyed by the recipe for Mario Batali’s porchettain the April 2007 issue of Esquire. After spending paragraphs extolling the virtues of bone-in pork shoulder cooked over low heat for hour upon hour, the editors published a recipe for boneless pork shoulder cooked at standard heat for only 120 minutes. Teases.
The impetus for my need, an upcoming dinner party. Some dear friends of ours recently resurrected their movable feast dinner party, in which each couple brings somehing exquisite to contribute to a lovely meal. I wanted to make a roast. Mario’s roast. The one that cooks overnight and fills the house with the scents of rosemary, garlic, and pork. But google as I might, I couldn’t find any guidance past the brief narrative in the magazine. So I adapted a prep treatment from Barbara Kafka’s Roasting. Then there was the question of cooling and storing the pork, which is meant to be cooked overnight, cooled through the day, and then reheated for dinner—placing it into the fridge would be a one-way ticket to congealed toughness. I placed pork consultation call to friend and business partner Michael, and we hatched a plan.
Judith proclaimed the pork a success (very high praise in my book). Here’s the recipe:
The rest of the meal was exquisite as well—a tian of vegetables that I’m going to try to replicate for Sunday dinner, a roasted beet and goat cheese salad with fried capers, fresh bread, homemade spumoni, and pistacchio cookies from a terrific new bakery in Andersonville, Pasticceria Natalina. Here’s to friends who are wonderful chefs and to friends with wine cellars.
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