Friday, October 5, 2007
Makin' Bacon -Stage 2
Alright then! It's been seven days since I dry rubbed my pork belly with curing salt and spices. During that time it's been sitting in the bottom drawer of my refrigerator having it's myglobin converted into nitric oxide myoglobin, becoming infused with the aroma of nutmeg, juniper, thyme and black pepper and absorbing sodium, chloride ions and sugar molecules that will keep it from drying out too much while inhibiting bacterial growth. It has also acquired a name: Mike.
No one is going to be as surprised as I was when I withdrew the meat from the refrigerator today and heard the pork belly tell me that he wanted to be called "Mike."
Aghast, I said "Mike as in Michael Ruhlman, the author of the book Charcuterie, the guy who wrote the recipe that I used to cure you?"
"No man," he said "Michael Bolton the singer. He's singing swing now, and since I'm going to be swinging from a rope soon, I figured what the hell, that's my cure."
Never one to argue with talking food, especially pork with an obscure rationality I said "Okay Mike, roll over" and proceeded to roll him, tie him up and hang him in the basement. It's not much of a story, I know, but it's the truth.
(The last photo shows a pot filler faucet I'm installing. It's only in there temporarily until I get the stone for the wall behind the stove. It seems weird to me that the faucet is like twice the price of the travertine and glass tiles but I suppose if I added in the cost of my labor for installing the tiles they'd be more expensive.)