PIGGY

There is a pig farm less than half a mile from where we lay our heads at night, which we had no idea about (although we had seen the building) for weeks. The pigs are silent. Also, apparently, odorless. We still have not been inside, although we have put in an inquiry of interest to do so, because this past week was slaughtertime for the Pig Man in preparation for the Jaanipaav, St. John's Day, which is the big summertime fun holiday in Estonia (and Scandinavia as well). The translation for Jaanipaav is the "midsummer," essentially the summer solstice, and has certain pagan rituals involved like bonfires and the consumption of pig. So we were told that the Pig Man was very distressed last week to have to kill all his piggies, as apparently the cruel realities of the trade haven't fully hardened him yet, making a visit to see him impossible for the time being.

But he delivered us by hand some pig, anyway:


This rib-loin-ish piece was presented in a black garbage bag. Skin intact, bristles thankfully removed. ((There was a loin-belly-ish piece as well but Evelyn's mother got that prize.)) Neither Matt nor I have ANY experience in butchering, and the IKEA knives were tested to their limits on this. Luckily, I ask too many questions at work and watch the wild woolly men at their posts, so I knew a thing or two-ish after all, but Matt is stronger than me, and time was of the essence...



In the end, we produced a loin roast (consumed in Meal Two - post coming soon) five ribs (that were chile rubbed and barbequed over the fire on Tero + Karolina's last nite), the skin (half was attempted into fried pig skins, the other half I made delicious stock from and then sauteed the now soft pieces into crostini at Meal Two), fat (rendered into lard, which we made tortillas from last night!), some assorted pieces that we just ate or shish-kebabed, and some bones, etc that I made into a pork broth for Meal Two.