Lard at last

It only took 689 miles and three hand-offs, but my lard has finally arrived. I am just so happy.

And I think I can now reveal the origin of my lard since it was purchased in the same state it was produced in and then transported across state lines. How would the seller know what was to become of his lard once it was removed from the premises?

The lard’s journey actually began in Orange Park, Florida, with my BBQ buddy Clif Welch, who will pretty much travel any distance for something good to eat. He was in search of pork belly, I believe, and Kevin Ouzts of The Spotted Trotter in Atlanta had some with Clif’s name on it. And Kevin had my lard. So Clif stops in Atlanta, picks up his pork belly and my lard and heads to the Jack Daniels Invitational in Lynchburg, Tennessee.

My lard is then handed over to John and Kathy Swift of Wild Bunch Butt Burners, who agreed to stash it a few days until the contest is over. At the end of the contest, John and Kathy transfer the lard to Rosemary and Charlie Burdeshaw, a couple of pals of mine who are fellow BBQ judges and who live in Nashville. BBQ is such a small world and, you know, I’m so happy that’s the case right now.

This morning, I pick up the lard and a few other goodies Kevin stashed in the bag from Rosemary. And, bless her heart, she never once questions why I would go to such lengths to get my hands on lard. She just cheerfully hands it over.

So Clif just sent me this e-mail:

Question: What are you going to use the lard for?  I got two blocks.  Didn’t that used to go in corn bread and biscuits before Crisco and, later, cooking oil? How about a blog post on cooking with lard?

OK, Clif, here you go. First of all, back in the day lard was used to fry everything. It was also used to make pie crusts and biscuits and it was melted in the bottom of a cast iron skillet so that when you poured in the cornbread batter it would pop and sizzle. That created a sublime crust when the cornbread baked.

Lard lost favor when people became more health conscious and started using vegetable oil. But what is it I keep telling you people? Fat equals flavor? And isn’t it worth it to go for the gusto every once in awhile and vote in favor of flavor? Yes, it is.

So here is how I am going to use the lard. First of all, I am going to fry some chicken in it. Fried chicken, in my opinion, is the highest and best use of lard. I am also going to make French fries, using the double fry method. Here’s the recipe from Food Network I am going to use, except substituting lard for the peanut oil, of course. Then I am going to make a pie crust, since I got three blocks of lard and you, Clif, only got two. Ha!

And I am also going to try an experiment. I have always been wary of the lard you can buy in supermarkets because I’ve heard it easily goes rancid. But I am going to buy some and do a side-by-side comparison, probably with the French fries because potatoes are cheap and so am I.

My Southern food muse and friend, Terrell, told me repeatedly (because I asked repeatedly) that the supermarket lard was fine. I didn’t get a chance to do this experiment before he died because I didn’t meet Kevin Ouzts until right before Terrell died. But you know what? I am quite sure that if Terrell turns out to be right about this I will most definitely hear “told you so” loud and clear.

Illicit lard trafficking

I am so sorry that I have been away from here for a few days, but I have been very busy initiating the illegal transport of lard across state lines.

I was forever asking Terrell about lard, assuming that he had a few blocks stashed away on top of his stove. But he’d just tell me to buy it at the supermarket, which I was not about to do. You just do not know where those pigs have been that supermarket lard comes from.

I have a fantasy of frying chicken in lard. And, of late, it’s become an obsession. So I was in Atlanta a few weeks ago at the Peachtree Road Farmer’s Market. And I happen upon a sausage stand. I am not going to tell you the name, and you will understand why in a moment. I pose the question: “Do you have lard?” And the proprietor answers that he does not but that he might be able to ship me some. I become extremely excited and upon arriving home start to plan for my beautiful lard-laden fried chicken.

I begin a correspondence with my lard purveyor and he informs me that shipping will be a little tricky because officially he’s not supposed to send anything over state lines. But he is willing. I place my order. I wait expectantly for days. No lard.

I sense my lard provider is getting cold feet and I am right. And, actually, he is right because it definitely is not worth losing your food license because of some deranged woman in Tennessee who has designs on your lard. By the way, I would like to say here that for those of you who think lard is bad for you, it is not. Well, not that bad. Butter is worse for you than lard, and I eat at least a stick of butter a day and am none the worse for wear because of it. Plus my skin glows.

But I digress. You know how God has a plan for you? God has a plan for me to get my lard. I get a call from a friend of mine who will be passing through Atlanta in a few weeks. He knows of my lust for lard and he is willing to pick up an order for me. I briefly ponder whether it is also illegal to transport lard across state lines when purchased by a third party. I decide not to pursue the question so I don’t spook my new lard carrier. He will then hand off my lard to a third party at an undisclosed location who is willing to then deliver the lard to me.

Is all this subterfuge worth the trouble? I will report back to you, but I think it is. I have either dabbled or completely immersed myself in everything Southern. I can fry. I can make pie crust. I know my way around a pan of macaroni and cheese. I have the battle scars and burns to prove that I have embraced cast iron.

And now lard. The last frontier.