I'm glad I bought this book even though it was a they-don't-have- the-book-I-want- but-I'm-not- leaving-without-a- new-book kind of purchase (realistically, if it wasn't that it would've been a new handbag... there is no rationality when retail desire strikes). also I did quite like The Age article on Reynaud's visit to Australia. and when I opened the book for a flick-thru in the bookstore the first thing I saw was a photo of some piggy dish with a big gooey slab of Saint-Marcellin cheese melted on top. you see, what choice did I have?anyway I didn't get near the book again for quite a while because JG sequestered it immediately, enthusing over all things porcine and planning the assembling of his own pig-killing team (underwhelming response so far).
JG's only criticism of the book is the lack of explicit instructions for actually killing and dressing your own pig. this, clearly, is a benefit for most other readers (he's not weird or anything, he just grew up on a sheep farm so killing your own animals is normal, kind of...) instead Pork & Sons is a rather sweet and sometimes strange homage to Reynaud's grandparents, his hometown and his friends, and a document of what was once an integral part of family and village life in France (and also in Italy - my father can remember pig-killings in his village Circello, near Napoli, where they say that a man who marries is happy for a day, but he who kills a pig is happy for a year). there is in fact, nothing particularly disturbing about this book, although for an ex-vegetarian of many years I have achieved an extraordinary suspension of morality. so much so that while some committed carnivores won't even eat black pudding, I'm right there, totally into it, totally dig it.
JG's black pudding inspired by a dish from Reynaud's book could possibly change a few minds.
black pudding with pear and beetroot crostini
we used morcilla, the Spanish variety of blood sausage. I think an Italian sanguinaccio would also work in place of the French type of sausage but English style black pudding might be too sweet. this entry should really be labeled 'small tasty things', but we are somewhat gluttonous and ate this as a big main event.
for 2 (I did mention we were gluttonous)
2 blood sausages, in half-centimetre slices
1 onion, chopped
2 pears, cut into eighths
3 medium beetroots, each cut into about 6 wedges
half a teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon brown sugar
2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
4 slices of ciabatta or similar bread, at least 2 cm thick and 12cm long
3 garlic cloves, smashed
oil for frying
boil or steam the beetroot wedges until tender.
fry the onion with the salt in a large frypan over a medium heat to slowly caramelise. when the edges are browning add the sugar and vinegar and stir for a few minutes.
add the pear slices and cook these to the desired softness, then remove and set aside.
add the sausage slices to the onion and raise the heat a little. stir continuously to ensure the sausage cooks but the onion doesn't burn. add the beetroot and stir everything well to mix the flavours.
in another frypan heat quite a lot of oil and add the garlic, cooking aver a medium heat until the garlic just colours to flavour the oil. remove the garlic then turn up the heat and fry the bread on both sides until you have crisp, golden crostini.
place two crostini on each plate then lay the pear slices on top with a little space in between. fill the gaps with the beetroot and onions and arrange the sausage slices on top. garnish with long chive strands.
