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GREASY BONES

Early man didn’t waste his bones. He extracted the fat left in bones to use for lighting and waterproofing. He also realized that where the carcass of a dead animal had rotted plants flourished. We are still using these bones by-products today. Blood and bone makes a popular and effective fertilizer, also called bone dust, and the fat rendered from bones is found in candles, cheap soap, and lubricating grease.

From the late seventeenth century on, the town of Cork in Ireland was an important center for the export of salted meats, especially pork and bacon. As a result, pork offal was readily available, cheap, and a local favorite. Children ate cooked pig’s tails from newspaper cones while they played, and babies were calmed with pacifiers made from washed pig’s knuckles. Crubeens, or cruibins, were a popular Saturday night pub food. Crubeen is the Irish term for pig’s trotters, and the cooked feet, liberally sprinkled with salt, were the perfect accompaniment to a glass or two of stout. In Ireland, as elsewhere, though, increasing prosperity and fascination with new exotic foods led to the decline of local specialties. The popularity of pig’s extremities has waned, benefiting only the publicans who now have fewer greasy beer glasses to wash.

Braised Hock with Fennel Three Ways

I’ve always liked licorice. A similar flavor is found in aniseed and fennel, and that flavor matches very well with pork. Here I have used it three times to layer the taste, first with fresh fennel, then with the aniseed-flavored pastis, and finally with fennel seeds. If your fennel bulb has fresh, leafy fronds keep them: Chop them and add to the sauce just before serving.

This sauce is also excellent with veal osso buco; replace the pork hock with pieces of veal shank and use veal instead of pork stock.

1 fresh pork hock, about 2¼ pounds (1 kg)

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 small onion, diced

1 inner celery stalk with leaves, sliced

1 carrot, peeled and sliced

1 small leek, trimmed and sliced

½ small fennel bulb, diced

3 garlic cloves, minced

¼ cup (60 ml) pastis or Pernod

One 14-ounce (398-ml) can whole tomatoes

1 teaspoon fennel seeds, crushed

1 cup (250 ml) Pork Stock (page 58) or Court Bouillon (page 60)

1. Preheat the oven to 300°F (150°C). If the skin is still on the hock, remove it and keep it for stock. Pat the hock dry and season it with salt and pepper. In a Dutch oven or flameproof casserole, heat the oil over medium heat. Brown the hock on all sides, then transfer it to a plate. Add the onion, celery, carrot, leek, and fennel to the pot and cook, stirring, for 5 minutes or until the vegetables begin to brown.

2. Add the garlic and pastis and bring to a boil, deglazing the pot by scraping up the browned bits from the bottom. Add the tomatoes, with their juice, the fennel seeds, pork stock, and 1 teaspoon salt and bring to a boil. Remove from the heat and add the hock, along with any juices. Spoon some of the liquid over the top of the hock. Cover with a damp piece of parchment paper and then the lid and place in the oven. Cook for 2 to 2½ hours, turning the hock after 1/2 hours, until the meat is very tender, almost falling off the bone.

3. Serve the hock with the braising liquid.

Smoked Hock with Black-Eyed Peas

Smoked hocks make great soups and are the perfect match with dried beans. One of the best known such dishes is Boston baked beans, with its sweet molasses-and-pork-flavored sauce. This recipe has its origins farther south in the United States. I like the way black-eyed peas look here, but any whole dried pea or bean will do. Collard greens may be more authentic, but I prefer the taste and texture of kale.

Smoked hocks vary in size and larger ones will need longer cooking before the peas are added. By the time the beans are cooked, the meat should be almost falling off the bone.

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 red onion, sliced

2 celery stalks, sliced

3 garlic cloves, halved

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