Today I picked up 10 pork bellies at the Springfield Farm Store. The pork is from local, naturally raised pigs, no hormones, no antibiotics. Tomorrow we’ll be starting the cure. Our butcher, shown in the picture above, has agreed to let us use her cold room, so we don’t run out of fridge space at home.
Last night, after a delicious mushroom risotto, Mr. Stephenson and myself decided that it was time for some bacon. Our wives chose ice cream for desert instead, but we fired up a small cast iron pan and started frying. The bacon was from the first trial run of the cold smoker, and whilst slightly over-smoked it’s still miles better than anything you can hope to buy in a supermarket.
That’s of course partly to do with the pork we’re using, humanely raised, no hormones, no antibiotics, but also do to the time and effort we put into the curing and smoking. The sweet spot for a cold smoke seems to be about a day and a half, down from the three days I smoked the first batch for. That way you’ll end up with a bacon that’s wonderfully smoky, but without overpowering the spices from the cure.
We fried our bacon with sprigs of rosemary and ate it on walnut bread with some wild fermented pickles, with the bread soaking up the fat.
Whilst we’re on the subject of fat, if the picture makes you worried about your health, let me reassure you. Between the two of us we ate really very little meat. Because bacon is so full of flavour, a little does go a very long way. In addition, bacon fat, if you start with a healthy pig, is actually very good for you. Bacon fat is about 65% polyunsaturated, with only about 11% saturated fat contained in it. It is also rich in vitamin a and e, so while you should not eat a pound a day, the occasional slice of bacon, or three, should actually be beneficial to your health.
The cold smoked bacon is ready for consumption. This is what it looks like:
It turned out absolutely delicious. The 36 hour cold smoke, and the subsequent hanging in the basement, means that the flavour is highly concentrated, so a little goes a long way.
Wait for fall. You’ll need low ambient temperatures, ideally in the low sixties, for this to work. Any higher, and the meat might spoil. You don’t want frost either, a cool fall day is perfect.
Start with a generous amount of pork belly. Mr. Stephenson and myself tend to buy an entire belly, partly because the result will be delicious and freezes well, partly because, if you’re anything like us, you’ll end up giving much of the bacon away to grateful friends. A man carrying smoked pork products is a man who’s welcome in most people’s houses and a slab of home smoked bacon beats a bottle of wine as a host present.
Cure the bacon as you would for the hot smoked version. The making bacon video shows you how. I use Michael Ruhlman’s basic cure, salt, sugar and a small amount of pink salt both for flavour and to make sure that botulism isn’t an option. Dredge the belly in the cure until well covered, then put into large ziplock bags and add any further flavourings.
I made three different spice cures, one with smoked paprika, one with fennel and one with a Syrian sausage spice mix I’ve bought some time back in a Turkish store in Scarborough. Cure the meat in the fridge for three days, turning it daily. The salt will start pulling liquid out of the meat almost instantly, by the end of day three there should be a fair amount of brine in the bag and the meat should feel quite a bit stiffer.
After three or four days take the meat out of the brine and rinse with cold water. Poke a hole in it and tie a piece of string, so you can hang it. I hang my bellies into the unlit smoker, where I leave them to dry for 24 hours. Obviously this only works when the temperatures are low enough, if it’s too warm dry the meat in the fridge.
Light your smoker. I built a smoke house during the summer, I generate smoke with a smoke bullet from porkypas.com. Truth be told it took me a couple of tries to get the hang of it, but now I get consistent smoke times – without the bullet requiering attention – of four hours and up.
And that’s almost the end of it. Smoke the bacon for about 36 hours. I tend to smoke over a weekend. I start the smoker up at about 8:00 in the morning, then keep it going until close to midnight when I give it one last fill and go to bed. The next morning I clean the bullet out, refill it and let it run for another day.
Once smoked to your satisfaction, take the bacon out of the smoker. Sprinkle the meat side generously with cracked pepper, wrap in cheesecloth and hang in a dark, cool place – a basement is ideal – for about four to six weeks. The bacon will dry out and continue to cure. When the meat feels reasonably firm, the bacon is ready to eat.
Like Mr. Duess, I grew up in the country. Unlike Mr. Duess I grew up in the woods in northern northern northern Canada: The Yukon to be exact. I grew up with a secret swimming hole, fishing and hunting trips, a nice big dog, lots of motorcycles and fixing motorcycles. I would say, however, that it was ultimately a tough place and that this small list of things kept me out of trouble. When I moved to the city to pursue an exciting life in media (woo hoo), in some misguided attempt to embrace urban living and my new creative profession, I left behind all these fabulous things. Things that I think have, in a circuitous way, lead me to make some pretty great home cured bacon.
The short version of this story goes something like this: I had a revelation of sorts a few years ago that I could have my exciting, fun, culture filled urban life AND still love motorcycles, hunting, fishing and big dogs. I went out immediately and rented a motorcycle, got my hunting license and brought home another cat (I know its not the same thing – the dog will have to wait for a larger backyard in the future).
MPW and I on our way, like good Canadians, up north.
My good good friend Micheal Phillip Wodjewoda became struck, around the same time as I did, with his own special form of motorcycle lust and he dove head first into it. He is now a full time rider. I, for the sake of the sanity of Mrs. Stephenson, have opted to rent a bike occasionally in the summers when the weather is nice. Once a year Micheal and I go on a little tour together. Wednesday was our day. This year I rented an unlikely bike for me – a Harley Sportster.
It is a simple, low to the ground, rumbly, middleweight bike with a very basic V-Twin, single cam engine and short short exhaust pipes without baffles. This all really translates to this bike being louder than hell as it propels you with a convincing amount force across the asphalt.
What does this have to do with home cured bacon you might ask. I know, certainly, that Mr. Duess is likely rolling his eyeballs reading this right now. To him I say, I beg your indulgence, Mr. Wax On, Wax Off!. I got to thinking a bit about the experience of driving the Harley and how it relates to this idea of “New Heritage Cooking”.
My ride and I after a fabulous truckstop lunch. "Keep the rubber side down" was a piece of helpful advice I got from the cashier.
The Harley is about as honest a ride as you can get. You can hear the valves tapping away, you can hear the combustion of the gasoline air mixture, you can even hear the pistons and crank shaft in the slow chugging of the engine (according to Micheal, it makes a sound that goes, “potato-potato-potato-potato-potato”), you certainly feel the vibration, smell the exhaust, and are very aware that the ground is only 23 inches from your but. On top of this the suspension is rustic so you feel every little bump and you ride this little beast in an upright position, so you get the full force of the wind against your body.
There is a kind of basic understanding that you reach, through your senses, of the reality of riding a motorcycle. This is not only highly enjoyable and entertaining, but lead me to appreciate the aesthetic of the Harley – something I was previously not into, standing on the street listening to some jerk rev his Harley up at the lights. And this is where we get to the home made bacon part of things.
The really nice thing about the home made bacon, the home made duck prosciutto, the home made sourdough bread (damn you Mr. Duess! you will get your comeuppance) etc, is that you begin to develop a relationship with the process and all the elements that go into it. This translates into a more informed sense of taste – a more informed experience with the final product. I can unequivocally say that my appreciation for bacon has grown leaps and bounds through selecting, spicing, curing and smoking my own.
Just in case you forgot, this is bacon.
There is a real knowing that comes with doing. While this is not a perfect metaphor, I think that the Harley Davidson puts you in this very position. If you’re riding around on a slick racing machine with a technologically advanced engine and suspension, you can certainly ride fast, but you do this by exchanging the ability to percieve the more elemental aspects of the experience. I’m not trying to make a case here for one being better than the other – I am a fan of the fast slick bikes too (as Mr. Duess has indicated, I do like my speed) – but I think that the Harley kind of puts you in real sensory contact with the basics. Once you’ve taken this in, I have no problems saying that the experience becomes richer.
Making your own cured meats puts you in contact with the materials and elements of the process. When I eat prosciutto, salami, pancetta or bacon now, I have a sense of the meat, the spices, the cure, the fermentation, drying, and smoking. I can taste it. And this makes the experience richer. After a lifetime of riding bikes, there is something very simple that the Harley reminded me of – that you’re riding over the ground on a couple of wheels strapped to an engine powered by exploding gasoline. That’s just how I like my bacon – not exploding, but honest.
This is the video companion to the second part of our posting on Makin’ Bacon - Makin’ Bacon – Part 2. The Big Smoke.
As food-wunder-geek Alton Brown said, “Until you’ve made your own bacon, you haven’t eaten bacon”. So kick back, light up a nice blow torch (don’t ask…just watch), and check out the movie for the second part of our Makin’ BAcon tutorial.
To follow the story, you can also check out:
Makin’ Bacon Part 1 – doing the cure
Makin’ Bacon Part 1 – The Movie
Stay tuned for segments on hot smoking, and a review/tutorial on “The Smokinator 1000″ which turns the fabulously modest and flexible Weber kettle grill into an unbelievably effective smoker for less that $100. We’re certain that you’ll love it as we do.
Alright. Where were we. Oh yes. Home made or artisan made bacon is simply the best thing ever. Once you’ve had it, it is not an easy thing to forget!
When I dream of bacon - this is what I see.
We cannot say enough good things about the transformation that the humble pork belly makes when it is cured and then either smoked or simply roasted in the oven. You end up with an ingredient that will transform the simplest soup, stew, salad…um…scone, sandwich, burger, shepherd’s pie, braise….into something really sumptuous.
This is part 2 of our bacon tutorial. Its arguably the simpler part of the bacon making process if you’re familiar with smoking. It becomes even simpler if you simply roast it in the oven. Smoking is not necessary at all. An oven roasted bacon is a beautiful thing. The ever meat-tastic Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall reports that he smokes maybe a quarter of the bacon he makes. He finds that the oven roasted bacon makes for an excellent ingredient as well as being very tasty out of the pan. All this is to say that if you do not have access to a smoker, don’t fret – the oven is a perfect place to finish a bacon.
Our home made bacon has been sitting in the fridge for 5 days in its cure (See Makin’ Bacon part 1…or even better, Bacon – The Movie Part 1). We’ve been turning it once a day and rearranging the pieces so that the each take a turn at the bottom of the stack. After about 5 days, the flesh will firm up and will become a richer hue of redish pink rather than the light pink of the raw pork belly. If it still feels really squishy and looks light pink, give it another day.
Anywhere between 3 and 7 days the belly will be cured. The longer it sits in the cure, though, the saltier it will become. I find that, if I measured 50g (1/4ish cup) of cure per 3-5 lb belly, 5 days works quite nicely. It allows the spices to permeate the meat and the cure is solid but not too salty.
Some people rinse the belly at this stage. I find that when using this curing method, there is no need to rinse. You’ll also get the added bonus of keeping the spices on the meat which adds some nice texture and great flavor to your finished bacon.
Weber at 250 degrees at the top of the dome. This equals 230ish degrees at the grill surface.
Our lovely bacons after about 3 hours in the smoke. The "Smokinator 1000" smokebox is on the left hand side of the grill.
At this point you can either very simply wrap them in foil and roast them in the oven at 250f for about 3 hours to an internal temperature of 130f OR you can hot smoke them.
We’ll be doing an more in depth exploration of smoking at a later point. You can check out the soon to be released movie to get a brief overview. The short story is that you want to smoke it at 230ish degrees for, again, about 3 hours. I like either Oak, Maple, Alder and small amounts of hickory but you’ll need to experiment to get a taste that agrees with the taste buds of you and yours’. These bellies are being smoked in a combination of Oak and Alder (ignore what I said in the video…I changed my mind mid course). I went for a lighter flavoured smoke because I wanted to the spices and the quality of the meat to really shine through. It really gave the bacon a great light smoky flavour that complimented everything very well.
Once the bellies have been smoked or roasted, you’ll want to let them cool a touch, and then cut the rind (skin) off. Its helps to angle the blade up towards the skin while using long even strokes when doing this. It stops you from cutting into the layer of meat underneath.
From here you want to chill the bacons overnight and then carve into portions and freeze what you are not going to use immediately. We vacuum bag ours up and put groovy/nerdy labels (it is a fine line sometimes) on them for friends.
Cinnamon bacon cut into chunks, vacuum packed and ready for the freezer and friends.
Bacon in the cast iron pan with some green tomatoes from the garden.
When you cook this kind of bacon, you will discover that it is nothing like commercial bacon. It does not shrink in the pan at all. The best way to cook it is on low heat. I prefer a cast iron pan but any heavy pan will do the trick.When we finished the bacon, Mrs. Stephenson and I made ourselves these amazing bacon and panfried green tomato sandwiches on rye bread. So so good.
Please keep an eye out for future discussions on smoking and “The Smokenator 1000″ which is the most excellent and ingenious tool that we used in the Weber kettle grill to smoke the bacon.
I can personally vouch for the deliciousness of these sandwiches. They were spectacular.
Some excellent sources for diving deeper into makin’ bacon and meat curing are Michael Ruhmann’s Charcouterie and Mr. Meat, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s River Cottage Meat book. Two different approaches though both very committed to making excellent cured meats.
Stay tuned for the movie accompaniment to this posting. It’ll be coming within a day or so. In the meantime, best of luck with your bacon makin’.
Mr. Duess will love this one. While I was looking about on the internet to make certain that our very recently and most excellently produced instructional bacon video was the best bacon video ever made by a human being ever, I discovered a monstrosity of epic proportion and singular pertubation.
Just to be clear, what you are about to see here has nothing to do with how we make bacon or how we would ever even think of making anything at all. This video really highlights how far away from food the “food industry” is.
Yes…this pretty much confirms that unless you make your own bacon or buy it from a reputable small provider or organic provider, you’re pretty much eating directly from the ass of evil. “…time to put the coffee on and scramble some eggs…” the video says. Holy crap…literally. I may drive a fast car Mr. Duess, but this video gives speed a bad name.
This video puts in to perspective why we are doing what we’re doing here at Stephenson and Duess.
The actual reality of industrial food – especially industrial meat – really comes into view in this video. I’ve watched it a few times now and have to say that, with each view, it becomes clearer and clearer to me that what we are doing here is not just about making good food and having a good time; it is really about recovering food from industrial production, marketing and “experts”. Food IS something that you can make at home, with friends, with good ingredients, with enjoyment. If you do a bit of legwork, it really does not cost much more money. It does, as Mr. Duess is fond of saying, take some time, but even this can be rolled into moments with friends and family or taken as a time to decompress.
In any event, I think that we could and should work our way through these industrial “How its Made” videos. It will be good for a bit of entertainment. It will also, and I’m certain about this, be good information and imagery from which we can sharpen our mission.
How does the saying go? There are two things you don’t want to see being made, hotdogs and legislation.
While it is way too warm, and will be until fall, to properly cold smoke meat and fish, I wanted to at least try the smokehouse. In went some hard boiled eggs, a handful of heirloom tomatoes and some salt.
As you can see, it worked very well.
The smoking bullet on it's first test run
Today I finally tested the cold smoking box I’ve been building. The smoker is about 6″ high, built from pine on the inside and cedar on the outside. The box sits on a concrete block foundation to keep it dry and has a shingle roof.
Smoke is generated by a smoking bullet, fixed to the outside of the box. Air is pushed into the bullet by an aquarium air pump. The smoke is only very slightly warm when entering the smoke chamber. In today’s two hour test run there was no measurable temperature increase in the smoke box.
I had thought about insulating the box – there’s 2″ of space between the inner box and the outside siding, but then I decided against it. After all, it’s a cold smoker, I want it to be cold and come fall, the ambient temperature is supposed to keep the goods from spoiling during the smoking process.
I built the entire box from pine boards, with the result that there were a number of gaps where boards were not butting up perfectly. To make sure that no smoke was leaking I covered the outside with construction paper, completely sealing the smoking box.
Smoking box on the left, storage on the right.
Here’s a shot of the finished box. The smoking box is larger enough for anything I would want to smoke – sausages, fish, even an entire pig’s leg will fit without problems. With a heater installed the box can also be used as a drying box, for everything from biltong to tomatoes.
A simple thermostat connected to an electric fan heater should do the trick just fine. The box isn’t airtight, although there’s remarkably little smoke leakage, so running a fan should not be an issue.
For today’s test run I put a bowl of kosher salt into the smoker, shaking it a couple of times to make sure that the smoke had a time to adhere to all the salt. It smells wonderful, can’t wait to use it.
