The Great Pork Caper

Back in June, at the end of Zac's last school year, his math teacher, Theresa, had a bonfire for the whole school at her house. We fell to talking and it turned out that she was raising eight pigs over the summer. We had been meaning to buy a pig "on the hoof" this year, as we had last year.

Actually, last year we bought a quarter of a pig from a local high-school student whose parents raise beef. We don't really know why she was doing pigs, but heard from our friends Will and Judy (the organic farmers) that she had pigs to sell. Last year we split a pig four ways. That turns out not to have been enough pig! We got sausage, which was marvelous; a lightly-smoked ham that we didn't really know how to cook - it was good, but we didn't cook it well; some ribs that Jordan mistreated on the grill; and a whole lot of chops and loin that were to die for. Before we knew it, it was gone!

So this year we decided to go for a half a pig, which was Theresa's unit of measure. Margy's cousin immediately spoke for the other half, but by that time we had talked the thing up enough that several other people were interested. No problem -- there were seven pigs left to go. So we bought another pig and divided it four ways - among four friends of ours.

Well, today was pig pick-up day, as well as being Halloween. While the kids were out trick-or-treating with their friends (amazing what happens when they get older and one of them can drive!), we drove up to Theresa's to get the pigs. She had taken them over to the local slaughterhouse (a mom-and-pop operation which is where Margy and her cousin picked up our pig last year), and they had delivered (or she had picked up, I'm not sure which) the pig back to her house.

As we drove up to Theresa's house, I could see about eight piles of stuff vaguely silhouetted in the yard - yup, eight piles of half-pig. Everything was vacuum-wrapped in plastic and some cuts were labeled. Of course our daughter had the van and we had the sedan, but everything fit just fine, in two coolers, two boxes, and a plastic garbage bag -- we took five of the eight piles because some friends who had made a separate deal for a half-pig with Theresa were out of town today. We chatted for quite a while about pigs and chickens and their cattle -- they have four Belted Galloway cows and are planning on four more.

So we dropped half- and quarter-pigs off at three friends' houses. By now, all the pigs are safe in freezers, except for the quarter that we're taking to Massachusetts on Saturday for ultimate delivery to the friends with whom Margy stays when she's there working.

In case you're wondering, a half a pig is about 17 pounds of sausage, four packages of chops, four packages of steaks, two pork loins, and either a butt or a rack of ribs. Average for a half a pig: 50 pounds. Still to come are the bacon and the hams, which are still being smoked.

Why, you may ask, are we doing this? If you haven't read about the miserable conditions on hog farms, you really should. Then you can read about the miserable conditions in the slaughterhouses and the incredible pollution the entire commercial pork venture causes. Michael Pollen's book The Omnivore's Dilemma talks a lot about what's wrong with industrial agriculture (though not about pigs specifically). Jordan first learned about how bad pig farming can be from Al Franken's Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them which, in the middle of all of its political exposé, digressed a little on to the evils of hog farming. A number of other New Yorker articles and the like have driven the point home. Jordan tries very hard not to buy commercial pork, with some occasional lapses when the local stuff isn't around. Buying from our friends seems like a good way to support sustainable agriculture, people with decent life-styles, and get great food, all at the same time. What could be better?