Sows Gone Wild
I assume I’m ineligible for the prize winnings, but my competitive streak won’t let me pass up the gauntlet gansie threw done with the varmint cooking contest.
Unfortunately, the food co-op was sorely lacking in the squirrel, mole and chipmunk departments, so the craziest thing I could find was wild boar. I know, not exactly scurrying folk, but really, it might not be a wild boar, it might be a rodent of unusual size.
Anyways, it’s from D’artagnan, so I jumped. Aside: can we talk about how awesome the D’artagnan brand is? I’ve already told you about their duck bacon. But I’ve been stockpiling their other fancy-pants provisions too, like chicken truffle sausage, dried porcinis and more. Plus, they are apparently all earthy and sustainable to boot. I swear this is not paid promotion, I’m just blown away by their meat.
And, this particular wild boar mini-roast is made from the knuckle of animal, and while I’m not exactly sure what that means, it sounds pretty damn varmint-y to me.
Back to the boar…
I figure if you’re going to serve wild boar, there’s no reason to play it safe, so I concocted a crazy glaze to go over it:
– Two tablespoons of extra virgin
– A tablespoon of brown sugar
– 1 clove chopped garlic
– A handful of chopped ginger
– A drop of black truffle oil
– Splash of Coca-cola
– Salt and pepper.
I don’t like to make grandiose claims, but a quick search of the Internet tentatively reveals me to be the first food blogger ever to combine truffle oil and coke. This may sound like as good a match as a blind date between Britney Spears and Alan Greenspan, but I have to say they took to each other – and I loved the sweet and salty, rich
unami umami (I should not pretend to be such a gourmet) result.
I brushed the glaze all over the WB and cooked it for about 45 mins.
All in all, I have to say I side with the meat industrial complex again. As fun as it was to cook something unusual, it was a little too gamey and chewy. If I was lost in the wilderness and ran into one of these guys, I would take it down, but if I see it at the store again next to a salty pink ham, I can’t imagine I’ll choose the boar.