SC - Pot Luck Part two....

[Brian L. Rygg or Laura Barbee-Rygg]

Forgive the bandwidth but Phlip's comment brought to mind something that I did
years ago and I hear confession is good for the soul (plus you will have a true
story to pass on to others at your cooking classes).  (My Peer - read no
further!, unless I already told you this story)

First off, I was raised a western city girl (the debutante-type, both parents
teachers) and was never around any farm animals except for horses.  I had just
moved to South Georgia and a brother-in-law gave me a whole living hog for a
present.  That animal weighed in the 100's and was HUGE.   They had it taken to
the local slaughter house for me and all I had to do was show up on "cutting
day".  I drove the 200 miles to the small little town that had _my  hog_.   When
I arrived a tiny little old lady (and you could tell she was
financially-strapped) was waiting for the butcher.  When I arrived they started
to wait on me before her.  I complained, but SHE insisted that I MUST go first.
She had come for scraps.  So I did.  Well, they brought the monster out and
threw it on the table.  First they wanted to know how I wanted the head split
and cut.  THE HEAD!!!???  Whatever for???  I was told to fry the brains with
scrambled eggs, make brunswick stew and hog's head cheese.  Yea, right!  I
glanced at the lady and asked her if she wanted the head.  She jumped at it.
Then they asked about the skin - "give it to her, I said".  Then the legs -
"give it to her".  The huge bag of white fat - "yea, pass it her way".  Then the
tenderloins -"they looked nasty, so she got them".  The feet - "you know the
line".   And you know that she got the organs, the guts and all the other "yucky
stuff".  It went this way for quite sometime.  The lady left for a while and
returned with about 10 little kids of all ages.

The butcher wanted to know how I wanted the chops and steaks cuts - "well, like
they come in the little plastic trays at the grocery store!"  (What a question -
and I thought he was a butcher!)

And the hams??  Well, like they come in cans - sweet.  "You mean sugar-cured?"
the butcher asked.  YES!!!  That's it!  I want the whole rest of the pig
sugar-cured.  He tried to talk me out of it, but I "KNOW" my pig!!!  He gave in
and said to come back in a few weeks and I left with a small box of meat.  As I
drove off, I saw the little lady and the kids walking down the dirt road with
their arms loaded with the "weird parts" of my pig.  They all smiled and waved
to me as I drove by.

Before I got home the phone was ringing.  The butcher had called the
brother-in-law, who called the husband and TOLD ON ME!!!  Seems they _thought_ I
THREW THE HOG AWAY!!  Everyone was mad at me for sometime AND they NEVER gave us
a hog again!   (Maybe that is the REAL reason I got divorced, hmmmmm)

I have since learned better.  Well, a little better.  ;-)   And found a more
forgiving man.   :-)  and an understanding Peer.

THLady Rayne
Meridies

Alderton, Philip wrote:

> Great, Nanna, I'd love to have your advice and suggestions for the
> redactions as well, considering both your experience, and the fact that all
> I've ever done with heads of any species is cut them in half and rerove the
> brains and tongue, and the jowls on hogs.
>
> Phlip
>
> phlip at morganco.net
>
> Philippa Farrour-Caer Frig-Southeastern Ohio
>




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