Tip to Tail: A Month of Pork: Day 21: Blood and Guts; aka “the stuff I don’t want to cook”

I still had a small amount of pork crackling left after Sunday’s pig’s head celebration. I’m guessing that it keeps for a long time, but it’s so tasty it can’t possibly last that long. The formula for how long pork crackling lasts is as follows: Number of days pork crackling lasts = Number of days until you next plan on eating pork crackling - 1. As you’ll note from the formula, there’s never enough of it.

For breakfast, I decided to finish off what crackling I had left with some eggs done sunny-side-up; the classic South American dish chicharrones con huevos. Try as I might, I couldn’t help sneaking a few pieces of crackling from the dish while the eggs were frying… but I was only sneaking them from myself so no harm no foul.

Lunch was leftovers from last night: pork heart stew. I shared with a couple of non-food losers who enjoyed their small portions. Some others asked what we were eating and there was a subtle recoil when they heard the tasty looking meat was heart. I guess they weren’t quite expecting it to look appetizing…yet it did. They were forced into a battle of mind vs stomach …and all the preconceptions in their mind were winning. This surprising attitude was coming from guys who frequently eat fast food burgers…you know, the ones that have shit in them (See Day 6: Moderation and Eric Schlosser’s “Fast Food Nation”). I suppose what they say is true; ignorance is bliss, especially when it comes to food losers.

For dinner, I went a little off the beaten path. Blood and guts were on the menu, but not at my house. I decided to play a solo visit to one of my favourite late night dives, “Swatow” in Chinatown. There I knew I would be able to find pork’s blood gelatin and intestines, two things I had no interest cooking at home. And while Swatow may be a poorly decorated dive where you’re blinded by the fluorescent lights and the sometimes surly staff rushes you though your meal, I know the food is good. How? You ask. Well if it’s good enough for Susur Lee, it’s good enough for me. I saw him eating there a couple of years ago with his staff after shutting down his own restaurant for the night. It was there at Swatow that I had my first taste of pig’s blood gelatin. The server seemed shocked when I asked about it and told me “You won’t like it, it’s for Chinese people.” I know what he meant to say… “I’ve never seen a gwai-lo order it; you must be crazy.” We ordered it anyways and actually enjoyed it. But when it came to the end of the meal, there was still plenty left and I chose not to take the leftovers with me when I thought of the blood exploding in the microwave when I would re-heat it. The server just looked at me and gave me the “I told you that you wouldn’t like it” look.

Tonight’s episode was no different. When I asked for the pig’s blood the waitress paused and took a long look at me. “Are you sure?” she asked. I told her that I had it before and wanted to try it again. But her relief was cut short when I asked if she had any deep fried pork intestines; I hadn’t seen any on the menu, but was hoping I could get some. “Noooooo”, she said as if to draw it out for emphasis, “we don’t have that”. With obvious disappointment on my face I ordered some pork liver congee instead. Moments later she returned from the kitchen, apparently they did serve pork intestines, but they were an off-menu item. Perfect, I love things that are “off-menu”. No need to change my order, I’d have all three. On intestines: they look like and have the same basic consistency of squid rings. They’re another example of a food that presents a battle between your mind and your stomach. You know they taste good…but you don’t want to admit you like them.

My food hit the table in quick succession and some of the others were obviously wondering how one guy was going to eat all of it. And then I started taking pictures. A kid asked her father why I was doing that. I couldn’t quite make it out, but I think I heard him say: “Well sweetie, that’s easy. Some people are weird.” Weirder still was when the table of young Asian guys sitting next to me ordered the pig’s blood too. Suddenly, what I'd been feeling throughout the whole dinner began to fade; I didn’t feel so alone.