Leg of Wild Boar - Sanglier

One wild boar leg marinaded for 3 days

6 hours later, a smoking on the BBQ

Some elegant carving

Served at sunset with some griddled accompaniments

On a recent visit to a sleepy village in Provence, my hosts presented me with my first leg of wild boar to cook. The 'Sanglier' had been given by our forthcoming dinner guests, who had shot the boar in neighbouring La Garde Adhemar.

My first consideration in giving this gift the treatment it rightly deserved was to marinade the meat for as long as possible. A few logistical issues of not having a bowl big enough to marinade it, the old mini oven wasn't working properly and the fact the leg wouldn't actually fit in the said oven, were minor details; "Oh just BBQ it" said the hosts.

A bottle of local merlot, a couple of heads of garlic and all the local herbs I could gather, with a small fistful of peppercorns and a big black bin liner sat on the bottom shelf of the fridge with a ritualistic morning massage through the bin bag.

Not having extra wide foil to keep the heat in; the leg not fitting in the oven....... I ummed and arred during the 3 days of marinade as to how confident I felt about BBQing this 6 kilo lump.

On the day of cooking, my host (incidently a vegetarian) took some tree surgeon branch cutters to trim the last 4cms of bone off. Now the leg would fit in the mini oven, which incidently did work, but at what temperature, God only knows. This option failing I would have dug a hole in the ground and built a fine on top. Luckily it didn't come to that, but none the less a good lesson in thinking how to cook our spoils without the usual 21st Century gagets. Some bushcraft skills may have been called upon, even if only as far as emergency planning......

I opted for my favourite method of cooking, which is a long, low and slow roast. After 3 days marinading, the leg was deep red. I simply popped it onto a ludicrously small roasting tin, with as much marinade as would fit in the tin and a piece of foil to help keep what dubious heat was there to stay where I wanted it. Into the mini oven at a temperature I would guess to be 100 -120C. Timings, temperatures and all the usual reference points had long gone out of the window. The delerious smells told us all that something remarkable was unfolding.

Here the leg roasted for 6 hours. As the BBQ was alight to griddle the courgettes and figs, it seemed a good idea to anoint the leg with some smokey charcoal flavour. The whole meal was an improvisation and that's how these kind of cook-ups should be.

The griddled figs were a complement to the gamey, robust flavour of the boar. For the sauce I simply made a little roux and fed the cooking juices and extra marinade to it. I added some water and a little lemon juice to bring down the overwhelming intensity. Some plum, fig or red currant jam would not have gone amiss; anything in fact that I could imagine the wild boar foraging for.

Our guests who had brought this leg, carved the joint with no small amount of skill, deftly removing the bone and elegantly slicing it across the grain.

As the Provencal sun set there were murmers of approval and satisfaction. The simple rule of marinading and long, slow cooking triumphed once again.

Incidently my vegetarian host tucked in appreciatively!

I list the whole process below without the ramblings....

• One leg of wild boar
• 2 whole heads of garlic
• 1 bottle of red wine
• Handfuls of marjoram, rosemary, sage, bayleaf, thyme, fennel fonds, juniper berries
• For the sauce, 50gms butter, 50gms plain flour

1. In a big roomy plastic or stainless steel bowl (or bin bag if that's all available) place the leg with all the marinade ingredients (garlic chopped up small).
2. Leave in the fridge covered for 3 days, turning to ensure even coverage.
3. Preheat the oven to 120C and place the leg in as room a roasting tin as you have and pour over as much of the marinade as possible. Cover with foil losely.
4. Roast for 6 hours with periodic bastings to ensure the joint is moist.
5. Allow to rest.
6. To make the sauce, make a roux by melting the butter in a saucepan and adding the flour. Allow to bubble for a minute.
7. Remove from direct heat and slowly add the cooking juices, incorporating fully before adding more. Add the strained marinade as well if you have any.
8. Check the flavour, and if too intense, add some water and a little lemon juice. Allow to come to the boil and simmer for a few minutes to thicken and reduce slightly.
9. Taste Add some plum jam, or red currant jelly and serve.

Slow Roasted Asian Spiced Pork

Thank God for the breeders of good pigs! When experts who really know what they are doing produce livestock by rearing animals in humane and excellent conditions, you get meat which tastes amazing. 

The ensuing meal was succulent and full of flavour; I did very little, introduced some exotic spices and a long, slow roast.  It was that  easy......

This recipe feeds 8 comfortably

• 3kilo boned and rolled shoulder of fabulous pork
• 6 cloves garlic
• Some ginger
• 2 red chili
• 2 star anise
• Cinamon stick
• 2 tsp Chinese 5 spice powder
• 2 tBsp Shoyu 
• Juice of 2 lemons
• Some coriander leaves

Method.

Mix all the spices together and marinade the joint preferably overnight.

1. Preheat the oven to 220C.
   
2. Place the marinaded joint in oven for 30 minutes
3. Turn down to 140C for 4 - 5 hours.  
4. Allow to rest covered with foil.
5. To make a sauce, pour off the fat and add some Chinese cooking wine to the pan and bring to the boil, adjust the seasoning with shoyu and some honey and finish with coriander.
6. The meat will be falling apart very easily, you should be able to carve with a fork.
7. Serve with rice or noodles and  some stir fried veg.

Ham and Pea Soup

This is a classic peasant, rustic dish which is nourishing and comforting.  Both my mother and Irish Grandmother made this,  my mum said in the 60's the butcher gave hocks away.  I love the ritual of this soup as much as the end result.  Although it may seem a dish for the colder months, it still hits the spot throughout the year.

The good thing about this soup is that you must go to a butcher or a farmers market to buy your hock, or shank.  Thus supporting our British pork industry.  Especially those who rear rare native breads.   I buy mine from Sillfield  Farm at Borough Market, where you can buy a sizeable hock for £2.95.  This is one of the cheapest cuts you can buy.  The soup is dead simple and simmers away for hours on a low heat making the home smell lovely.  

Here goes.

This will serve a really good 6 portions.

• One ham hock (smoked or unsmoked)
• one large onion peeled and chopped
• 2 sticks of celery chopped small
• 1 leek (ideally, but not essential) cleaned and chopped
• 3 medium carrots chopped small
• bayleaf, sprig of thyme, handful of parsley stalks and all (any variation or all of them)
• 300gms green marrowfat peas (I used green, but yellow are also lovely)
• water and seasoning
• Sunflower oil

1. Place the hock in water and bring to the boil and then discard the water.
2. Fry the onion, carrot, celery, leek with the fresh herbs in oil for 5 minutes or so.
3. Plonk the hock and peas in and add water so that the hock is just covered.
4. Bring to the boil and simmer for at least 2 and half hours.  You want the the peas to be soft and mushy.
5. Remove the hock and allow to cool.  When cool enough to handle remove all the meat, shredding with your fingers.  Add to the pot and season to taste.  Be careful with the salt if you have used a cured hock.  
6. Add some fresh parsley as you serve and some lovely rustic bread.  Also a jacket potato and lashings of butter will make this a fine meal.

Thank you to Anne Carter for beautiful photography.

Belly of Pork with Cider & Apple Sauce

I am writing a series of recipes for an exceptional Cumbrian rare breed pig farmer. Here is the classic slow cooked belly of pork with it's best friend of cider and apples. At Borough Market one can pick up some fabulous New Forest Cider and Chegworth Valley Heritage Apples and the legendary Sillfield Farm, of Cumbrian rare breed pork and wild boar fame.

This recipe is a stunner, even if I say so myself. There is something so appealing to our carnivorous natures when presented with a joint of belly pork, the crackling begging a gloves off for the biggest portion, the succulent melting fat and sweet, tender meat.

For the cook, the choices of how to cook it present an embarrassment of riches. The last couple of belly porks I cooked have been rustic and french farm house style with lentils, and with oriental leanings; chili, ginger, 5-spice and honey with sticky rice.

But today I wanted to celebrate British produce, with apples and cider and all things West Country, or Kent one may argue.

Here is the recipe which will serve 4 very well.

• 1 Pork belly approx 1750 - 2000gm
• 2 Large onions sliced
• 250ml (1 glass) English Cider
• 2 English eating apples
• 150gm Pancetta cubed
  
• Thyme stripped from the stalk
  
• 2 Tbsp Crème fraiche
• Seasoning
  

Preheat the oven to 150C/Gas 2

Simply

1. Score the fat with criss cross lines.
2. Pat the skin dry and sprinke with salt.
3. Place the sliced onions in a baking tin and place joint on top.
4. Roast for 3 hours.
5. Remove the joint allow to rest while you make the sauce, pour off the excess fat.
   
6. Fry the pancetta until brown and crispy, whilst frying cut the apples into thick slices with skin on then add to the pancetta to colour, add the caramelised onions to combine. Add the cider and bring to the boil and reduce a little, add the creme fraiche, check seasoning.
   
7. Serve with mashed potatoes, or crushed seasonal potatoes with some robust green vegetables.