|
|
The Cremation of Ethyl A.
Pigg By Dan Gill Customers often ask how long I
have been cooking and if I have a culinary background. Actually, it all
started about ten years ago when I cremated Ethyl. I was raised on a farm and
therefore had a basic appreciation for all aspects of food production,
preservation and preparation. We always had a garden and a milk cow and
killed our own hogs. We made butter and cottage cheese, canned tomatoes,
cured hams, made scrapple and salted herring. We had three hot, sit-down
meals a day – all made from scratch. Table discussions often centered
on what we were eating. Except for the obligatory brownies, cookies and
fudge, I never did much cooking when I was coming along. With a mother, grandmother,
two older sisters and a housekeeper - all excellent cooks - it was hard to
get into the kitchen. What I did cook, however, must have been good because,
after I turned out a batch of peanut butter cookies, our housekeeper said: ŅMister Dan, when you grow up, youÕ
going to be a chef-cookÓ I came along during the
1950s when outdoor cooking with charcoal was just getting popular. Charcoal
was expensive so Daddy bought a small, efficient cast iron Sportsman
Grill. I learned early on that
steaks could be cooked on six pieces of charcoal. If the fire was not quite
hot enough, he wadded up a piece of newspaper to sear the meat. He said that
he was cooking with Kilpatrick (James J. Kilpatrick was then writing
conservative editorials for the Richmond News Leader). In
the winter, we just put the grill in the fireplace so we could cook indoors.
Grilling is not barbecue – I wanted to make barbecue but didnÕt know
how and didnÕt have a pit. When I designed our new house, I
included an indoor barbecue pit. I wanted to roast oysters and make real
barbecue indoors as well as grill steaks. Our house took a long time (four
years) to build, so after the roof was finally on, we figured it was time for
a party. Our daughter Shelley was joining the Air Force and we decided that a
going-away party was a good excuse to try out our new pit. Shelley had raised
a pig named Ethyl. Fattened on corn and kitchen scraps, Ethyl had grown to an
impressive five hundred pounds. She was friendly and loved to be scratched.
It made quite an impression on guests when Ethyl escaped from her pen and ran
straight at them at full tilt, only to stop next to their trembling legs to
be petted. A few days before the party,
Shelley and I did in Ethyl and prepared one of her shoulders for the pit. On
the morning of the party, I got a nice low fire going, inserted EthylÕs
shoulder and went about my business, confident that she was just going to
cook slowly for a long time and magically turn into barbecue. Meantime, Ethyl
heated up and starting dripping fat on the fire. When I opened the door to
check on her, I was met with a wall of flame - Ethyl was fully involved! One
of the craftsmen working on the house saw this and exclaimed: "Dan done
cremated Ethyl!" The rest of the day was spent tending the fire and
periodically extinguishing Ethyl. As it turned out, Ethyl was edible, though
a little crispy on the outside and definitely not barbecue: She had to be
sliced and some guests had difficulty with the idea that their entrˇe had a
name. Shelley did take exception when we raised a
glass to Ethyl before toasting her and her new endeavor. We then named the
pit the "Ethyl A. Pigg Memorial Cooker", complete with a brass
plaque, and I decided that I had better learn how to cook on it. I joined a
newly formed barbecue e-mail list and was soon hooked. In those days, before flame wars
and the flooding of e-mail lists with mindless drivel, I learned a lot about
the art very quickly from some of the best, down-to-earth practitioners from
around the country. Because of my background with curing meat and fish, I
soon became known as "the guru of brining" and participated in
writing a barbecue FAQ that is still available on the Internet ( http://www.bbq-porch.org/faq
). I bought a Weber Smokey Mountain and built a "butt ugly" pit
from a large food warmer and a wood stove: I was well on my way to becoming a
bona fide "pit master".
We hosted the Greater Remlik Oynkster Festival for several years:
Barbecue enthusiasts from around the country descended on our farm and we
cooked whole hog (Rufus) on a cinder block pit and cabrito (young goat) on a
spit among other delicacies (some of which fell into the category of miscellaneous
parts). The last Oynkster Festival was filmed for Virginia Currents on PBS. From there I moved into
food history and became a full-fledged "foody", haunting
restaurants and learning what I could about the business. When we bought the
old GreenÕs Store for our daughter Sarah, it was only natural that I helped
out by making barbecue and smoked meats. It was soon obvious that
"Pinetree One Stop & Deli" was going nowhere as a convenience
store, so Barbara, Sarah and I shut it down and completely remodeled in an
attempt to protect our investment. We then re-opened as "Something
Different" featuring freshly roasted coffees from around the world, my
barbecue and smoked meats, homemade desserts, sides and soups and our
sandwiches on homemade bread. I tell customers that I was tired of losing
money farming so I figured I would diversify and try the food business. All
because I cremated Ethyl!
Note: Last months article on Virginia Spirits was long. My recipe for the Spongy Ryder beverage was carried over to this issue. You can read it online by clicking on the Virginia Spirits link below and scrolling down the page. Something Different Country Store and Deli Published in Pleasant Living
magazine November - December 2006 Previous: Virginia Spirits |
