Yesterday I finally embarked on making pulled pork. Its tremendous popularity in the last five or so years has made it a frequent menu item everywhere, and it's fast becoming a feature of many establishments including the food trucks that stake their whole business on it. While this is definitely not a bad thing, it does make me want to conquer this ubiquitous object of our desires.
Really, pulled pork came from roasting a whole hog in a barbecue pit for hours and hours, tender- and lovingly basted and kept turning - including through the night - to ensure even, slow cooking. American barbecue culture can probably claim the phenomenon, but this method of creating juicy-fall-off-the-bone pork is also seen in the Central & South Americas, and Asia, for example in the Philippines with their famed lechon (perhaps an American legacy in the country) which I enjoyed late last year.
Obviously cooking an entire pig is a luxury of time and money that not all of us can afford. So, in the day when the pork shoulder, or "Boston butt" in America, was an economical piece of meat to buy, as it was a fatty, tough-skinned, hard-working piece of meat, folks made lemonade out of lemons. They understood that slow-and-low cooking could make this piece of meat tender, flavourful, pull-apart and juicy.
I don't know about you, but I am often allured by the '8 to 14-hour slow-roasted pulled pork' on the menus, yet recently, I've become skeptical. The last few times I've encountered it, the pork has been dry, a little stringy, not all that flavourful. I find vendors often relying on their accompaniments, e.g. sauce or slaw, to try and salvage the lack of moisture that one comes to expect from pulled pork. (One exception, however, was the pulled pork burger I tasted a month ago at Duke's Brew & Cue in Hackney, London. Amaze.)
However, last night, I felt empathy. Whether it was that my pork shoulder was boneless (most recipes recommend bone-in for maximum flavour, which I'd attest to usually, but my shoulder was on sale and at a good price); and/or, that I just didn't leave it in the oven for long enough (6 hours at 140degC/285degF) to let the muscular tissue to break down and dissolve. The result, in any case, was dry pork with a thick layer of fat still existent under the skin. Next time, I will undoubtedly go for bone-in shoulder and at least 8 hours cooking time, or however long it takes to allow the meat to become spoonable. (I admit, I was late putting it in, impatient... and hungry!)
In terms of flavour however, the pork was delicious. A little dry, yes, but tasty. I simply seasoned it in ample salt and pepper before roasting (however I'm curious that in Felicity Cloake's experimentation, she barely mentions pepper and favours sugar for basic seasoning - another aspect to test). I also set it atop quartered onions, garlic cloves and sliced carrots, to keep it elevated and allowing fat to drain off (cooking the carrots and onions to a gluttonous level). I regretted not rubbing in a little smoked paprika ten minutes after it went in the oven, in the after-thought of wanting to impart a slight smokiness, but as J. Kenji Lopez-Alt encourages, I was happy enough to allow my pork to sing for itself, leaving the extra flavours for the accompaniments.
Really, pulled pork came from roasting a whole hog in a barbecue pit for hours and hours, tender- and lovingly basted and kept turning - including through the night - to ensure even, slow cooking. American barbecue culture can probably claim the phenomenon, but this method of creating juicy-fall-off-the-bone pork is also seen in the Central & South Americas, and Asia, for example in the Philippines with their famed lechon (perhaps an American legacy in the country) which I enjoyed late last year.
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| Lechon being sold on the street, El Nido, Palawan, Philippines |
Obviously cooking an entire pig is a luxury of time and money that not all of us can afford. So, in the day when the pork shoulder, or "Boston butt" in America, was an economical piece of meat to buy, as it was a fatty, tough-skinned, hard-working piece of meat, folks made lemonade out of lemons. They understood that slow-and-low cooking could make this piece of meat tender, flavourful, pull-apart and juicy.
I don't know about you, but I am often allured by the '8 to 14-hour slow-roasted pulled pork' on the menus, yet recently, I've become skeptical. The last few times I've encountered it, the pork has been dry, a little stringy, not all that flavourful. I find vendors often relying on their accompaniments, e.g. sauce or slaw, to try and salvage the lack of moisture that one comes to expect from pulled pork. (One exception, however, was the pulled pork burger I tasted a month ago at Duke's Brew & Cue in Hackney, London. Amaze.)
However, last night, I felt empathy. Whether it was that my pork shoulder was boneless (most recipes recommend bone-in for maximum flavour, which I'd attest to usually, but my shoulder was on sale and at a good price); and/or, that I just didn't leave it in the oven for long enough (6 hours at 140degC/285degF) to let the muscular tissue to break down and dissolve. The result, in any case, was dry pork with a thick layer of fat still existent under the skin. Next time, I will undoubtedly go for bone-in shoulder and at least 8 hours cooking time, or however long it takes to allow the meat to become spoonable. (I admit, I was late putting it in, impatient... and hungry!)
 |
| After 6 hours and resting before trying to achieve crispy skin (which I burned half of due to being impatient, again) |
In terms of flavour however, the pork was delicious. A little dry, yes, but tasty. I simply seasoned it in ample salt and pepper before roasting (however I'm curious that in Felicity Cloake's experimentation, she barely mentions pepper and favours sugar for basic seasoning - another aspect to test). I also set it atop quartered onions, garlic cloves and sliced carrots, to keep it elevated and allowing fat to drain off (cooking the carrots and onions to a gluttonous level). I regretted not rubbing in a little smoked paprika ten minutes after it went in the oven, in the after-thought of wanting to impart a slight smokiness, but as J. Kenji Lopez-Alt encourages, I was happy enough to allow my pork to sing for itself, leaving the extra flavours for the accompaniments.
