October 10, 2019 - 27 - "Indefensible Behavior"

True confessions:  

      I eat the skin of pigs. 

     I feel bad about it.  I can't defend it.  It is truly gross if you think about it too much.  Even Michael, who is amazingly tolerant of all my aberrant behaviors, is eeked-out watching me eat pork rinds.

     Pork rinds.  The name alone is an admission of guilt.  The manufacturers know that eating skin sounds waaaayyy too Jeffrey Dahmer for most of us to stomach.  So they just forego that altogether and, instead, use the cop-out euphemism of ‘rinds’. 

    But we all know it’s not a rind.  We’re not talking about a watermelon here.  

     Pigs don't have rinds.  They have skin.  Renaming it is so dehumanizing (deporcinizing?); a transparent attempt to distance ourselves from our own evil-doing.

     The fact is, it is the skin of a (formerly) living, breathing creature.  It had a mama pig and a daddy pig and might even have had it's own little baby pigs, for all we know.  (Now orphaned baby pigs.)   Little, pink, cute,  piglets, that probably all look just like Pooh’s bestie...  So sad!

      Of course this issue arises with any part of any animal that we consume.  If I had to personally kill anything I would be way more likely to be a vegetarian.  I mean, I feel bad about killing bugs. 

     Then again, if I were hungry enough…

     Or craving bacon….

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    Maybe it’s my humble, farm family, roots?  That’s probably it.  I mean, my grandparents on my mom's side regularly wrung the necks of chickens and slaughtered animals that they'd raised themselves.   That was, after all, what they were raised for.  

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     Maybe it’s regional and economic?  I grew up in a milieu where the phrase 'good eatin' was not uncommon.  It’s a very short leap from just saying "good eatin' "to saying:  "those pork rinds are sure good eatin'".   

     I mean, pork skins.  Uh oh.  There's that term again.  

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    I think I'll just go back to euphemisms to distance myself from my own tango with evil?  I like their Mexican name:  chicharrones?  Chicharrones sounds so cute!  Like it could be some sort of latin dance.  The term has zero mental connections in my brain.  (As with so much of the elusive Spanish language, unfortunately.)  Really, I have no idea what the heck chicharrone means.  That makes it so much more palatable.  

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     Here’s the real bottom line:  Chicharrones are simply too close to their delectable food relative:  bacon.  And who can resist bacon?*.

     They have a lot of the same characteristics: 

          Fried?:  Check 

         Salty?:  Check 

         Crunchy?:  Check

         Tasty?:  Check check check!!

    Shoot!  I was trying to say why it's gross and disgusting to eat these but am now kind of in the mood for some.

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"Life expectancy would grow by leaps and bounds if green vegetables smelled as good as bacon."  

-Doug Larson

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Bonus Material! (aka leftover bits of research/thoughts/info):

    

      I had a kind of a breakthrough thought about why some Muslims can be so cranky.  A life without bacon is a sad thing, indeed.

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     From a Paleo Website:  “Pork rind is simply roasted or fried pork skin. Also called cracklings, they are a snack enjoyed all over the world. Most people think of them as an unhealthy indulgence, but we know very well that there is nothing wrong in eating fatty pork skin.”  

     And they provide a recipe…and the upbeat commentary about how cheap it is to buy pork skin from the butcher.  Eke.  I like the santitized, packaged, version, personally.

     I couldn’t really trust in this information as the writer said they were just as good without salt.  Huh.  I can’t agree with this.  I see them, primarily, as a salt-delivery system.  Without salt…what’s the use?

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      I did learn that they really are eaten all over the world.  The most interesting local ‘cracklings’ eating was in Canada: 

     
     Oreilles de crisse is a traditional Quebec dish consisting of deep-fried smoked pork   
     jowls.  It is generally served in cabanes a sucre (sugar shacks) in spring time,  
     traditionally topped with maple syrup.

    
  I was first taken aback by the idea of syrup on bacon...but it does mix on the breakfast plate from time to time and I have no problem eating it.  But what I really liked about this information is that the French name sounded downright chi-chi.  

     And isn't there a song about a sugar shack?  Is that what they've been talking about all these years without me knowing it?  

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     Oh, the things you can learn in this world!  (You're welcome.)

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