A pork, a salt and a blow torch. One of these things …

This was one of those meals when you only have 45 minutes to get ready, the sun is setting and the children want food now. The pork roast I bought was completely devoid of visible fat and figured just cook the damned thing and get dinner over with. I had originally purchased it for the smoker (was going to wrap it in bacon). All that, and I was tired, cranky and my back was a little sore, grrrrr. Get it? Grrrr?
It wasn’t until I turned the little gem over to reveal the reversed side was completely covered in a nice layer of fat! Um, make a u-turn Biggles and get back on track. And you know what? I did just that, and quite a bit more. I totally rule, come see why.

My back stopped hurting, inspiration flowed and I just plain felt so much better.
Meat, it heals! It’s akin to yoga, I think.
Score fat, rub with salt like you would a dry rub. Speaking of which, I don’t plan on using any more dry rubs. I’m done and tasted so many over the years, losing interest I y’am. Set aside either in the fridge (1 hour to overnight), remember to pull and and bring to room temperature.
Set oven to 350 or whatever, it doesn’t really matter. If you do it at 325 you’ll get a very evenly done roast, but it’ll take longer. If you do it at 375 or higher, it’ll take less time. But for small roasts you run the risk of overcooking it. Although, you will get a nicer caramelly.
Here’s where I put on my thinkin’ toque, I wanted more heat lower and under the roast. It’s a small rig and if the sides of my fry pan or roaster are too high, I won’t get that direct searing heat I’m looking for. How to get that high and on top? I figured a way out!
That’s right folks, I put my cast iron trivet and laid it in an aluminum pie tin. No huge cast iron fry pan, no hugeass roaster, no glass to mess with my flow.
In 50 minutes, we were at 138, perfection squared. But you know, 350 just don’t garner no cracklin’s on the fat. Sure, it’s cooked and all. But I wanted some deep brown action, something to sink my teeth in to.
I know. A blow torch! I keep a propane fired blow torch at hand for all occasions and that sucker made quick work of the fat. The boys were immobile during the attraction and I will admit it was a lot of fun to burn fat with it. A pork, a salt and a blow torch. All of these things belong together.
ps – Oh yeah, here:

17 thoughts on “A pork, a salt and a blow torch. One of these things …

  1. I’ll take “two” servings, thanks very much. It is 5:52; I’m hungry and there is nothing in my fridge ready to eat!

  2. Wanna know something cool? I just put the last sliver in the microwave on low for about 35 seconds and munched.
    It’s gone and even that was absolutely divine.
    I won’t give up the fresh herbs or citrus, I don’t think so. But damned, it’s so perfect.

  3. Yes, Biggles — perfect pink porkiness. You are some kind of genius, you are. I would love to duplicate it (shopping list: propane torch, cast iron trivet — ) Small miracle of very plain seasoning. You can always serve citrus, etc., alongside.

  4. Master Biggles,
    Huge Canadian Bacon its not. Gloriously beautiful it is. Seems it is a fine line when defining “Playing with your food”…………

  5. PS I once had a strange night in New Orleans (aren’t they all?) that ended up in a place out on the lake where a Turk stood behind a heavy plate glass wall and cooked everything with torches — steaks, ribs, chicken. It was very weird, esp. since I could have been eating some righteous Nawlins food instead of sitting in a room filled with fumes and — well, drunks.

  6. Hey Anna,
    Shooting meat is like taking pictures of small children or pets, like shooting fish in a barrel. Way too easy.
    Plus it helps to cook meat that tastes good instead of meat that just looks good.