Man Cooking: Brawn

Warning: the following text contains graphic images and representations of gastronomic carnage, and may not be suitable for vegetarians or fussy eaters.



Last weekend Brendan and I attempted to make brawn. For those of you unfamiliar with a nose to tail type diet, Brawn is similar to terrine and consists of meat suspended in jelly.
And, the part which nearly broke me, the meat is from a pig’s head.







We broadly followed the Fergus Henderson recipe. To summarise:
Simmer the pig’s head with vegetables, a couple of trotters (a great source of gelatin for the jelly), root vegetables and whatever seasoning or herbs you can find for over two hours. We ended up simmering for about four hours in some chicken stock I had made the day before, and some recipes advocate even longer in the pot. We didn’t faff around with brining beforehand. Firstly, I don’t have that much patience, and secondly, I didn’t have three kilos of salt.






Remove head and trotters from pot. Discard any other solids.
Once head and trotters are cool enough to handle, remove all meat and meat like substances (to paraphrase Fergus Henderson - the snout is neither fat nor meat nor cartilage, and yet is tasty) from the head and trotters.





After four hours simmering we could separate the meat with forks. Set meat and meat like substances aside. Bear in mind that for optimal taste sensations there needs to be a small amount of fat included here – this dish will never appear on any calorie controlled menus….
Reduce liquid down, and then cool.

To construct the brawn:
1) Line a dish with cling film, leaving plenty hanging over the sides
2) Add a layer of meat and meat like substances
3) Add a small amount of liquid to cover meat completely
Repeat (2) and (3) until dish is full
Whack brawn on counter top a couple of times, to displace any air bubbles.
Wrap overhanging cling film over top of brawn







Set a weight on top, and refrigerate until firm. I left mine for a week, but the gelatin in the liquid should only need overnight to solidify.

Serve as small slices, on brown toast, with large amounts of salt and pepper. The refrigeration dulls the seasoning, so it needs quite a bit to perk up.

How does it taste?
Really good, unless you spend too long thinking about where exactly it came from.
The meat had a good strong flavour, even though it had been simmered for a while.
After a week in a fridge the jelly was in no mood to crumble, and was very firm.

So what are the down sides, and why did this dish nearly break me?

It started when I was shaving the head prior to cooking - did I mention you have to shave your ingredients, and clean out the ear wax before you cook this bad boy? Before you ask, no I didn’t use Marie’s razor, I used mine. Anyway, I was shaving the eye lashes off when my shaving motion partially opened the pig’s eye. As though it was looking at me, silently reproaching me for my intrusion in the name of gluttony. And yes, I know it couldn’t see me, and yes I know we used to raise pigs when I was little, and yes I know I should harden up, but I still felt a small flutter in my stomach.

It got worse when we removed the meat and meat like substances from the pig head. When I was putting the head into the pot I could fly away to my happy place, and the head meat was still firmly attached to the skull. After four hours simmering the head meat separated from the skull, such that all I had to do was hold up the head meat and the skull fell away. A little gross, especially as the sole part of the head which refused to disconnect from the skull was behind the eyeball which had caused me discomfort earlier.

On a minor point, my kitchen was unprepared for brawn production.





For starters, the pig head I purchased was enormous. I have what I consider to be a gargantuan stock pot, but the pig head filled it up and left no room for the trotters, which I had to decant to a second pot. And, both these pots were overflowing which meant I couldn’t simmer them properly, and had to keep close watch on them. So, already this recipe has exceeded my kitchen’s capacity. And no, I can’t justify purchasing a bigger stock pot, my current pot already looks ridiculously large in our flat.
Second, I broke my tongs and spatula trying to manhandle the head – not only was it bulky, it also weighed in at around four kilos.

Finally, the smell produced from boiling pork, while not unpleasant, is not necessarily nice a la the aroma from roasting / grilling pork or bacon. Mmm bacon.

For five quid it is an extremely cheap day’s entertainment – We started at 930, and with lunch and pub breaks we didn’t finish until 4. However, I think if I was to ever do this again I would start with only half a pig’s head. Or find a smaller pig.

Also, I think I can safely add this to the list of foods I am only allowed to play with in an empty and well aired house.
Now the list reads: mutton pies, muttonbirds, and pig heads. Fair enough, methinks.