Rillettes

Art Culinaire, Wntr, 2002

Pork is perhaps the greatest gift brought to the New World, vastly expanding the cuisines of North and South America. Along with the inheritance of pork came the European tradition of charcuterie. The tradition of salting pork and lard evolved during the 13th century in Southern Europe. Ears, snouts, trotters, intestines--hardly a drop of blood was wasted. The trade of charcutiers and saucissiers eventually worked its way to the great northern cities of Europe in the late 1400s. However, the domestication of pigs originated in the Middle East thousands of years before, perhaps making pigs and dogs the first domesticated animals. Pigs of Egypt, ancient Rome, and even Medieval Europe scarcely resembled the swine of today's market, weighing in at 50-150 pounds, a fraction of their current size (Flandrin and Montanari 170). Because pigs of ancient times primarily foraged for food, their meat was dark and lean, similar to wild boar and often referred to as a red meat. Pigs were also kept by farmers for a longer p eriod of time, reaching their second year was not uncommon; the meat was more highly prized as the animal was able to reach optimum size. When breeding sows outlived their purpose they were sent to slaughter. Once butchered, the meat was slow cooked in its own fat to help the relatively tough, dry meat develop more complex flavors and a buttery texture. When removed from the heat, some cuts were chopped and blended with the cooking fat to produce a moist paste, which could be spread over bread. Today most pigs are kept in confined pens, fed a strict diet, and are slaughtered before their eighth month. The result is an impressive species of animal with a high yield.

The term rillettes, meaning plank, perhaps refers to the final product and its appearance when spread on sliced bread. Rillettes were traditionally made with fatty pork belly or pork shoulder. The meat was cubed, heavily salted, and cured for twelve hours. The meat was then cooked slowly over low flames until very tender. That being done, the flesh was raked into small shreds and blended with the warm cooking fat to form a rustic paste. Rillettes could be stored in crocks for several days. In Anjou, rillaud was a specialty, plated in the shape of a pyramid and topped with the pig's tail; the rillettes were proudly displayed to the guest of honor. In time the rillette cooking style was applied to game birds, wild rabbit, and fish. Eventually several preparations for seafood rillettes were developed including an anchovy, tuna, and salmon version. Though the fish is not actually cooked in the fat, it is blended with fat to form the characteristic paste-spread. The soft, smooth texture is a deciding factor in de termining a good rillette dish. Like cassoulet or fondue, this French dish has its many regional definitions. In general most rillettes are served cold, as a spread with toast points, much like a pate. Pork rillettes from the Northwestern regions of Tours and Anjou are famous for their rich texture and bronze color achieved during the cooking process. These rillettes have lovingly been referred to as "brown jam." In the South of France, rillettes from the La Sarthe province are distinguished by a more rustic texture, complete with larger pieces of pork and less color. Health conscience diners may fail to appreciate the culinary merits of rillettes but some chefs are capable of realizing the potential of this age old technique.

"I had never made a rillette before," Chef Robert Carter of Peninsula Grill admits. "But, once I did, I surprised myself at how good the flavors were." Carter followed the traditional process by marinating meat, poultry, and fish overnight. The ingredients were then pan seared, mixed with some liquid and fat, and set aside to gently simmer for six to eight hours. Once fork tender, the ingredients were drained and shred. Gradually the cooking fat was returned to the ingredients and blended to form a spread with a high fat content, "making them fabulous," according to Carter. "I'm using them for the evening's amuse bouche," he enthuses.

Cooking things in fat, other than frying and pulverizing the meat is not an unusual habit for a chef like Michael Kramer of McCrady's whose cooking style is breathing new life into the dining scene of South Carolina. "Lots of guys are doing the 'New South' cooking style; lots of grits, collard greens, they're larding and barding lots of things, and the premise of rillettes is still felt," Kramer notes. His approach, inspired and practical, employs the fruity quality of olive oil as a poaching medium for fish, or a chilled, fat bound lobster salad to keeps it light but true to tradition. "Salmon rillettes are nothing like a pork rillette because you don't cook anything in fat--you just combine smoked salmon, salmon, and fat," Kramer adds. "I like to do that type of a preparation with rich fish."

Not all chefs embrace conventional wisdom, and Paul Liebrandt of Atlas is no exception. One could certainly argue the merits of a rillette lacking duck or pork fat, and practically devoid of meat, however on close examination, Liebrandt's dishes exemplify the premise of binding an item in fat, whether it be sheeps' milk yogurt, pistachio oil, dairy fat, cocoa fat, or nut oil. "Rillettes obviously just means bound in fat or having been mixed in fat," Liebrandt explains. "Most people automatically think of duck rillette or salmon rillette and I wanted to get away from the classical understanding and do something that was technically speaking, a rillette, but not necessarily cooked in fat."