Because, Ese, I like To Fry My Stuff In Lard


There may come a point in your home where you should become cold. It will be gradual, but ultimately healthy for you. At this point, pizza dough will not respond to your usual antics. Which brings you to Plan B. I know! Roti! But without the baking powder and instead resuscitating some powdered yeast that froze to death. That’s it and fry it in lard because Mexicans are on the right track with the lard thing. A multi-fusion-culinary explosion of yum. Then dip it! Yes, dip it in your mexican’t salsa with cheap tomatoes that you quickly breathed a new life as Italian cuisine.


Oh yum, lardy, yeasty bread dipped in tomato sauce starring tomato purée, seasonings and cheap tomatoes. Mmmmm. I should write this up. So good. But no, I’m late to the game. I hit the case where Pizza Hut markets too much dough matched with too much sauce. These “bread sticks” are lovely, but nothing new. All I can offer is a quick out when good yeast goes bad.

And Just Like That, All My Lard Is Gone


It was a simple maneuver: Move a few things to let Gangnam Beef snug in for the evening. Everything moved accordingly until I grabbed a small bag of duck fat ( I do believe I’ve mentioned my surplus of duck fat ). It’s like it always had a “thing” for the lard. Like duck fat was not quite the tasteless animal fat that lard is and resents lard for this exact attribute. So in the only way it knew how, the small bag of duck fat grasped the shelf tightly as I tried to move it thus tipping the shelf and all its lardy contents right onto the cold, hard tile smashing all that contacted it. The biscuits, the crisp potatoes, the pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving in one moment have become a dream that will never materialize. I’ll need to find a new charming pig with lovely white gold fat to set our table right. I’m unhappy with you, duck fat, so you will spend some time in the freezer until we both cool down.



Should you look up on the interwebs something to the tune of “how to make lard,” you will find recipes for making lard with a LONG-ass preamble of how unhealthy lard is and “gee, lard … oh wow … so unhealthy … oh but just like masturbating … I shouldn’t really … but oh I love it … oh here’s how to make it.” I hate this hee-haw, so here’s how to make lard without the guilt.  Because rule number one: Lard is good for you.  It is rich in vitamin D.  D!  Like that shit is hard to come by.  It’s just a matter of time before Frito-Lay slaps a “rich in vitamin D” sticker on their packages.  D is the shit, so take a puff.

Assuming you know your way around a stove or stovetop or “hob” (I can never write the word “hob” without giggling),  here’s the order and your day:

–       Pig fat

–       a big pot

–       a day for hanging around the hob [hee hee]

–       a splash of water

–       jars (clean) to put your lard

–       dude, that’s it

Your toughest obstacle here is finding a day and securing pig fat.  If you can’t secure a tractor to hang up the pig that you and your friends tied up, lifted up and slit its throat and collected the blood for sausage but just the first bits of blood, perhaps you can ask your local butcher for pig fat.  They usually have some in the back without a clue of what to do with it.  When the butcher fails you, reach out to your local pig farmer.  Oh they are there, you’ve never noticed because it wasn’t in the cool section at your fancy grocery store.  You see, food comes from farmers.  Crazy talk, but it is the truth.  Figure it out.  Get some pigfat.  And then:

–       cube your fat.  Avoid meaty bits

–       give the meaty bits to your cat or dog or chicken

–       if you get meaty bits in your lard, it will be “savory lard” thus limiting your use of such a wonderful fat

–       okay, if you insist, you can put meaty bits in your lard, but don’t go making pumpkin pie.

–       Stick your cubes in a pan and add a few splashes of water to kick it off

–       Then cook that shit on low heat until there’s a lot of liquid fat and little crumply crunchy things

–       This could take hours

–       But you can do other things

–       Like start your rye bread or think or something interesting that doesn’t involve you, you’re such a narcissist.

That’s it.  When you get a soupy, fatty, bubbly liquid of gold, you grab your sieve (oh yeah, get a sieve to strain the puffy fatty bits) and ladle that beauty in your clean jars.  Then, get on with your busy life.  After your jars cool a bit you need to find time to stick them in the fridge.  Don’t forget to turn off your hob.  You’ll turn it on again some other time, I’m sure.

Easy, now off you go.  When you’re done, you will have lard.  Lard for making great stuff that doesn’t involve unwrapping anything.