Read Online A Pig in Provence by Georgeanne Brennan - Free Book Online Page B

indicate that the throat meat of the pig, sometimes called pork sweetbreads because the throat is where sweetbreads are located in a bovine, was used in combination with the liver. Although
caillettes
appear to have originated as humble family fare, the famous Curnonsky includes them in his classic
Le trésor gastronomique de France
as a regional specialty. They are found outside Provence, but are never- theless considered a
charcuterie
typical of the region. The most illustrious of the Provençal
caillettes
are said to come from the Var, the département, or province, where we were living, and are sometimes called caillettes varoises. Not surprisingly, different villages each have their own way of preparing them.
    In Cotignac, where Marie’s family settled after leaving Calabria in 1946, the
caillettes
are made with the kidneys and lungs as well as the liver, and that was how we made ours that day in Marie’s kitchen. Once they were done, we put them on platters to cool, and Bernadette spoke up, “Save the
jus,
too. Don’t pour that out.”
    She then turned to me. “In the old days the
jus
was a special treat. You can see how the fat has melted, and when we were children we would grill pieces of bread in the fireplace to soak up the
jus.
” She tore off several pieces of bread from a leftover
baguette.
“Here, try this.”
    She dipped a piece into the juices and handed it to me. “Ethel, Aileen,
venez ici!”
she cried, calling the girls from the back bedroom where they were playing, and handed them each a piece of bread. “Go on, dip it in.” She tilted the baking dish toward them.
“Non! Je veux pas!”
Aileen, at three years old, knew her own mind, and clearly wasn’t having any. It wasn’t until she was a young woman that she became as appreciative of her mother’s cooking as everyone else was, and there are still a number of things she won’t eat. Among them is her grandmother’s chocolate cake made with pig’s blood, which I can attest tastes wonderful, though I can understand how others might be reluctant to eat it again once they know why it is so moist. Ethel, on the other hand, took a big dip of the warm
jus
and smacked her lips. I don’t think she could be enticed so easily today, but when she was little she would usually eat anything as long as it was good. The hot
jus
was delicious, richly flavored with garlic and seasonings and tasting faintly of liver.
    J.-B. Reboul’s classic
La cuisinière provençale,
a cookbook first published in the 1900s in Marseilles, includes a recipe titled
Crépinettes de foie à la villageoise ou gayettes. Gayettes
is anotherspelling of
caillettes.
You begin by putting the cubed fat in one plate, the cubed pork liver in another, and then seasoning the fat well with a mixture of salt, pepper, spices, and three or four cloves of minced garlic. Next, you lay squares of caul fat on the table and layer each one first with cubed fat and then with cubed liver. You repeat this twice. The caul fat is tied with string to make a packet, and the
caillettes
are baked in a
gratin
dish for about half an hour. They are typically served cold and sliced, like
pâté
.
    A fine
caillette
is still much appreciated at local dinner tables, but since few people make their own anymore, it is necessary to find a
charcutier
who not only makes his own, but also makes good ones. M. Desmoulins is just such a butcher. He no longer has his fixed shop in Aups, a neighboring village, preferring instead to keep only his traveling shop. It is a special van outfitted with an upper panel that folds up to reveal a long, refrigerated, glass-protected counter filled with house-made
charcuterie,
roasts, shanks, and various cuts of pork, beef, and lamb. A large selection of sharp knives and cutting boards is visible and the interior is gleaming, bright white. M. Desmoulins stands behind the counter ready to serve, take orders, chat, and answer questions. I have often bought
caillettes
from him when he makes