Pork ‘n peaches

August 15, 2012

A pig loves him a peach.

I really hate that this post is only an approximation of what I think I did to this piece of pig when I was cooking but not blogging about it. I kinda-sorta think I remember what I did, but I’m not real sure.

This piggy is just peachy.

First, there’s the pork. This is a smallish cut of Boston butt, from my Mountain Pastures (damn, it’s hard not to type Mountain Meadows, but that’s my inner history geek coming out) CSA. I do vividly recall the beginnings of this dish, which had to do with sprinkling this baby down with a dry rub (it may have been Rendezvous, it may have been Spade L, it may have been my proprietary rub, but it was dry), sealing it in a vacuum bag, and sous viding it (I am not sure that is a word, but I just made it one) for a couple of days.

I do love sous vide, where if you don’t want to eat something tonight, you can cook that sucker another 24 hours and it won’t hurt it. It was well worth the investment of $160 for my sous vide circulator. I wholeheartedly endorse this thing. It’s wonderful.

Anyway. I had sous vided said Boston butt. And then I bought peaches at the Farmers’ Market.

Here is where my memory gets fuzzy.

To the best of my recollection (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it), I had a big ol’ basket of peaches. I halved and peeled them. Two or three of them, I diced up, stuck in a saucepan, and simmered down with some cayenne, some seasoned salt, some smoked paprika, and some cumin. And when they got good and soft, I pureed them. The rest of them, I nestled around the sous vided for an undetermined number of hours Boston butt, and sprinkled them with chile powder. Then I glazed the butt with the peachy barbecue-ish sauce. Then I stuck it in a 450-degree oven for 30 minutes to glaze everything and soften up the half-peaches nicely.

Or at least, that’s what I would’ve done had I been thinking about it. What I may have done is shrouded in the mists of non-memory.

Dinner. Even vaguely remembered, it’s good.

I do recall tossing new potatos in a bowl with olive oil, and sliding them in the oven along with the pork. And I remember frying okra. I do not remember slicing tomatos, but hey, that’s just muscle memory coming out.

In any event, it was fine. A pig loves him a peach. You and y’mama ‘n ’em bear that in mind.

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