I spent the morning scraping pig fat from pig skin. The fat is diced and placed in a large outdoor cauldron where it is heated until it becomes cicciolini.. salty crispy treats of fried fat. Casa Lanzarotti labels and ties a pretty string around dozens of bagged cicciolini, ready for sale at the next Farmer’s Market.
Turns out, people aren’t the only ones that like lard; chickens like it too. Iris’ father Hans, mans the boiling pot, feeding the fire and stirring the grease. While the chickens circle the cauldron, pecking at any spills, the rooster gets too close and catches on fire. Fortunately for the rooster, Hans smelled the burning feathers and quickly put the flame out before too much damage ensued.
“We almost had chicken for dinner.” he chuckled.
(This wouldn’t be such a bad thing, I thought, since pork seems to be the featured dish of the week.)
It is late as I go to lock the chicken hatch for the night. While there are 5 pens, 13 chickens, only 4 pens are occupied (I ponder this much more than why the chicken crossed the road). By now, I’m familiar with the pecking-order – but still – I count: 4 chickens on the ground in the left corner (check), zero chickens in the first pen (check), 2 chickens in the second pen (check), 4 chickens in the third pen - two, with their tails sticking out (check, check), 2 chickens in the fourth pen (check), and 1 chicken in the last pen (check. HEY! THERE’S AN EGG TOO!) It was one of my proudest moments on the farm .
I ran back with egg in hand. We can have chicken for dinner! .. with a side dish of cicciolini naturally.
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