A Trot in the Kitchen

Offal has been a hot culinary item in Britain for a few years now. Kidneys, belly of pork, even tripe, are far more common on trendy menus that anyone would have ever guessed. Much of this can of course be attributed to Fergus Henderson of St. John Restaurant in Clerkenwell, a man I have written much about and sprinkled with praise. It is the pig trotter, however, that seems to be the latest culinary fad. The Telegraph wrote about this trend last autumn, just as the Lehman Brothers fiasco ensued, attributing the growth in popularity of ‘ration-era cuts’ to the credit crunch. Certainly money saved in your pocketbook is one reason to give trotters a go, but let’s hope this is not a fad. Trotters, or pig’s feet as they are called in North America, are not to be snooted at.

In the spirit of thriftiness, using trotters to make use of the whole beast is not only economical, but also (potentially) eco-friendly. Using the whole of the beast and varying the cuts of meat purchased could reduce the aggregate demand of meat reduced if more consumers followed this practice. Fewer animals would need to be raised for slaughter if we weren’t all demanding fillets and pork chops. Organic cuts are even ridiculously cheap (I paid 50p a piece for organic trotters). Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall has commented about this extensively, yet it doesn’t seem the public has been ready to take the plunge. Why is that we seem to have cold trotters, ahem, feet?

Trotters have an unusual texture. They can be chewy in parts, while tender and fatty elsewhere. Sometimes they are just downright tough. Cooking trotters appropriately is the key to yielding a pleasing texture – slow and steady is the order of the day when trotters are on the menu. At the risk of sounding picky, I am rather indifferent to trotters cooked and served whole. Think Chinese-style pig’s trotters, sticky with a five-spice glaze, or stuffed trotters in a paysanne manner. The tough, chewy, and tender bits are scattered and not in harmony. This is what turns me off. It requires much effort and motivation to keep searching for those perfect bites. On more than one occasion I have simply given up. Sauces and stocks are the key.

With their contrasting textures and rich fatty flavour, trotters make the perfect base for a sauce or stock. Slow cooking them yields more meat and tissue. It simply falls off the bone, ensuring a minimum of waste. They are particularly delicious when stewed with wine and onions. Two-thirds of the way through the process, remove the trotters and pick every bit of edible meat, fat, and tissue off the trotter and put these pieces back into your stock, reducing further. While this may sound laborious and time consuming, it really only requires a slow cooker and a few minutes to pick the bones dry. Prep time is negligible, so it can easily be done on a weekend for use at any time during the week. The stock or sauce yielded is wonderfully thick, rich, and savoury, a perfect compliment to pork, poultry, or even game dishes where the meat might run on the dry or boring side. It could even enhance (otherwise) vegetarian dishes.

I have experimented with a few recipes, but still stick to the one in the St. John Cookbook, Nose to Tail Eating, which of course I am not permitted to reproduce here. Do peruse the Internet or your local bookshop for a recipe that sounds suitable to you. One attempt and you may be trotting around with glee and the pig that yielded meal will be pleased you made the most of him.