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â- â- > "i ^ J^ â€" ^•â-  * - r. r ^r i» ^ « ♦ P' 4tr «k â- Â» « % *. 'T k -» â-  •^ h -T •^ ^ -t â- t :t 4 ^ r -T '^â-  » * * -*• -t -r t --^ «% -». ^ ^'• t ^•• r> -^ <». -» r ?^ « r n -^ M- * '^ ^â-  -1 <* A •*.- * 'T- ^ >â-  ^» ^ » V J » T t -^ J» T T -f- 7 •r <r -A M- â- r- "T t f r- t r n «« ^. ^~. ."<. >k -^ * â- ^ -A *~ ^ 1 >â-  n ^ ^ r- ^ T n % r >â€" ^ -f r < T 11 4 •^ ^ t f â- t A- » T * § ^ About The Pleasures Of Pig -Curing At Home By Geoffrey Boumphrey Is there any more beautiful word in the language than 'ham' â€" unless it is 'bacon' â€" or, better still, 'bacon and eggs'â€" or 'ham and eggs' for tliat matter? V'es! They are beau- tiful words, I think, and I am pre- r.ared to argue about it. Who was it who said that beauty lies in the rye of the beholder? Someone with ETithority, I know. Well, you have only to substitute another sense- organ for the eye, and ham passes the tiSst with flying colours. But, you know, I have an awful Jiceling that I may be talking to ^j^p'art of a generation that does not â- â€¢â€¢ know what ham is, or at any rate uhat it can be. By ham I do not mean that bright-pink, moist stuft that tastes so much of salt. Real ham is a soft, almost greyish- and the lean is not moist, it a'most dry, and the fibres have matured and softened until the gen- eral texture js almost crumbly. But enough of this preliminary appetite-whetting: let ns get down ro brass tacks. On^i tlis reasons tor living in the rountry (if any reason nee^l^^^J^ be given) is that in the country it is generally pos- sible to keep a pig. One of the many grand things about pigs is that they are far the most efficient food-converters of any domestic animal. Voti can reckon that q4 rif 'flie valuable food you give them (during adolescence, that is,) aboi/t one-fifth remains in the pig, largely as bacon â€" or ham. There is another advantage, too, in the single-mindedness with which a pig concentrates on its life's work of putting on weight. Long before the butcher comes, you will be estimating the weight ot the hams, and even visualizing the long flanks neatly divided into rashers â€" all this without the slight- est feeling of tactlessness. I will admit that my first pig-killing day did not dawn without a sHght sense cl uneasiness; but I was raw, and did not quite know what to ex- pect. Now, those two occasions in the year are red-letter days, as they have been in Merrie England for hundreds of years. The butcher ar- lives in his van, bringing his a.<i- sistant with him. The pig has not been fed for twenty-four hours, and so is interested in nothing in the world except the contents of the bucket that he follows obligingly to the appointed place. There is a slight report and he is wafted to the Elysian fields, in the final be- lief that, at lasi, he is going to get his head down in that bucket that smells so good. A beautiful end â€" which of us, with his mentality, would ask for anything better? Perhaps an hour later, Mr. Brown, as I will call him, and his assistant, come into my kitchen; 4nd we drink a tankard or two of beer. The conversation follows rather the lines used when you go to see somebody's new baby. I am left with the impression (just as the mother ought to be) that I have been a very efficient producer, and that the product is one of the finest specimens seen round these parts for many a long day. Also, there is the great fun of guessing the weight. Mr. Brown thinks it will make every pound cf twelve score: I say, modestly, that I. should think it will top eleven score, at any rate. There was an occasion when the weight was eighteen score, and there, hanging from the beams, was a vast carcass like a mammoth's; but, nowadays, apart from the kudos of having reared such a pig, 1 like them about ten or twelve score. Brightwell Brandy â€" what a pig she was! The quint-essence of food conversation! As soon as the carcass has been weighed, it is let down with block and tackle, and cut up ready for curing. There are many different ways of doing this, according to whether you want a long ham or a round one, how much you are go- ing to use fresh as roast pork, and £0 on. Personally, I always find there are so many bits and pieces which have to be used up more or less fresli (to_say nothing of brawn) that I cure almost every- thing possible; two hams cut short and round), two shoulders, two Bath chaps ^or cheeks), and two sides of bacon, including the neck, Many Different Methods of Curing I did not start out with the idea of doing my own curing, when I first kept a pig. I meant to send it away to a bacon factory to be cnrei for me, as most of my friends do. In fact, I made a tour of their houses in turn, to taste their pig and see which fattory's cure I liked best. But. as my pig grew fatter, memories of the hams I had eaten long ago came to haunt me, and I decided I would cure the the hams, at least, myself, and send the rest away to b^ done. Even that reser\-ation perished after a chat with a farmer friend of mine, and a taste of his home- cured bacon and ham. He said it v.-as easy enough, and he offered to lend me the tub he cured ^liis ham in. I borrowed a wooden trough from somebody else to do the sides of bacon in. That sound* a lot of equipment, but I have simplified things since then. I found that an ordinary earthenware bread- crock just holds one ham and one shoulder, and a curing trough is not necessary if you have a long, narrow table and an outhouse floor that you do not mind getting in rather a mess. Then I started collectin;^ recipes and analyzing them. I should think I got about forty in all â€" and they all boiled down to about four differ- ent methods of curing, with minor variations. I went out for simplicity and quality. With my first two pigs I tried about eight different cures, and kept notes to compare with the results. Now I have standardized on two, a simple one for the every- day bacon, and a more exotic one for the less frequent ham. Both start in the traditional way â€"a good rubbing all over with salt and a small proportion of saltpetre: say half an hour's work in all; the same next day, only shorter. On the third day, when the salt v.ill have drawn most of tlie surplus moisture out of the meat, the cures divide. The bacon and Bath chaps stay oa the table and go on getting about five minutes' rubbing a day with the salt and saltpetre mixtures, plus a bit of Demarara sugar â€" that is said to keep the lean soft. The hams and shoulders go into their bread-crocks, and for them 1 make up a wonderful brew of strong beer or stout, molasses or black treacle, a seasoning of all- spice, coriander, and black pepper, a handful of salt and saltpetre, a jhallot, and a good measure of juni- per berries. This is boiled up, al- lowed to cool, and then poured over the joints. Each day, their Gun but not forgotten â€" A pl'ucky date-devil, a Soviet spy, or just a foolhardy feathered friend? Soldiers arc wonderitig just how to classify the sparron- who perched oit the muzzle of a lethal tank jjuu during uiar.oeuvres. .\fter the weapon was fired and the last wisp of suioke had cleared away, then could find no trace of the winged artillery ohserver. "Water's warr). as inavbe if fine, but it can wait," four-year-old Johnny Zeek seems to be telling his dad, he applies the brakes to admire certain aspects of the view on the beach. Who kn he does his double somersault she'll cut the cosmetics and give him a tumble, heart-throb is Tudv Miller, four. ows. The position is reversed, and they are thoroughly basted with the brew. How long you continue the cur- ing depends on how long jou want the meat to keep. I generally cure one side of bacon for just over a fortnight, which means it will keep safely for six months, and the other I give about three weeks, so that it is safe for a year. I do not think a ham or shoulder develops its P.avor until it has matured for at least six months, so they are kept in the brew about eight or ten days for ever>- inch of thickness. The catch about it is that the longer you cure, the saltier the meat and the harder the lean tends to be, though you can offset this to a great extent in the case of bacon by soak- ing each chunk in water for a night as you cut it off the side, before slicing it into rashers. And, by the way, does everyone know the best way to arrange bacon for cooking â€" frying, or, much better, grilling? Overlap the slices like tiles on a roof, screening each lean side from the heat with the fat side of the piece next to it; in this way you can cook the fat thor- oughly, still keeping the lean safe. After curing, wash the meat in cold water (soft water is best; and, personally, I soak mine overnight in it). Then hang up the joints or sides to dry in a not-too-cold room for three weeks or a month, .\fter that, they are best somewhere cool. Sprinkle them with pepper, and sew them up in bags, but cot only to keep flics away (whi:h is the idea of the pepper) but also to pro- tect them from the light, which turns the fat yellow. Could anything be simpler? Hardly any equipment, half-an- hour's work the first day; ten min- utes the second or thirdâ€" and then only seven or eight each oay until the cure is complete. .\nd the re- ward? Well, I have just finished eating tlic last ham of Brightwell Brandy, fifteen months old. It was black outside, and hard as a board, but it swelled out like a sponge after a week's soaking. Who talks of boiling ham? It was simmered gently for nearly four hours, and then allowed to grow almost cold in the water it had cooked in. I skinned it tenderly, drained if. niid sprinkled it uitli bread crumbs while it just still had the chill off. I wish I could describe to you the aroma that filled the dining-room when I cut the first few slices. I happened to have staying witii me a friend who is chairman of the kitchen and wine committees of a big London club. His face was pos- itively transfigured: 'W"hy,' he cried, 'that ham has a bouquet like an old wine!' We ate with some reverence. . and were not disappointed. Could a factory cure have done that for us? The point I would make is that here in home-curing is an age-old craft not really very diificult to learn, needing little or no equip- ment. We complain nowadays that our food is dull, and we have to go without many delicacies that were once imported at reasonable prices. But the humble pig, properly treat- ed, can yield food fit for an epicure or for the gods themselves, and the mere process of curing is not with- out fascination. The pig has been the mainstay of English rural life since Saxon times, and probably before then. Call me a chaw-bacon â€" a yokel? Why shouldn't I be? I am proud of it. (Broadcast in the BBC's Home Service). Gave Him Palace But Wouldn't Pay The eighteenth century was only four years old when the French armies were broken in a fierce battle fought in the tiny village of Blen- heim, -^nd all England went mad in adulation of the man who had won that great victory. What form should a nations gra- titude take? Queen .A.nne did not consult Parliament, but declared: "He shall have the ancie-it Manor of Woodstock. The old. dilapidated home of the Plantagenets shall dis- appear: a noble palace shall rise in its place." Parliament, informed as to Her Majesty's wishes, was also assured that the Queen intended to foot the bill herself, .\ccordingly an .\ct of Parliament was passed. T!ie burn- ing question of the hour then was: Who shall build this arcliitectural masterpiece for the nation's hero? Everybody expected that the choice would fall on Wren. Liut it didn't. The Queen told the Duke of Marlborough to pick his own architect and he chose Jonn \'an- brugh, architect, playwright, man- .T bout-town. That decision laid tlie foundation â- â- iiPP '~W â-  Merrily He Rollers Along â€" It's a jeep, but > oii'd haitlix know it. The weird vehicle is the result of ini^eiuiity at an Wv Force field in Japan. It was born of tlie necessity for uii;ent haste in handling air cargoes, .^s soon as cargo plane lands, the "tlarvey Special" jeep rushes to it with roller convevors that speed up loading and unloadinsf. for something that nobody had fore- seen â€" a lastii^, bitter quarrel b^ tween Vanbrugh, the playwright- architect, and Sarah, the brilliant forceful and power-loving Duchess of Marlborough. "The Queen rules Englandâ€" The Duchess rules the Queen." wa» v.hat people said behind their hands. .\nd it was true! Vanbrugh, who had already de- signed some magnificent great houses, drew up even more elabor- ate plans for the new palace. The Duke rubbed his hands: "Excel- lent!" he e.xclamied. But the Duch- ess became incensed against the project. "Who will pay for all this? she inquired. ".A-nd who would live in such a place? Comfort comes before such show." So great a building involved the problem of finding enough master masons. In the end Vanbrugh got masons from all parts of the 'oun- trj- and a colony of craftsmen and working men settled in Woodstock Then the troubles began. The local stone proved completely un- suitable and an alternative had to b- used. That was bad enough. But presently the contractors were coming to Vanbrugh â€" who was do- ing this immense work for a mo- aest $2,000 a year â€" for mone\. It was awkward. Who was to pay? The Queen, from her private fortune? Parliament, out of the na- tion's resources? Or the millionaire Duke himself? Neither the Queen nor Parlia- ment had stated what limit was to be put on the cost of the project, although official documents stated that Vanbrugh had been appointed Comptroller of the Works, author- ized to act on behalf of 'he Duke. During the long years that Blen- heim Palace was being built this unhappy situation led to much bick- ering. There were consnii: dis- putes about authoritj'. There were incessant quarrels betwe-..Mi Van- brugh and the Duchess. There were periods when there was no ntoney to pay the working people. On one occasion arrears owingf to the contractors, and wages owing to the workmen, led to a strike and tiireats of violence. The men said that they could not pay for their loiigings. and that before they went back to their homes they would ivreck the half-built palace. Vanbrugh. meant this paljce id. h% his masterpiece. VufQrti!!ia':ely, what he nevfr considered w'al money. For example, as he had to come down from London verj- often (.he V7as building the Opera House^ Covent Garden, at the same time) he decided to renovate the old Woodstock Manor House. He had no authority to do this, and he put to work on it men employed on the palace. Having spent over $5,000. he casually mentioned it to the Duchess. The great Sarah tiew into a pas- sion, accusing him of having spent $15,000 on himself, and calling him insulting names. From first to last, on the financial sMe and in the human relations of those most closely concerned ia this grandiloquent project, there had been nothing but the sordid. Nor did the death of the Duke change the situation. He left over two million pounds, a fortune equivalent to $150,000,000 today. But he made no provisioa tor the unpaid workmen or for \"aiibrugh's modest wage. Wheu the will was made pubhc, \ anbrugh «rote to a friend: "And yet this Man would neither pay his Work- men their bills nor his -Architect his Salary. But he had given his Widdow (may a Scotch Ensign get her) £10,000 a year to spod Blenheim her ovn way: £1,200 a Year to keep her Self clean, and go to Law." Thus to the end did bitterness poison the air as there arose one of the most niagniticent palaces in the British Islesâ€" Indeed, in the whole world. * * * Nowadays, from all parts of the world crowds are flocking to thia same Blenheim Palace, regal seat of the Dukes of Marlborough, re- cently opened to the pubhc. As much as S1500 a day is being taken' "at the doors.'' And the first re- quest of nearly every visitor is to see the room where Winstoa Churchill was born. So mtnv people gazing at his baby vest which is on view, giggle and wisecraci". "l bet he couldn't wear it today." that the guides sometimes nearly scream. dsmsh.-') 1 IT WON T BE LONG NOW