I bloody love lardo; the way it melts onto your tongue almost before you put it into your mouth, the fat hit and flavours as it slips down the throat. I must order me some, soon. I’d written a little bit about it in this post back in 2017. Today, I came across this picture of lardo di Arnad being stored in a chestnut-wood box. It’s a thing of deep & wondrous beauty…
It’s simply made, from pork belly fat (read that again, PORK. BELLY. FAT) cured in rock-salt, rosemary, coriander seeds and black pepper for a period of around 6 months. Then served, equally simply as paper-thin slices on unsalted rye bread. An Italian man called Bonin, from the Aosta Valley slaughters just 3 pigs a year to make only around 30kg of this delight, which apparently has a delicate aroma of tannins from the wood. The boxes he hand makes during the long, cold, snowy, winter months, in his agriturismo, high up close to the Alps.
I wouldn’t mind this in my larder. If I had a larder. More on larders here.
That’s it for today, folks, just a quick teaser on the tongue.