During the holidays we put aside a day for the Salami. The day that starts at the crack of dawn, the freezing winter chill ideal for making the cured meat, and drove to the local butchers to pick up our order of pork legs. I listen to my husband ramble on about his memories as a child, how he would go to the farm with this parents and they would select the pig and the farmer would kill it instantly. Nothing was wasted. His mother would drain the blood, keeping it for a delicacy and the ears apparently were a special treat as well. He remembers those days well, it was a day on the calender he looked forward to, and even got a day off school for....now that's what I call an education!
We take our pork legs and drive to friends home...or shall I say garage. He is really set up, but not in a bells and whistles kind of way...just a practical way. The mincer is a sight to behold....I wonder how old it must be, and someone has done a fine job bolting to to a small table on casters and rigging up a motor on it.
The morning is spent, as I like to put in "in production"...we all have a job, and it takes a team to make Salami. We butcher, trim and cut the meat. We mince it up, and mix in the essential amount of salt, flavourings like homemade capsicum sauce, pepper, chilli and paprika. We mix with our hands, mine start to go numb due to the meat still being so chilled. The skins are soaking in luke warm water with lemon and red wine and then we start to fill them, tying them off tight. Before I know it, the whole process is over. They are hung and a small fire in a wheelbarrow will help them dry out.
We reward ourselves and our rumbling tummies by cooking up some salami that was made a few weeks prior over the fire....a glass of home made vino and all before 12 noon! This the the life!