#batsua

Last night I listened to Mario Brunello play the violin with the lights dimmed in the showroom of a nearby winery.  And then I ate pig feet. 

It wasn't quite a head to tail venture, but close -- from the fanfare appertivo of proscuitto crudo, bold reds and refined sounds to the skin and gelatinous meat of the hooves.

After the concert, I ordered Batsuà (the pig feet dish) in a small, side-street restaurant in Alba, La Libera.  My decision was a combination of impulse and insistence from the staff.  Our wait staff jumped from 2 to 6 as word spread that I'd never eaten Batsua.  Apparently that's a horrifying statement for a student of gastronomy in Piedmont to make.  Albeit a fading, it's a traditional dish of the region, originally introduced at a time when no parts of the pig were spared.  I did my part to uphold the tradition, sparing no parts and deeply appreciating the gastronomic creativity involved in transforming animal feet into an irresistable delicacy.

The recipe goes something like this, though I recommend finding a snow covered Piedmont restaurant in February and simplying placing an order:

cleanse and shave the pig feet

boil in water and vinegar for hours until the skin and fatty meat separate from the bones

take the meat and skin and mix together in a separate bowl to form a pig feet dough, of sorts

in small cookie shaped clumps, roll the mixture in flour, then egg with a pinch of salt and breadcrumbs

fry

eat with caramelized onions and some of the broth jelly