Friday, July 1, 2011

I don't want the butt.

Went on a mission to find a pork shoulder picnic today.  This is not a bunch of pork on a checkered blanket.  It's a cut of pig.  Not to be confused with the pork shoulder butt.


My local butcher was a little disappointed he couldn't help, but suggested the only place I might find it (on the Westside) was in Inglewood.

I had to work my way through broken Spanish at the butcher counter and finally got passed to the head butcher man.  He knew exactly what I wanted and said, "That's a lot of meat.  You sure you know what you're talking about."

"Yes, sir."

I explained we were going to smoke it "southern style" and needed to have part of the leg still attached.  He paused a moment, smiled and said, "Sounds amazing."

"Well it is, actually.  My mom will be in town this weekend and we're doin' it right."

I can't say that I've ever met a mean butcher, but this guy was extra special nice to me.  He went in the back and cut exactly what I was looking for.

I think he was mostly impressed that I knew my meat.

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