BACK IN THOSE DAYS

”In Colonial times, hogs were slaughtered in December. During slavery in order to maximize profits, slave owners commonly fed their slaves in the cheapest manner possible. At hog butchering time, the preferred cuts of meat were reserved for the master's use with the remains, such as fatback, snouts, ears, neck bones, feet, and intestines given to the slaves for their consumption.” (Information taken from the Internet)

My mother was a good southern style cook. I ate many meals cooked by her, and enjoyed most of them. Once in awhile she would reach too deep into her recipes, and would cook something that both my psyche and appetite would reject.

My step dad was fond of chitlins, and ever so often he would get a hankering for some of them. He usually would go to the store and buy some, bring them in and say; cook up a batch of these. I could always tell when chitlins were cooking for all the windows were open and a fan was blowing. They smelled like an old out house gone bad.

If you have kids or in-laws that still live at your home, and you want to get rid of them, just start cooking chitlins once or twice a week and they will leave. Twice a week is enough for the smell doesn't dissipate very fast and they won't be able to handle it.

”Let us consider what chitlins are - they are hog intestines or guts. Some people turn up their noses at the mention of chitlins. However, the volume sold for New Year's dinners, with Christmas and Thanksgiving not far behind, attests to chitlins popularity in the United States. Chitterlings is the more formal name, but most people call them chitlins. They are usually part of a larger meal that includes collard greens, fried chicken, and other traditional Southern foods. Chitlins are not for the faint of palate or smell, which is why traditionally they were cooked outdoors at backyard hog killings in winter. They are a food that you either love or hate.” (From the Internet)

My mother wouldn't eat chitlins, but would cook them for my step dad who would devour them like they were good. My brother would always stay with friends until the feasting was over and then come home. I will forego listing some of the other delicacies she cooked that I didn't eat simply because they were too revolting.

I enjoyed hog killing time, it was a time when the family all got together, and worked from early in the morning, until seven or eight in the evening. Then came the eating, since there was no time to stop and eat during the day, so we over ate and rolled all night because of it. The next day was busy also. The meat had to be trimmed, and put down in salt. The Lard had to be rendered out, and the sausage must be ground, seasoned and put in sock like bags.

While I miss "hog days" it’s a whole lot easier just to go to the store, buy your bacon, and just think of “back in those days”