Do you recognize this guy? We first introduced him to you via the pastured pork party. That’s Thierry Rautureau, owner and executive chef at Rover’s, James Beard-award winner and radio personality, better known as The Chef in the Hat. (He really does wear the hat everywhere.) Thierry’s one of our favorite chefs. Favorite personalities, actually. He is opinionated and outspoken, kind and full of brio.
Recently, we sat down with Thierry to talk about pork.
“Growing up, it was the meat we ate the most,” he said, already gesticulating. “Growing up on the farm, it was just part of life, the killing of the pig, once or twice a year.” (Chef Rautureau grew up in the Muscadet region of France.)
“The butcher came to the farm. He had a long gun, and he put it right between the eyes of the pig.”
We’ll spare you the descriptions of the hanging, the slitting, the gutting. But for Thierry, this was clearly no big deal. Simply part of life on the farm. Pragmatic. Real.
A few weeks ago, when we bought the pig head to make head cheese, we stopped at the farm stand in town. The older woman who runs the stand looked down at our milk crate and said, “Oh, you bought a pig’s head.” No horror or revulsion. Just interest. “When I was a kid, I remember that everyone did this. You simply used every part of the pig. No waste.”
That’s how Thierry talked about the butchering of the pig on his family farm. Why waste any meat? Or any edible part of the pig?
“My favorite meal came right after the butchering. Blood stew,” Thierry said, his eyes growing wide. His face softened as he visibly slipped back into his childhood to describe this to us. “My mother would sweat onions, throw in fresh thyme and bay leaves. She’d throw in the blood collected from the pig, the white part of bread, some garlic, parsley, and red wine vinegar. She’d cook it for hours, and it grew super gelatinous.”
I listened, with interest, trying to picture this. Trying to imagine a childhood in which a dish like this was not only mundane but favored.
Thierry clearly wished he was eating some in that moment. “Oh, it was so good.”
This culture has quite awhile to go before it relishes a good pork blood stew. Rover’s doesn’t sell that dish. But they do prepare a glazed Kurobuta pork belly with baby carrot, sunchoke purée and a poultry nage, on the menu degustation at night. There’s also an onion and artisanal bacon soup with oyster mushrooms and garlic croutons.
Now that sounds fantastic to us.
The kitchen at Rover’s also makes its own charcuterie. Thierry was kind enough to let us peer into the charcuterie box in the back, near the walk-in.
It was all we could do to not swipe that chorizo when Thierry had to take a phone call. Look at that garlic.
“I think it’s cool that pork is making a big comeback,” Thierry told us when we moved back onto the sunlit patio of Rover’s. “Ten years ago, I could have not have served pork belly here. And now?”
Well, we want some of the pork belly served at Sunday brunch — a braised pork belly with sauteed spinach and harissa aioli. Yeah.
And what, I asked Thierry, if you were making a cut of pork for yourself? What would you cook?
He leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head, and started imagining.
“I’d start with a good picnic shoulder. I’d butterfly it, and then I’d rub it with good tapenade and harissa. And I’d marinate it overnight. Olives all over the pig. And the next day, I’d pull it out of the refrigerator three to four hours before I’d start cooking. Finally, I’d start off at a high heat, 450° to 500° for 10 or 15 minutes, and then cook it at 250° until it’s crisp and tender. Cook it slow, slow, slow.”
Oh, oh, oh. Thierry. You’ve inspired us. We have to make this soon.
Come to Rover’s soon. You’re sure to be treated well, eat the meal of your life, and go home inspired.
Rover’s
2808 East Madison Street Seattle, Washington 98112
(206) 325-7442
http://www.rovers-seattle.com







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You’ve captured Thierry’s love for pork, perfectly. I can almost taste his words.