Labor Day weekend I was hanging out with my sister and brother-in-law at the lake and they excitedly told me they’d ordered an entire pig from a local butcher. Maybe it was the fact that I’d had far more Jameson that I should have by 3 p.m. on a Saturday or that I was in the middle of reading the galley of a friend’s book about butchery, but I immediately said “I’ll take all the parts you don’t want!”
I’d forgotten about said parts until my sister and her husband came by on Friday and told me that they had a freezer full of swine innards with my name on them.
After the jump, an inventory of my pig parts.
