I had asked for advice on smoking wild hog a few weeks back but forgot to post about the cooking session, so here it is. My friend shot an 80lb. wild hog (probably about 6 months old or so) on a farm in Arkansas back in January. He gave me a rear leg and a side of ribs with a skirt of belly meat to cook on the smoker. Since I'd never cooked wild hog before, I also did a brisket for good measure just in case I screwed it up.
First, I trimmed the leg. There was some pretty thick fat and a lot of tough silver skin membrane, so I cut all of that off, leaving some fat to help baste during the cook. Then I brined the leg for about 24 hours in a light solution of water, kosher salt, and just a little bit of brown sugar. After it brined, I applied a slather of yellow mustard mixed with Tecate beer and sprinkled on top of it the Baron's BBQ Spice rub recipe (paprika, celery seed, dried mustard, thyme, marjoram, salt, pepper, etc.) from Paul Kirk's Championship BBQ book. I probably put a little too much on because it got cakey, but it sure tasted good.
I didn't really do much to prep the side of ribs. There wasn't much fat to trim off, though I removed the silver skin behind the ribs and applied the same slather and rub.
I smoked the hog parts with pecan for about five hours and then foiled and transferred them to the oven at 225*F to finish cooking.
Unfortunately, I only got two pictures of the leg (below) before slicing it. Amid the chaos of attending our many guests and attempting to get three very large hunks of meat properly rested, sliced, and served, I didn't have much time for photography, so I'll do my best to describe them.
The pictures really don't do it justice. The internal temp at the thickest part was 208*F when I removed it from the oven. The leg meat was leaner and a little sweeter than domestic store-bought pork. It wrapped the bone in several layers of folds that retained their own structure nicely. here was a certain flavor that said you were "eating something from the earth," as it was put by our friend's Brazilian mother (who was wearing huge, gold-rimmed 1970s sunglasses indoors, at night, and a super fancy hair-do). Basically, it was incredibly tender and juicy, blossoming in the mouth with an intense sweet-earthy-smokey flavor. The leg meat was rich enough that the whole thing, which probably weighed roughly five pounds with the bone, was enough to feed our party of seven adults.
The ribs were not much to look at. A photo of the meat side would have shown a somewhat amorphous, flat brown-black mass. On the underside, the ribs themselves were incredibly narrow and close together, and roughly seven inches long each. What miniscule amount of meat was on them, however, was incredibly tender, stringy, and flavorful. Not at all like spare or baby back ribs from a domestic animal. The ribs were a real delicacy of thin, intense flavor to pick on with the teeth.
The real bonus with the side of ribs was the skirt of belly meat that hung off of them. My God! A thin flap of equally delicate and intense flavor, sweet and earthy but compact, like the ribs. It reminded me of museau du boef, the shaved meat from the nose of a cow that I had one time in France.
The brisket also turned out marvelously. It smoked for over four hours the night before in a mix of oak, hickory, and apple wood, before getting foiled and placed in the oven at 225*F until about 6:30 the following evening (a total cook time of 20.5 hours), when the thickest part of the flat reached an internal temp of 200*F. This was by far the most evenly cooked brisket that I've done. Even the tip of the flat was tender and juicy, and not on the dry side as it tends to be. This time I trimmed it far more aggressively than I normally do before cooking, and am glad I did. I left very little fat on the top and trimmed out all of the fat and connective tissue that joins the point to the flat. In the past I left that space largely intact because I didn't want to pull the two pieces apart very far, and it led to enormous amounts of fat in the slices from that section. This time it resulted in leaner, more tender, and more edible slices. I think the meat cooked better (more evenly) because of the missing fat in the middle. The takeaway for me on this one is that it's the marbled fat inside the meat the makes it tender, not the surface fat. I will be trimming my briskets aggressively going forward.
Oh, the brisket was phenomenal and the guests went nuts over it. A nice deep smoke ring all around.
First, I trimmed the leg. There was some pretty thick fat and a lot of tough silver skin membrane, so I cut all of that off, leaving some fat to help baste during the cook. Then I brined the leg for about 24 hours in a light solution of water, kosher salt, and just a little bit of brown sugar. After it brined, I applied a slather of yellow mustard mixed with Tecate beer and sprinkled on top of it the Baron's BBQ Spice rub recipe (paprika, celery seed, dried mustard, thyme, marjoram, salt, pepper, etc.) from Paul Kirk's Championship BBQ book. I probably put a little too much on because it got cakey, but it sure tasted good.
I didn't really do much to prep the side of ribs. There wasn't much fat to trim off, though I removed the silver skin behind the ribs and applied the same slather and rub.
I smoked the hog parts with pecan for about five hours and then foiled and transferred them to the oven at 225*F to finish cooking.
Unfortunately, I only got two pictures of the leg (below) before slicing it. Amid the chaos of attending our many guests and attempting to get three very large hunks of meat properly rested, sliced, and served, I didn't have much time for photography, so I'll do my best to describe them.
The pictures really don't do it justice. The internal temp at the thickest part was 208*F when I removed it from the oven. The leg meat was leaner and a little sweeter than domestic store-bought pork. It wrapped the bone in several layers of folds that retained their own structure nicely. here was a certain flavor that said you were "eating something from the earth," as it was put by our friend's Brazilian mother (who was wearing huge, gold-rimmed 1970s sunglasses indoors, at night, and a super fancy hair-do). Basically, it was incredibly tender and juicy, blossoming in the mouth with an intense sweet-earthy-smokey flavor. The leg meat was rich enough that the whole thing, which probably weighed roughly five pounds with the bone, was enough to feed our party of seven adults.
The ribs were not much to look at. A photo of the meat side would have shown a somewhat amorphous, flat brown-black mass. On the underside, the ribs themselves were incredibly narrow and close together, and roughly seven inches long each. What miniscule amount of meat was on them, however, was incredibly tender, stringy, and flavorful. Not at all like spare or baby back ribs from a domestic animal. The ribs were a real delicacy of thin, intense flavor to pick on with the teeth.
The real bonus with the side of ribs was the skirt of belly meat that hung off of them. My God! A thin flap of equally delicate and intense flavor, sweet and earthy but compact, like the ribs. It reminded me of museau du boef, the shaved meat from the nose of a cow that I had one time in France.
The brisket also turned out marvelously. It smoked for over four hours the night before in a mix of oak, hickory, and apple wood, before getting foiled and placed in the oven at 225*F until about 6:30 the following evening (a total cook time of 20.5 hours), when the thickest part of the flat reached an internal temp of 200*F. This was by far the most evenly cooked brisket that I've done. Even the tip of the flat was tender and juicy, and not on the dry side as it tends to be. This time I trimmed it far more aggressively than I normally do before cooking, and am glad I did. I left very little fat on the top and trimmed out all of the fat and connective tissue that joins the point to the flat. In the past I left that space largely intact because I didn't want to pull the two pieces apart very far, and it led to enormous amounts of fat in the slices from that section. This time it resulted in leaner, more tender, and more edible slices. I think the meat cooked better (more evenly) because of the missing fat in the middle. The takeaway for me on this one is that it's the marbled fat inside the meat the makes it tender, not the surface fat. I will be trimming my briskets aggressively going forward.
Oh, the brisket was phenomenal and the guests went nuts over it. A nice deep smoke ring all around.
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