The Chow Down

When one owns pigs, the world looks like a buffet.

As agents of consumption, my pigs have proven to be second to none, and it has become one of the chief quests of my waking days to supply them with new sources of wholesome, and ideally free, feed. Emphasis on the free.

I wouldn't say I've been trying to cheap out on my little porcine charges, but with a little creativity and a little frugality, I've been able to give them more nosh than they know what to do with. The first buffet-bonanza was the pair of pear trees that have long been sitting in the corner of the farm yard, quietly dropping bushels of fruit year after year, largely unnoticed. I froze a freezer-chest worth of the fruit, and stored several wheelbarrow's worth more down in the cool of the old milking parlor, buried in straw and sawdust. Mid-winter, I'm counting on a few defrosted pears to enliven the pigs' meals and give them some much needed vitamins.

Pumpkins have also been a huge boon this fall. The pigs love to eviscerate a good pumpkin, diving into the orange guts head first (it's all the more twisted when you have to look the disemboweled jack-o-lanterns in the face as they are devoured, like a Halloween themed re-enactment of a scene from Hannibal). And, at a pumpkin a day, I've got enough set away in the barn for a few more weeks of nutritious hog food.

Acorns are another source of a free meal; in about an hour this afternoon, I raked up enough acorns to fill ten five gallon pails. The oak trees that loom over my mother's house leave the ground littered with the nuts, and a bit more work later this week should see another truck full of acorns stored away for colder weather. Besides being a favorite of the pigs, the acorns should give the pork great flavor: world famous Serrano hams come from pigs fattened on acorns in the oak groves of Spain.

All this is just the tip of the foraging iceberg. A good friend (shout out to Carrie Flickinger!!) visited with a trunk load of day old bread from her award winning Clear Flour Bakery in Boston, and the pigs go wild for whole wheat loaves. With luck, I can strike up a more regular deal with the local Bantam Bread Company for a steady supply. I've already made arrangements with some other local businesses for scraps and throw-aways: pizza crusts from Giovanni's Restaurant, vegetables from Sunny Ridge Supermarket, and gone-by fruit from March Farms Orchards. All this free food is available with just a smiling request and a little bit of leg work. In almost three weeks, I've used only about half a bag of official pig feed, and the pigs are happy, healthy, and growing in leaps and bounds.

Finding creative ways to feed them is more than just a money saving venture, however. I hope, by relying on local businesses, to be making connections in my area, creating a sense, however slight, of community. In the spring, I'll repay buckets of cast off produce with farm fresh eggs, as a way of showing my appreciation and building area ties.

I also get an oddly profound sense of accomplishment from using the pigs as perfect little organic recyclers. Food destined to go into the garbage or decay in the field sustains the pigs, and like some alchemy, they transform unwanted scraps into delicious pork. It's a system beautiful in its simplicity, and satisfying in its implications. Pumpkins, apples, acorns, pears, bread, corn...the world, as I said, is a veritable buffet.