
Chef Thomas
A Proper Ploughman's Board
A board of good cheddar, thick ham, proper pickle, hard-boiled eggs, and crusty bread. Not cooking so much as assembling with conviction, and one of the finest lunches the English kitchen has ever produced.
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Pork rind, rendered slow in its own fat and blasted in a hot oven until it puffs and shatters, salted generously and piled into a bowl. Purpose-built to make you want a pint.
The smell comes first. That deep, porky warmth filling the kitchen, fat rendering slowly in a low oven, the rind beginning to tighten and crisp. It smells like a pub on a Saturday afternoon, like someone's grandfather's kitchen, like the best possible reason to open a cold beer.
Pork scratchings aren't a recipe, really. They're an act of patience. You take a piece of skin that most people throw away, you dry it, salt it, cook it slowly until the fat surrenders, then hit it with fierce heat until it puffs and blisters into something extraordinary. The whole thing costs next to nothing. The butcher will practically give you the rind. What you're paying in is time and attention.
I first had proper ones, not the packet sort, in a pub somewhere in the Black Country, handed across the bar in a paper bag, still warm, shatteringly crisp, so salty they made the ale taste sweeter. I wrote it down in the notebook that evening: rind, salt, patience, pint. It still holds up as a complete set of instructions.
These are a Saturday afternoon project. Put them in the oven low while you do something else, turn the heat up when you're ready, and by the time people arrive there's a bowl of something on the table that nobody can leave alone. We're only making a snack. But what a snack.
Quantity
500g
skin on, with a thin layer of fat still attached
Quantity
generous amount
Quantity
for finishing
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| pork rindskin on, with a thin layer of fat still attached | 500g |
| fine sea salt | generous amount |
| flaky sea salt | for finishing |
| smoked paprika (optional) | 1 teaspoon |
| malt vinegar (optional) | for serving |
Ask your butcher for a good piece of pork rind with a few millimetres of fat left on. They'll have it. They're usually glad someone wants it. At home, scrape the underside with a sharp knife to remove any excess meat but leave that thin fat layer intact. It's the fat that renders down and does the frying for you. Score the skin side into strips, roughly a finger's width. Don't be too neat about it.
Rub the rind all over with fine sea salt, working it into the score lines. Set the pieces on a wire rack over a tray and leave them uncovered in the fridge overnight, or for at least four hours. The salt draws moisture out of the skin and the cold air of the fridge does the rest. When you come back to them, the surface should feel dry and papery to the touch. This is what you want.
Set the oven to 130C/110C fan. Lay the strips skin side up on a wire rack in a roasting tin. They need air circulating underneath. Put them in the low oven for an hour. Nothing dramatic will happen at first. The fat will start to render out slowly, dripping into the tin below, and the skin will begin to dry and tighten. The kitchen will start smelling of Sunday roast, that warm, porky sweetness that makes you want to open a bottle of something.
After an hour at the low temperature, turn the oven up to 220C/200C fan. Now watch them. This is where it happens. The strips will start to blister and puff, curling and bubbling as the last of the moisture escapes and the skin inflates. It takes fifteen to twenty minutes, but trust your eyes more than the clock. You want them golden, blistered all over, and rigid. If some puff before others, pull those out and let the rest catch up. They won't all behave the same way. That's fine.
The moment they come out of the oven, while they're still hot and a bit oily, scatter them with flaky sea salt. Be generous. Pork scratchings need salt the way a pint needs a glass. If you fancy it, a dusting of smoked paprika is good here, not traditional, but good. Let them cool on the rack. They'll crisp up further as they come to room temperature. When you snap one, it should shatter. If it bends, it needed longer in the oven. Pile them into a bowl and put them where people can reach.
1 serving (about 50g)
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