Pork Hairy Bikers' Best of British

We believe that Britain has the best food in the world!

Our glorious country boasts some fantastic ingredients...

Start eating it, will you!

'..it's home to some amazing producers...'

-My goodness gracious, that is epic.

-Isn't it?

..and innovative chefs.

But our islands also have a fascinating food history...

The fish and chip shops of South Wales are running out of chips.

BOTH: Yes!

And in this series, we're uncovering revealing stories

of our rich culinary past.

Now there is food history on a plate.

..as well as meeting our nation's food heroes

who are keeping this heritage alive!

Let's have them enjoying themselves, it's a short life.

Let's make it a happy one like they always have had.

And of course we'll be cooking up a load of dishes

that reveal our foody evolution.

Spring, summer, autumn or winter, it's brilliant.

BOTH: Quite simply, the Best of British.

The British pig.

Dude, it's marvellous, man. Pork pies.

-Sausages.

-Ham hock.

-Slow roast pork shoulder.

-Bacon, dude.

-Ooh! Pork scratchings.

Us Brits really know

how to get the best out of the humble pig.

Thankfully for our ancestral tummies,

pigs were our first animals we domesticated for meat.

They have been part of the centre of our diet ever since.

We love pigs so much that we've dedicated a whole programme

to their place in our culinary heritage, and the wonderful bits

of tasty, flavoursome loveliness you get off them.

There's snout not to like!

We British can boast some of the tastiest native breeds in the world.

Loveable creatures with a fascinating but formidable past.

That have kept us going through some tough times.

And provided us with one of the most versatile meats on the planet.

From honest and humble...

To comforting classics...

..and impressive showstoppers.

There's no end to what you can do with a pig.

And we're going to demonstrate just why you should never take

this little beastie for granted.

They were first domesticated some 10,000 years ago.

And quickly became the staple source of protein for the British people

providing generation after generation with a cheap

and economical source of food.

ARCHIVE: 'In the past,

'almost every cottage kept a hardy outdoor pig or two.

'So much home produce meant a simple diet, which nevertheless emphasised

'the strong flavour of food.'

In the old days, everybody used to kill a pig

and hang it up

and we used to cut a slice of that and put in a pot for the meat.

Not only did they taste really, really good,

but they were essential to the way of life for rural families.

They grew fast, ate anything

and famously you could eat every part except the oink.

Everyone killed a pig in February, or two pigs in February.

And then obviously we've got the pig back with everything belonging to it.

People used to swap round and make each other's.

You used to finish up with a pantry full of pork pies.

It's the best pie in the world without a doubt.

A pig not only provided you with enough food to last a year,

but they more or less paid for themselves.

In fact, back in 1860, writer and vet William Youatt

declared that, "There is no savings bank for a labourer like a pig."

They were cheap to buy, could be fed on household waste

and provide a family with more meat than they needed.

Any surplus excess was sold and the money used to buy the next one.

Perfect.

Back in 1937, there were estimated

to be over four million pigs in Britain, many home reared.

But during the Second World War, food became so scarce

that even keeping a pig became a luxury.

Instead, people joined together to form pig clubs

and reared food for the war effort.

And by 1943, there were around 4,000 clubs with over 100,000 members.

ARCHIVE: 'Every day in big cities, thousands of tons of good food

'is, no, not thrown away, but saved, in special bins like this

'to make food for pigs. Potato peelings, cabbage stalks,

'stale bread and plate scrapings are all put by conscientious housewives

'into the food bin.'

But, alas this patriotic pig for victory didn't last.

After the war, ownership took a nose dive.

The home-reared pig became a thing of the past as the advent

of intensive farming and supermarkets

offered people a convenient alternative.

As the years went on, our porky pals became less and less

part of the family and more a shrink-wrapped product.

Over 30 years on,

and with the advent of the slow food movement, thankfully more and more

of us are recognising the value of quality over quantity.

And with that, the pig sty is back in style,

as people are increasingly choosing to raise their own pigs once again.

If you know what the pig's eaten and how it's been kept,

then it's much easier to eat that pig.

Except these days it's not enough just to feed them,

some people want to talk to them as well.

How do you say hello? Do the hello one again.

SHE GRUNTS

PIGS GRUNT

That's it. That's what you want.

We want to have our pig and eat it too!

You've seen it on legs, now you're seeing it on a plate.

And now in honour of our ancestors, we are going to do

what generation after generation have done.

Make a pork pie.

But not any pork pie, we're going to make our own special version

of that classic, the gala pie.

Deliciously peppery pork with a rich seam of quail egg in its core

and all wrapped up in a hearty crust.

My first memory of gala pie, being a child that had a vivid imagination,

I was quite perplexed. I'd look at these slices of pink luminous pie

with the egg in the middle, and I worried all the time that one day

I'd get a slice of pie with the end of an egg, and I never did.

How come the endless egg? So apart from doing the gala pie, we're going

to explain the mystery of the endless egg.

You see? You see, you don't get just memories

but you get practical applications too with us two, you know.

Science!

Ours isn't an ordinary gala pie.

We're using only the finest ingredients starting with the eggs.

Quail's eggs. We want a little bit more delicate gala pie, you know.

I'm going to start with the filling first.

I am going to poach 12 quails eggs in their shells

for precisely two-and-a-half minutes.

That is my total task at this moment. Thank you.

My total task is to put 200g of pork mince,

the interior of four pork sausages, into a bowl, like that.

The eggs are immersed gently in water which is just off the boil,

and two-and-a-half minutes, and counting.

But you're the endless egg? Do you know what they do?

This is genius. The butchers in the old days,

they would separate the egg whites and the egg yolks.

They would take a chipolata skin and they would fill that

with the egg yolk and poach it. When they've got this stick of egg yolk

they would put that in the middle of a big sausage skin,

flood the outside with egg white

and then poach that, so you end up with this endless boiled egg.

We're just going to do a chain of quails eggs,

so that every slice will get an egg.

To the sausage meat, I'm adding two rashers

of chopped, rindless, streaky bacon.

And to achieve the lovely traditional flavour,

mix in half a teaspoon of mace, half a teaspoon of ground ginger,

a pinch of salt and plenty of black pepper.

Then get your hands in and squidge it all together.

After two-and-a-half minutes, it's time to drain the eggs.

Rinse them under cold water until they're completely cool.

Did you know, in Britain, we eat 150 million quid's worth

-of pork pies every year.

-Do we?

Right, that's me done, I'm now going to wash me hands

-and then you can get on with your pastry.

-I can.

It's a traditional hot water crust, and it's lovely.

It's fatty, it's unhealthy, but with a pork pie...!

There's nowt better, is there?

I start off with the food processor.

You know what, Dave, it's funny how you associate stuff, isn't it?

I always associate gala pie with brass bands.

Colliery bands.

THEY MIMIC BRASS BAND PLAYING

Start the pastry by putting 225g of plain flour into the food processor.

Mate, I'm just going to get on and peel these eggs.

All right, mate, thank you. I'm going to put half a teaspoon

of cracked black pepper in the pastry as well.

Even put quite a healthy half teaspoon.

I just like peppery pies. Into that, a small block of lard.

Lard creates flaky pastry.

Then add 25g of cold butter.

Stick the lid on and pulse it until it looks like breadcrumbs.

Now comes the hot water part, take a small pan

and add four tablespoons of water and begin heating.

Add a teaspoon of sea salt and a 50g block of lard

and stir it until it melts.

It's like a pound of pork sausages trying to do macrame,

watching you peel those eggs.

It's not easy! I've got pit man's hands, these!

-Pippin's hands!

-They're not pianists, these!

Not pianist's hands. These are big shovels, these.

-"I've got pippin's hands?"

-Pit man's! Gala pie, all that.

Oh, aye. It's where me family comes from,

a dark hole in the middle of Northumberland.

-Egg number three.

-Shut up.

-I better let this lard melt slowly, eh?

-Do you mind!

-When you're on to number ten, give us a shout.

-I might be some time.

Once the lard has melted, add the liquid to the pastry mix,

but take care, its very hot.

And then pulse it until you end up with a nice doughy mixture.

This is always the fun part with hot water pastry.

I like this particularly.

-You do when I have to do it.

-Yes, I do.

It's hot, isn't it? Because there's boiling fat,

but really, you need to get your hands in it

and form a...

-SCREAMS:

-Form a block of pastry!

Obviously, make sure it's not so hot you really burn your fingers.

The thing is, once it's gone cold,

it's like trying to craft leather...

-YELLS:

-Help me!

So, just be bold, go for it and form it in a rough block shape.

Then place it on one piece of silicon baking parchment

or grease proof paper.

Use flour so it doesn't stick and roll it out nice and thin.

Also sprinkle a bit of flour on to the eggs. We don't want them

to sink into the pork mix when we put the pie together.

We want them to sit nicely in the middle.

Now comes the artistic bit.

Spread half the meat down the centre of the rolled-out pastry

and pop the eggs neatly on top in a nice straight line.

And cover them with the rest of the sausage mix.

It's just like wrapping them up in a snug pork duvet.

Then liberally apply a whisked egg to the edges of the pastry.

And roll it up like a big sausage roll.

If you've got a crack, don't worry, because what we do is

there's a two cooking stage on this.

You put it in for 20 minutes, then after that take it out.

Look for cracks, seal it with egg

and then put it back in for another 20.

A tidy pie is a happy gala pie.

We take some scissors and trim the top off.

Now crimp the top edge,

rather like that other working class delicacy, the Cornish pasty.

And then brush it all over with egg

which will give it a nice shiny tan when it's cooked.

What do you think, Mr King?

I think that's epic, dude. I really do.

That is tidy crafted hot water crust.

Gala pie!

Place it into a pre-heated oven at 180 degrees Celsius for 20 minutes.

Then get it out and give it another coat of egg wash.

This will not only help achieve a lovely crust,

it will also seal any cracks that may have appeared.

Then pop it back in the oven for another 15 minutes

or until it's a gorgeous golden brown.

When it's ready you'll have to summon all your willpower

to allow it to cool down.

That's what you call a ploughman's lunch.

-Shall we go in the middle?

-Go in the middle, aye.

One nice slice.

Look at that. The egg, just in the middle.

That is brilliant, but look at that. It's not luminous pink,

because it's real meat, but that's a perfect picnic pie.

-What's not to love?

-You say that every time now.

I know, but it's true.

-It's lovely.

-If you like pork pies, you'll like this.

If you like egg and bacon, you'll like this.

If you like a sausage roll, you'll like this.

The Hairy Bikers' posh gala pie. Brilliant.

-What a clever pig.

-Oh, aye.

This little piggy can certainly come to market and not stay home.

So that's our homage to the glorious gala pie,

a pie that in its own way helped fuel the coal fields

of Britain by filling the bellies of generations of mining folk.

We tend to take our pork for granted,

but the truth is we import a huge amount of it. If we don't

start to do more to protect our piggy heritage,

we're in danger of losing it.

There were once around 20 breeds of British pig reared in different

regions of the country, each with its own unique characteristics.

Many of these old breeds disappeared as farming became industrialised

around the Second World War, to cater for food shortages.

Fast growing porkers were needed to make production as quick

as possible, and some of the old breeds were considered too slow.

And all the others went into decline.

Now only half of the old types survive.

But it's not all bad news as there are people out there

working to put them back in the culinary spotlight.

At Butts Farm in Gloucestershire, Judy Hancox and Gary Wallace

are on a mission to preserve some of our traditional breeds of pig.

Here, piggy-wig!

Judy rears 20 different types of rare livestock,

like these Oxford Sandy And Black pigs,

resulting in some of the best-tasting pork around.

-This is Cynthia.

-Hello, Cynth.

-And these are Cynthia's babies.

-Oh, Cynthia!

You've produced beautiful babies, Cynthia. And what a beautiful sow.

These pigs were bred for food, and being British,

we bred pigs that produced good pork.

And that's what we're in danger of throwing away.

It is our living heritage, that's so right.

And we so nearly lost our heritage after the war when,

let's face it, we don't realise how close we came to starving.

It had to happen. We had to live. But now we're fine.

We've got plenty of food, so let's go back to quality.

What breeds have we lost that are never going to come back again?

Well, there's a breed of pig called Lincolnshire Curly Coat that's gone.

There is the Dorset Gold Tip -

I've never even seen a picture of it. It's gone.

-And that's our heritage.

-That is our heritage.

What are the benefits and advantages of this

type of pig as opposed to the more commercially produced type of pig?

Well, from my perspective as a farmer, they are easy to keep,

but, of course, the most important thing is

they are also delicious to eat.

The good thing about it is that they are rare breeds,

but they are no longer rare, are they?

They are native to this country,

and that is what we are trying to promote.

And the best thing in the world is if they start by being rare breeds,

but then don't become rare breeds any more, because everybody loves

to eat them so much and loves to keep them so much

that they are popular again.

It's an idyll, it's a rural idyll, but it's also really good food.

-Yeah, it is. Yeah, it is.

-I'm sorry, but you are.

-And there's a lot of bacon sandwiches on our Cynthia.

-Shhh!

It's all right, she's very deaf.

Oh, is she? That's all right.

These pigs are in good hands,

but what is it about traditional breeds that makes good eating?

The man who knows all about it is Judy's husband, Gary Wallace,

the farm's butcher.

I think it's fair to say that we love good pork.

-Do you?

-Yeah.

-There is pleasure in a pig.

I'm looking forward to this, I think it's fair to say that

with beef and lamb, I understand which cheaper cuts to use, but with

pork, I'm still kind of dependent on the shoulder, leg and loin.

-You're in for a treat.

-Good man.

Right, here we are then, guys.

That is a side of Oxford Sandy And Black.

It's quite a small pig.

The reason for that is, it is a traditional pork pig.

We find that this is the ideal pork weight. 48 to 55 kilos.

-You can see the fat-to-meat ratio is just perfect.

-Exactly.

Do you know what I'm noticing, Gary?

A lot of supermarket pork you get, it's wet.

This isn't. It's slightly waxy.

Yeah. A lot of these commercial pigs are finished in about 16, 18 weeks.

These guys take five to six months.

Minimum five months, maximum six months.

Proper butchery is a fine art.

-You've done this before, haven't you?

-A couple of times.

There's an old mate of mine

who is a butcher who is about 75, and he goes,

"As soon as you hear the saw, stop cutting through bone, stop."

Exactly. You are creating heat by using that saw,

and that starts the process of drying the meat out, discolouration.

We're after a cut of meat called the hand, which is the part

below the shoulder and on the bone.

It's tender and tasty, but also economical for cooks.

Sunday roast, it's a belter.

Yeah. Slow roasted, whack it in the oven at breakfast time,

eat it at lunchtime, it is... Oh. As you are going to taste later.

-Oh, man!

-It's something very special.

-Haway, crack on!

-It is the best of British.

-It is.

It's funny though, we are known as a nation of beef eaters,

but actually we should be pork eaters.

Since time began, everybody has kept a pig.

We kept a pig, we lived on it, it was our staple foodstuff.

But our pork products as well, be it the Sunday roast,

sausages and bacon, it's the best in the world.

We are just the best at it.

It's so sad. You have to realise that 80% of the pork

that is eaten in this country isn't British.

-80%?

-80%. Even down to, you see "British bacon,"

it's pork... pigs, that's been imported from abroad

and cured in this country.

So, then we just cut through to remove the pork.

-Look at that!

-The important thing is getting a good quantity of meat...

To fat ratio.

And actually, the fat itself, it's white, it's like ivory. It milky.

As you say, best of British. So that really is the hand and spring.

It's a big lump of meat, but still very economical.

Really, all that's left to do now is to cook it.

-Good lad.

-Yeah?

-Great crackling.

-Oh, hey!

THEY CHUCKLE

'Ahh, those are words to warm the heart, Gary!'

'We love eating this meat, and Judy is cooking up a storm

'with a hand of pork taken from an Oxford Sandy And Black.'

-Oh, yes!

-Look at that. Wow!

'Judy's slow cooked it - the only way to do meat like this justice.'

-It's audible pork, isn't it?

-It's very audible pork, isn't it?

That is superb meat, absolutely superb.

You can't stop yourself, can you?

THEY LAUGH

Come on, darling. Sit down, let's tuck in.

-Thank you.

-Thank you very much.

It's a pleasure to have you here, guys.

First thing is, it's tender. It's falling apart.

'That flavour and texture is simply sensational.'

-Look at that, off the bone. Perfect.

-Just falls off.

Nothing pretentious, just good, honest British food.

You know what's a real privilege is to eat a rare but native,

that's the important thing, it's not rare, it's just native.

It's a native breed of meat that we have in our country,

and that's fantastic. We're not eating an endangered species here,

we're simply eating great food. And great, great meat.

-This is just perfect.

-Thank you so much.

'It's sad to think that we've lost

'so much of our regional food heritage.'

'But thanks to people like Judy and Gary

'there's hope for the future.

'So, next time you're in your butchers

'ask them about rare breed pork and help stop

'traditional British breeds disappearing forever.'

But our porcine history is a very long one...

And dates back even further than the domestic pig.

For thousands of years a fearsome beast stalked these lands.

FEROCIOUS SQUEALING

A beast that terrorised the countryside...

And struck fear into the heart of travellers,

from the humblest of peasants to the bravest of knights.

-It was thought to have gone forever.

-But now it's BACK!

What? Is that it?

Wild boars are fearsome creatures, you know.

This one's a bit cute to be terrifying, though, dude.

Fair point. They may have been scary creatures for our ancestors,

but wild boars were also the original source of our pork,

and for centuries, Britons valued them for their tasty flavour.

Recently, boar meat has been making a comeback,

and for the last five years, farmer Simon Gaskell has been

braving these wild beasties at his farm in Wiltshire.

Along with wild boar ham, Simon's farm makes salami and chorizo.

Boars are certainly unusual stock,

but Simon believes the meat they produce is a winner.

Oh, flaming Nora! That one doesn't look so friendly.

I love wild boar. They are fascinating animals.

They are magical to work with, and very exciting.

And most importantly, they taste so good.

They take so long to grow, they are low in saturated fats,

they are low in cholesterol, they are high in protein.

Their meat is much more flavoursome, they are gamy, old-fashioned.

It's what our ancestors were brought up on.

As well as being tasty in the pot, they were celebrated

by our ancestors for their aggressive and fearsome nature.

Because of this, they were prized by hunters.

Unfortunately, by the 13th century they'd become extinct in the wild.

A few lingered on on the grand estates of the aristocracy,

but by the 18th century, boars had been wiped out.

Rearing them is not for the faint-hearted.

The clue is in the name, really - when we say wild boar, we mean wild!

Boars are covered by the Dangerous Wild Animals Act,

which means Simon's enclosures are high security.

It's like a miniature Jurassic Park!

Wild boar by their nature are pretty wild,

and to keep them in we have a six-foot fence,

and within that we have at 20,000 Joule electric current

running through two wires

to keep... where is he... that big guy over there in.

Meet Julian, the farm's stud boar and a 25-stone misanthrope.

He really is a bit of a brute.

He's got no manners, and his tusks are incredibly sharp.

He's created a bit of tapestry on my legs.

I have two or three scars from him,

and most recently a little love bite from yesterday.

Purely because he was just hungry and keen for his tucker, I'm sure.

With porkers like Julian around,

the setup is quite different to your average pig farm.

Looking after this lot is, to say the least, a bit of a challenge.

They're like piggy piranhas!

These are farmed wild boar, and you cannot...

It's very difficult to take the wild out of the farmed boar.

Boar farming isn't like pig farming. They really do do their own thing,

as you can see. They're not as personable or friendly.

It's a completely different animal to the pig of today.

You can see the difference.

A wild boar has a lot longer snout, prick ears, shorter body

and it's got a straight tail.

And the key thing, I found since starting,

is to have as friendly a stock as you can.

They are very difficult to do anything with.

First time I ever had them in this paddock, it took me nine days to get them out of here,

because you can't go behind them and go "shoo!"

So, by taking time and spending time with them,

and getting friendlier sows will help, I hope,

in breeding it into the young

so that they become friendlier and more pliable overtime.

It's going to be a very long process.

Wild boar was a favourite at medieval royal banquets.

It had a tough image and was usually only hunted by the nobility.

Henry VIII loved hunting them and was once saved from being

gored to death by a beautiful woman archer. He would, wouldn't he?

Over the last few years,

boar meat has become a favourite on posh tables once more.

Simon supplies his product to an array of top restaurants,

like Lucknam Park in Wiltshire

and it's a good place to see what the fuss is about.

Chef Hywel Jones is cooking wild boar loin

and butternut squash fritters with boar chorizo.

A lot of people might be unfamiliar with wild boar.

If you like pork, pretty good bet you're going to like wild boar.

It's like a very posh, upmarket pig.

It's a little bit more gamy, but it's just a first-rate product.

We've taken the loin, so you've got the best end and the loin together,

we're just left with this delicious deep pink-coloured meat.

Hywel starts off by preparing his fritters.

He purees butternut squash and mixes it into risotto rice.

Then adds a special ingredient - wild boar chorizo.

It certainly adds another dimension to the dish.

Depth of flavour, a little bit of spiciness,

and it goes really well with the butternut.

Ooh, hey, man - these are looking lovely, Dave.

And he's deep frying them, too - marvellous!

There's our beautiful wild boar loins. We're going to season them

with a little bit of rock salt, a little bit of milled white pepper.

It's quite a lean meat, there's not a lot of fat through it,

so to prevent it from overcooking on the hot side of the pan,

just some normal kitchen foil.

That tinfoil is acting as a barrier between the pan and the meat,

so you're going to get a nice even cooking.

You're not going to get one side of the meat cooked more than the other.

The loin goes in the oven for about seven minutes

and then it's nearly ready to eat.

A nice little garnish of our greens.

On go the risotto fritters.

That meat is exactly as I wanted it - just a little over medium.

Juicy and succulent.

And now, that's the dish finished.

I'm just going to add the sauce and it's good to go.

Hywel's dishes are upmarket stuff.

The boar provides an interesting alternative to pork cuts,

with bags of flavour to explore on the plate.

But Simon has plans to bring it to the masses as well.

At wild boar HQ, Simon's teamed up with charcuterie expert

Vincent Castellano, to make some bite-sized snacks for the pub.

They're hoping to turn their high end salami and chorizo

into a smaller and more inexpensive version

which they've called Boar Bites.

Must be named after Julian!

Vincent and I have been playing with the content,

mixing the herbs and spices a touch.

This is our third batch,

which will be even better than the last one.

We've tweaked the recipe,

and this time I reckon is going to be the best.

Charcuterie like chorizo and salami,

is a good way of using this expensive meat.

It not only means you need less of it in each product as you're

mixing with other flavours, but it lasts for ages, too.

It's really exciting getting to this stage having seen how long

it's taken for the boar to rear, all of the time it's taken

for the boar to hang, and then Vincent's careful time on making it.

To actually get it tasted really will be the proof of the pudding.

The boar bites take three weeks to dry out,

so Simon is off to the local Swan pub with an earlier batch,

to see what the customers think.

There's no better judge than the public!

-That's nice.

-Very similar to French saucisson.

That's moreish.

You'd go for another piece of that.

It's quite a nice salty snack to have a glass of wine,

a pre-dinner snack.

Mmm!

Looks like that's a thumbs up, then!

Wild boar. It's not something you come across every day,

but that's not a bad thing, really.

It's good to have something a bit different from the norm,

and when it tastes as great as this, what a discovery it is too!

British pork certainly doesn't have to be used in a traditional way.

It's incredibly versatile, and we're going to prove that by giving it

a continental spin for our next dish.

Polenta Pork, a delicious Eastern European winter warmer

and a family favourite in the Myers house.

-My wife is Romanian.

-She is.

Practically Romania's national dish is mamaliga, which is polenta.

You normally associate polenta with northern Italy,

but it spread north into Romania,

and in many places in Eastern Europe it is staple carbohydrate fare.

Some people cannot get their heads round the texture of it,

but the thing is, give it a go, cos it's great.

This recipe is adapted,

it's like a Romanian shepherds pie that we make at home,

but we've kind of adapted it with fine British pork products.

British sausages, British bacon, and honestly, it's brilliant.

British food is a constantly evolving thing of wonder,

and we benefit by being culinary magpies.

I mean, we flit hither and thither

taking the best things from various cuisines,

adapt them a little bit, make it our own, and it's brilliant.

Forget your shepherds pie this week, try this pork polenta. It's ace.

And polenta, you get it everywhere, now.

Start by frying 12 rashers of streaky bacon

until it's nice and crisp.

We're using dry cured unsmoked bacon,

but it's also great with smoked.

In another pan, fry three chopped onions.

Then add 600 grams of skinned chilli sausages

or you could use soft cooking chorizo.

As the onion and sausage start to cook through,

break up the meat so it crumbles.

One of the wonderful Romanian products that's yet to reach

our shores is smoked polenta.

It's wonderful. It's heavy and smoky.

Anything smoky with pork is great.

When your carbohydrate is smoked - yum yum!

It's a flavour carrier as well, that's the good thing about polenta.

You can push quite a lot of flavours through it.

I think polenta is more interesting than couscous.

I mean, after all, couscous is the only food that can be

so boring you have to say the name twice so you don't forget it.

"Cous-cous."

Heh heh!

Right, that's just about there, I think.

The polenta, the mamaliga, the cornmeal. Let's get cracking.

This is quick cook polenta, which is a bit like instant porridge oats.

It cooks in about one minute in the pan.

If you're using the regular, real polenta, you'll have to stand there

and stir it for about 20 minutes. Is that right?

20 minutes, half an hour. You can't leave it.

But it's probably the quick cook polenta that you're going to buy.

You just swirl in the pan and just pour it in.

'Add 250 grams to a pan of boiling water.'

This needs to cook for one minute,

and then we beat it for four minutes.

As you can see, it's still liquid.

It's not going to be like that for long.

To that we add a teaspoon of salt.

And let that rumble for a minute.

It's like my father-in-law, he likes his polenta so thick

you put the pan out, and even just put it on a board on the table,

and he cuts his polenta with a piece of string like that.

That's when he knows it's good.

Now take it off the heat

and just keep stirring it for about four minutes.

As you stir, it will thicken up into the wonderful cornmeal porridge

that is known as polenta or mamaliga.

'While Dave's stirring that,

'I'm going to add two tablespoons of sweet paprika...

'..and one tablespoon of hot paprika to the sausage and onions.'

'The smell of these flavours coming together is incredible.

'After four minutes of stirring the polenta, add 50g of butter...

'..and 100g of mature cheddar cheese...

'..100g of parmesan...

'..and keep stirring.'

'It's nearly time to assemble our masterpiece,

'so, after chopping the crispy bacon,

'liberally grease a deep oven dish.'

Look at that.

It's really very lustrous, and it's packed with flavour.

Take a third of this and put it into your dish.

Half of the sausages.

If you could cross fertilise a shepherd's pie with a lasagne

with a bit of Eastern Europe thrown in, you've got this.

But, the engine room to this dish is good British pork products.

'Then use half the bacon to add another layer.'

'And some more polenta.'

'But make sure you move quickly

'because the polenta will set if it's allowed to cool.'

'Then layer it up one more time.

'Sausage mix...'

'Bacon...'

'..polenta.'

'And finish off by sprinkling more parmesan and cheddar cheese on top.'

'All that's left is to whack it in a pre-heated oven

'at 190 degrees Celsius for half an hour.

'Leave it cooking away until it's all bubbling and golden.'

I tell you what, it's funny -

Romanians are so famous for being great gymnasts.

Eating that is not going to help on your parallel bars, would it?

-Could you imagine?

-If you were an Olympian, what would you have done?

Rowing. I like being on the water. What about you?

I think synchronised swimming.

You know, when the legs come up like that.

When you get it right it must be very satisfying.

Synchronised swimming. That's the one for me.

Oh, mate - the smell of the cheese, the bacon the sausages...

-I think we're there.

-I do.

-Should I unleash the beast?

-I would.

Oh ho! It's great, all that juice has bubbled through. Look at that.

Oh, man!

Polenta pork, or mamaliga.

# Should it be crispy Soggy or in between? #

A little salad.

It's lovely, this.

I mean, it's got the essence of a traditional British shepherd's pie,

but we like spicy food as well.

It's got the chilli from the paprika, chilli from the sausage.

Wonderful British Cheddar, Italian Parmesan.

But ultimately, it's blooming good British comfort food, isn't it?

It is, and a perfect example of how versatile the British pig is.

Now, from a thing of beauty to this.

There are some traditional dishes that don't have, well,

the best reputation in the world.

Take the humble faggot.

They were once a staple food

in working class industrial areas of Britain,

like South Wales and the English Midlands.

Faggots were cheap to make using offcuts of meat,

particularly pork and offal,

like pig's heart, liver and even sometimes pig brain!

Breadcrumbs and herbs were added and the whole lot was

wrapped in caul fat, which is basically stomach lining.

They became particularly popular during rationing in the war years.

But perhaps because of its association with hard times

and somewhat indiscriminate use of meaty ingredients,

they developed a certain stigma. They were so grim,

even the manufacturers' own marketing men couldn't redeem them.

ADVERT: Birds Eye even suggest that people who don't like faggots

could enjoy these.

They live in hope.

But one man from Raglan in South Wales

is determined to change all of that.

Neil James' family have been butchers since 1959,

and he is on a one-man mission to transform the faggot's reputation.

The faggot, years gone by, was known as the butcher's scraps,

and it's such a waste of a good product.

How are you keeping?

Tiptop, thanks. Can I have a half-dozen faggots, please?

It's full of flavour, lovely spices to it.

People say, "Oh, faggots? I haven't had those three years."

Once they try them, they realise that they're very nice. So they go back.

Instead of bringing fish fingers out the freezer, they might bring some faggots out.

According to Neil, a faggot has to have liver in it,

else it's just a meatball! But there are regional variations.

He doesn't make any old faggots, oh, no. His are Welsh faggots.

And rather than leftover scraps and offal,

his family recipe only uses prime cuts of meat and liver.

We're Welsh, we're famous for our lamb,

and there's lamb in this faggot which adds an different flavour to it.

So, it's a fine balance to get favours right in the faggot,

and it's one of those very traditional things that I think

if you're a proper butcher you should always make.

Now you might be thinking faggots deserve every bit of bad press

they get, but Neil is a man dedicated to his calling.

Gone are the days of making them from random bits of gizzard.

If he's going to shift some pretty entrenched public opinion,

only the very best rare breed pork will do.

For him, Maureen and John Teague's farm in Raglan is the place

with the best pigs around.

-Afternoon, Maureen.

-Well, good afternoon, Mr James. How are you?

-I'm all right. Some nice happy pigs there.

-Always happy here.

Yes, exactly. It's a nice meat. They are Saddlebacks, are they?

-Yes, Saddlebacks. There's a few large White Cross.

-Lovely.

-Some for next week, then.

-You'll have one or two down your shop next week.

-You spoil me, you do, I tell you.

-I do try, Neil. I do try.

He believes a happier pig,

kept in a good environment, produces better meat.

Buying from farmers very local, like Maureen which is a mile away,

and other people in the area of Raglan, it's wonderful.

We know the farmers, we know the traceability of the stock,

low food miles and less stress on the animals. Top-notch. Fair play to her.

You can't fault it either way.

And it's not just the quality of the meat, he uses the best cuts too.

It's shoulders of pork we put in to our faggots.

It's keeping the meat from Monmouthshire,

the faggots are made in Monmouthshire.

More importantly, it's Welsh.

Don't just take Neil's word for it though -

his customers are as convinced as he is.

My dad always had them with a bit of vinegar and bread and butter,

so in the summer like this it's lovely.

But in the winter they're lovely with gravy and potatoes.

There is a much you can do with them. They are great.

Little bit of bacon on top, as well.

I think they've been treated as a cheap food, whereas they shouldn't.

I put them on a par, whether you eat them hot or cold,

with any of the French pate delicacies.

Neil is passionate about his supercharged recipe, and making

the rest of us forget just how grim the old faggots were.

But without access to a brainwashing machine to aid him

on his quest, he's going to let his recipe do the talking,

so the next generation can make their own minds up.

So Neil's recruited a band of intrepid adventurers,

1st Raglan Scout Troupe, to head into uncharted food territory.

I just don't like faggots.

The ingredients sounds a bit iffy, but I think I might like them.

Oh, he might have some convincing to do.

So Neil's going to show the kids how to make them.

Really, it's a meatball, so if you tried faggots

and didn't like them before, get that out your mind.

You're trying the Welsh faggot which is like a meatball,

but it is still a faggot.

They don't look happy!

Neil mixes together pork, lamb, seasoning, onions,

breadcrumbs and liver.

It's the spices and seasoning that's the key to his recipe

If you can get it out of him!

-Is that a secret family recipe?

-Yes it is. Each seasoning in there...

One seasoning helps the lamp, one seasoning helps the pork,

another bit of seasoning helps the liver and adds the flavour.

It's all the little touches make it a bit special.

Here, I thought he was going to let that secret slip!

It's the best bit, the messy bit.

Keep squashing around on it and it should all bind itself together.

I'm not sure he's winning them round, you know.

Well they might be imagining brains!

Not as nice as making cakes, you can't lick the bowl out after,

can you? But there we are. All you do then, put them in the palm

of your hand and keep rolling it and pressing it.

Time for the scouts to have a go,

and banish these fears of inferior faggots forever.

-Do you want to give it all go, then? ALL:

-Yeah!

Squeeze your hands. You got to squeeze your fingers.

Looks good fun, this!

That's perfect. That's right, that's all squashed together, isn't it?

I must be a good teacher, you're listening to me.

Good work, troupe!

-Did you enjoy making faggots? ALL:

-Yes!

-You did.

-Do you fancy eating them now? ALL:

-Yeah!

After a blast in an oven, they're finished off over the campfire

and served up with the classic mushy peas, gravy and a big slab of bread.

Right then, guys, just get a queue round here, please.

They don't look half bad, actually.

Well, they're certainly tucking in, we'll soon know

if Neil's earned his cooking badge.

-Is everyone enjoying their faggots?

-ALL: Yeah!

You can't say better than that!

I thought I wasn't going to like them, but I really do.

They are better than very nice. They are REALLY nice.

I think it's something that we can cook around the campfire

and the kids can get involved with making it.

It'll become a staple part of Raglan Scouts' diet. Definitely.

It may take a while to change the image of the Welsh faggot,

but at least today Neil has won some new recruits to the cause.

And perhaps in the future,

more people will come to the table to tuck in to the tasty faggot.

Now, when it comes to food pairings,

pork and apple has to be one of the greatest known to man.

And there's one breed of pig

that encapsulates this pairing more than most.

The Gloucestershire Old Spot.

ARCHIVE: Once known as the orchard pig because it lived on windfalls,

the meat of the Gloucester Old Spot

is said to be slightly flavoured with apple.

The breed was first registered in 1913,

but it was called the Old Spot

because it had been around as long as anyone could remember.

In fact, it's probably one of the oldest breeds in the world.

And it was always highly prized for its apple-tinged flavour.

But after the Second World War,

things started to turn sour for our spotty friend.

ARCHIVE: It's meat is too fat for today's slimline shoppers,

who demand lean pork.

This change in taste combined with more intensive farming methods

meant that farmers were quick to dump the Old Spot

in favour of the latest in pig innovation.

ARCHIVE: This is the Earls Court of the pig breeding world,

and this year, the Chinese year of the pig, farmers are confident

there are more new models on display than the motor show.

Unveiled after an intensive year of secret breeding, the new,

low-slung, longer, lean look.

These new and imported breeds were better suited to modern farming

and more efficient and trimmer.

# Two little piggies go walking Two little piggies go talking... #

See the difference in the back fat. This is the Landrace, and it's not

so thick as the Gloucester Old Spot which you can see right there.

And you can also see the difference here in the cuts.

This is the Landrace that is the Gloucester Old Spot,

and there is the difference in the chop.

By the mid 1970's,

things were looking pretty dire for the Gloucester Old Spot.

ARCHIVE: Only two herds of Old Spots are left,

and local people not faddy about fat prefer them.

For 25 years, Mrs Price cooked for a country hotel near Lydney.

She prefers the distinctive orchard flavour of Old Spot.

The flavour of this you'll find much better than the lean ones.

They are not so easy to get. We used to in our days,

but you can get it, and of course it's the best.

ARCHIVE: The Gloucester Old Spot could become popular again

if there were a return to outdoor rearing,

but there's not much hope of that.

Thankfully, he was wrong, and in an era when flavour and welfare

has become increasingly important,

the portly Old Spot is making a comeback.

But without its faithful fans, it might not have survived long enough

to have another bite of the apple.

Our final recipe is a celebration of that glorious union of pig

and apple, but we're going to get even more fruity with it.

Tender loin fillets stuffed with a mind-boggling

array of scrumptious ingredients.

A beautiful and tangy shock to the taste buds.

Do you know, at the last count,

there is around five million pigs in Britain.

That's like one porker for every five of us. But this is special.

And this little pig is going to a party.

Oh, yes, this is our homage to the pig. You see, we're going to do

a pork tenderloin wrapped in streaky bacon and stuffed with apricots,

ginger...

Apples, everything that is possible to dress pork up

to show it to its best advantage.

-We love it.

-We are going to ginger this pig up. Oh, Kingy!

I better get on with the stuffing.

To begin, I'm going to trim the sinew and excess fat

off two 500g tenderloin pork fillets.

And for the stuffing,

I need to finely chop one large banana shallot

and melt a knob of butter in a pan with some olive oil.

Add the shallot and begin sweating it down,

but you don't want to colour it.

-Kingy?

-Yes, mate?

-Which bit of pork is your favourite?

-Belly pork.

-You said that very quickly.

-I love it.

I like it when it's cooked properly,

when it's cooked slowly and the crackling is really crisp,

because on belly pork, it is the best crackling in the world.

What about you?

I quite like a pork loin roast with the crackling on the top,

but I think one of the pleasures I love, it's a pork chop,

and you get it done just right, so it's like charred on the outside,

and you remember to cook the fatty side

so you've even got a bit of crackling on your chop.

Crackling one end, chop, kidney, and the fat's cooked as well

and that's part of it,

but the meat is not overcooked so it's still juicy.

-Just right.

-Just right.

-Nice.

Another ingredient that goes great with pork is garlic,

so I want two cloves of garlic in this,

and I'm going to crush them, because I want maximum flavour.

Then peel one English eating apple, core it and roughly chop.

While Dave's getting on with that,

I'm going to prepare this gorgeous meat.

Place one of the tenderloins between two pieces of cling film

and bash with a rolling pin until it's about 1cm thick.

Then do the same with the other fillet.

You know how sometimes your roll clingfilm is unpredictable

and it sticks together,

it doesn't come off in the sheet how you want it?

Keep your clingfilm in the freezer, and it makes it more handleable,

and as it warms up in the kitchen it reforms perfectly well.

-That a top tip, actually.

-Oh, it is.

Apples and pork, they were born to be together.

It was a symbiotic relationship that worked.

Put the chopped up apple in with the garlic and the shallot and add

ten dried, quartered apricots...

..and a handful of sultanas.

Stem ginger balls - love them.

It's ginger that's been macerated in syrup,

and it's just the thing for the stuffing. I want three balls,

and I'm going to use some of the syrup in the stuffing later.

Chop this finely. They go into the mix, too.

Breadcrumbs. These are going to soak up all the wonderful fruity,

garlicky, onion-y flavours.

I'm using 75 grams.

Add the zest and juice of an unwaxed lemon.

Now add a teaspoon of ground ginger.

Now the herbage.

I want three tablespoons of chopped parsley

and one tablespoon of chopped thyme.

Then drizzle in one tablespoon of stem ginger syrup.

Finally season the stuffing mixture

with salt and plenty of black pepper.

If you had to make stuffing for pork, this is the one, isn't it?

Bit of a fiddle. A few more ingredients than we'd like,

but each ingredient is there for a reason, and it works.

While Dave's been attending to his stuffing,

I've arranged about 16 rindless smoked streaky bacon rashers

onto another piece of clingfilm. Overlap them slightly,

then lay the pork tenderloin on top.

-Should I start to pack?

-Absolutely.

I want to keep this along the pork.

Lovely textures as well, aren't they?

Yes, and it is a good, good layer of stuffing.

The stuffing is part of this dish, it's not just a dressing.

You can imagine when you cut through this you've got the bacon,

you've got that pork, and you've got this technical stuffing

with all that fruit and space.

Then take the top off

and lie it across the other top of the stuffing.

-Now, you've got to roll it.

-Do you want a drum roll?

Tight.

-So what we do...

-That's great, Kingy.

And you've got really good overlap on your bacon

so it's not going to explode.

-It's like a pig torpedo, isn't it?

-It's brilliant.

-Oh, yes!

-And now...

-It's good value, because the pork loin is cheap.

Then re-wrap your pig torpedo in more clingfilm nice and tightly

so it keeps its shape.

-Kingy, there's a flaw in the plan.

-What?

-I'm hungry,

and this has to go in the fridge for 24 hours before we bake it.

-Guess what?

-What?

-Here's one we did earlier.

-I know, I was there.

I know.

That, Mr King, is perfect.

Excellent, isn't it? Can't wait.

Yeah. To the fridge for 24 hours. You go chill!

So in age-old telly style,

and much to the relief of my rumbling tummy,

here's the one we prepared yesterday.

Remove the clingfilm and place it on a lightly-greased baking tray,

but make sure the join is at the bottom

so the whole thing doesn't unravel.

We're going to cook it in a pre-heated oven

at 200 degrees Celsius for 50 minutes.

Before too long, your kitchen will be alive with the most

incredible gourmet piggy smell.

Pork and herbs and apple and ginger. Woo! Get it out.

-Look at that.

-Oh, yes!

-Fantastic.

Let's have a look, then.

Dig into it and let's have a look at the strata.

-Perfect.

-It is, yeah.

'We're serving it with a creamy ginger sauce.

'The recipe is on the website.'

'We'll give you the address at the end of the show.'

It's just a bit special, isn't it?

-It is. It looks nice. It's an event, isn't it?

-Yeah, yeah.

That's superb. That stuffing is brilliant. Because it's still sharp.

And we used smoky bacon on this as well,

and that's lovely, it's a lovely smoky flavour.

It's yet another level of flavour.

Well, the great British pig. You cannae whack it.

So there it is - all the proof you need that British pork is

the best in the world.

The humble pig has been there for us through thick and thin.

And now it's time for us to do our bit.

To celebrate our native breeds...

And ensure they are there for future generations to enjoy.

You can find out how to cook the recipes in today's show

by going to -

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd