This week, Templeton Rye announced they have been raising 25 Duroc pigs specifically bred and fed to taste like whiskey. Consuming the spent grain used to make Templeton, the pork meat will meld the delicious taste of pig with nuanced hints of just as delicious whiskey.
The distillery will be giving away the pigs to qualified applicants and has promised to review every inquiry equally, be from the executive sous chef of a Michelin-starred restaurant to a Brooklyn-based blogger.
Here is the application I sent.
SUBJECT: Give Me a Fucking Whiskey Pig
Hey there! Sorry for cursing in the subject line, but I’m really excited. My Dad actually told me recently he thought I cursed too much. He gave swearing up for Lent, which made him hyper-aware of everyone else’s foul-mouthed tendencies. He asked me to give it up, too, but I don’t believe in God and self-restraint has never been my thing (I’m applying for a whole pig here). Also, Lent has been over for months, so I’m not sure why I brought that up. Happy Easter!
But back to these 25 Duroc pigs you are raising in Woodward, Iowa, pigs consuming a diet precisely tailored to bring forth a subtle flavor of whiskey, enhancing an already perfect product.
I would like one. I would honestly like two, but I think it’s a bit absurd of me to ask for an extra one, as there are most likely more than 25 people applying for these pigs, and no one should be denied one on account of my gluttony. That said, if you only get 23 requests, or the majority of applicants have been convicted of felonies (these are chefs and people running barbecue joints, after all) I will gladly accept a second pig.
But why do I deserve a whiskey pig? Well, let’s use the words on your website, which I will forthrightly state I vehemently disagree with.
Whether you’re a chef interested in creating a special menu event at your restaurant or a Bootleggers Society member interested in smoking a pig in your own back yard, we’re currently entertaining all inquiries.
I admit a talented chef has the ability to tremendously elevate a product you’ve invested a great deal of time, effort and money into. But do you really think whiskey pig wants its offal braised in a brown butter sage sauce? And do you think whiskey pig would like for people to spend upwards of $150 eating it? Breaking their banks—their hard-earned salaries—for his humble flesh?
No. This is whiskey pig. You are feeding it a diet of spent grain. Spent grain! This animal is literally subsisting on used food. Whiskey pig is not for the bourgeoisie of the world. Pork is the most humble of foods; whiskey the most earnest of spirits. Whiskey pig does not yearn to be hoi pig-llio.
Whiskey pig is for the people.
Which brings me to what I would do if I was granted my own whiskey pig. I would give it all away. For free. Everyone deserves an opportunity to taste whiskey pig. That’s why I’m going to throw the biggest whiskey pig party the world has ever known (also: the first).
Do not fret about my abilities to pay proper respect to whiskey pig. I have two close friends—already committed to helping—who are sous chefs at James Beard-nominated restaurants. They are also drunks. So while they can make that fine, sage, brown butter sauce that you know Stephanie Izard will sauté her whiskey pig in (and I know you are giving her one, so we are already down to 24), we will be cooking a down-to-earth oink-er.
We will braise one shoulder. Smoke another. Grill up chops and try our hand at chitterlings. Make pork rinds. I will make so many sides. Braised collard greens. An orzo salad so big small children can swim in it. Then we will give all that food away for free. First come, first serve. With tons and tons of whiskey.
(Speaking of which, if I am granted a pig, I would appreciate a donation of 35 bottles of Templeton to the cause. If not, I’ll be forced to serve Old Grand-Dad, which, while easier for a lowly blogger to purchase, may not properly complement your pork.)
Not only will this be amazing publicity for your whiskey pigs (and your brand) it’s the right thing to do. Think about how obnoxious it would be to read about the wealthy dining on whiskey pig at Per Se.
Give whiskey pig to the people. Let me cook for them.
And if you don’t, I will purchase a Tommy Gun and shoot up every bottle of Templeton in every liquor store I enter, like a G-Man in the 20s (you are a Prohibition-era rye), until I exhaust your entire supply or am arrested by the ATF.
Like I said: Give me a fucking whiskey pig.
For those of you that read this, help me out by tweeting, please.
[Image via Templeton Rye]