The Loss of Pork Moss

I recently visited my butcher in Kensington and discovered the tragic news. PORK MOSS is no longer available commercially. In fact, Falco, my butcher, says that he's worried pork moss might become completely extinct. He says consumers these days just aren't interested in consuming anything that "grows on the shady side of the pig."

When I heard this, my ascot was stiffened straight as a board by the fury-based-radiation (rageiation) emitted by my ancient Sumatran mood necklace. People today have no taste! I remember when PORK MOSS, sometimes called "hog's moss" or "hog's maws" was considered one of the greatest delicacies in the world -- ranked fourth in Billionaire Gourmand Magazine (at the time the only subscribers were myself and Carnegie) after whale eyes, sturgeon roe and truffles.

What is more disturbing is that Falco informs me that an entire generation may have already grown up never even having heard of PORK MOSS. In my opinion, one can hardly be said to have reached adulthood until one has tasted a fresh plate of PORK MOSS.

For those who have had the misfortune of being until now unaware of PORK MOSS, I will enlighten you. PORK MOSS is a kind of fungus, a very picky fungus which grows only on the smartest, bravest old hogs. It appears as a bloom of curly red hairs, which gradually grow thicker as they plumpen themselves upon hog. Eventually, a ripe batch of PORK MOSS will reach the diameter of spaghettini and it will be ready to harvest.

It does indeed grow best when shaded from the sun, and a good hog-herder will have his hogs walk in a gigantic demi-circle throughout the day, so that one side of the hog always faces away from the sun. The fungus is extremely painful to the hog, because it feeds directly on the hog's blood, but the type of hog that the fungus targets is far too proud to ever hint at his pain.

PORK MOSS rightfully deserves its place as the fourth best delicacy. It has the flavour of particularly oily and vibrant Shitake mushrooms, fortified with oaky notes and a punch of anise, infused into this potent flavour, and mind you naturally infused, are all the most subtle and poignant flavours and aromas of world-class thick-cut smoked bacon.

If any of my readers currently have access to PORK MOSS, I urge you to send me a live sample immediately so that I may devote a portion of my vast wealth to the creation and maintenance of a fully functioning and sustainable PORK MOSS farming operation. The loss of PORK MOSS would be not only a sign of the apocalypse, but for this old gourmand, too much to bear. I will stand on my roof, amidst my dozens of chimneys and wave a flag of surrender before the four horseman if I have to live another day in a world without PORK MOSS.


Blogger Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...

That's new to me alright. Do you boil it?

1:04 p.m.  
Blogger me said...

Meet me under the oak that grows at the foot of the asparagus stalk, where the sun only shines for an eighth of a second. There, I will give you the contact info of my PORK MOSS dealer in Chamistywaga, where everyone is fresh and even the men wear tube tops.

11:06 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

you did it. it is written. it must have been fun.

3:51 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

oh yeah
anyway, pork moss is good
it was just to dry for me at the time
out on the stoop without a drop to drink.

3:53 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Sooo Delicious....

1:41 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

One of my favorite bands, The Greyboy Allstars, sing a song about chitlins (another so-gross-it's-good part of the swine...the intestines!) in which they also mention "hog moss". I knew what chitlins were having grown up in the southern parts of the US but had some how missed out on hog moss somewhere along the way. Thanks for this illuminating tid bit.

2:49 p.m.  
Blogger Erick said...

is this for real? LOL

I hope so.

3:53 p.m.  

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