Modern factory pork. Blah. No flavour, no texture, no real reason to eat it.
Places like The Black Hoof in Toronto get it: pork is all about the texture, the taste, the fat permeating the meat. I shared, with two friends, a stuffed pork snout on my birthday. It was a dish to savour and remember.
Websurfing a few weeks ago, I ran across a description of Wooly pigs, a breed seldom seen on this continent.
Look at this and tell me you don’t want some. One day, one day.