Seven Names from One Pig

Miko, remember our pancetta?

…Hmph. I’m quality control, nya. Of course I remember.

We made carbonara with it! Onii-chan said it was “our answer” — like, not Italian-correct or Japanese-correct, just ours. And you had some too, right?

…Quality control, nya.

So after we ate it, I started thinking — did we even call it the right name?

…What do you mean, nya?

Turns out, pancetta isn’t just one thing.

Pancetta actually comes in two main shapes — arrotolata and tesa.

…Never heard of either, nya.

Arrotolata is when you roll the cured pork belly into a cylinder and tie it with string. When you cut it, you get this gorgeous spiral. It’s more of a northern Italy thing.

Tesa is when you just leave it flat. Kinda like how bacon looks. That’s more central and southern Italy.

…Which one did we make, nya?

…We kept it flat in a ziplock bag the whole time, remember? And wrapped it flat in the Pichit sheet…

…Tesa, nya.

Yep! We accidentally made the southern Italian style without even knowing it (≧∇≦)

…Hmph. Rolling or not rolling — that’s just shape. Same taste, nya.

Actually no! When you roll it, the outer fat layer wraps around the lean meat, so basically the fat slowly seeps into the lean during aging. Tesa dries more evenly from the surface, so you taste the meat more directly.

…Like maki rolls versus pressed sushi, nya.

Wait that’s actually a perfect comparison?!

So here’s the cool part — Italy actually has two government-certified “real” pancettas. They have DOP certification, which is kinda like… y’know how only sparkling wine from the Champagne region can be called Champagne? Same idea.

…Like Champagne, nya.

The first one is Pancetta Piacentina, from a town called Piacenza up north in Emilia-Romagna. It’s the rolled type, aged in the cold air near the Po River, seasoned with black pepper and cloves. Super elegant spiral slices.

The second one is Pancetta di Calabria, from way down south. This one’s flat — tesa style — and it’s covered in bright red chili powder.

…Red, nya?

Calabria is basically the spicy food capital of southern Italy! They also make ‘nduja there — this spreadable salami that’s like half chili paste.

…Same pancetta, but the north is black and the south is red, nya.

Right?? Same pork belly, same salt, same idea — but the local spices turn it into something totally different. The cold wind of Piacenza and the sun of Calabria each leave their mark.

…Miso, nya.

Huh?

…Sendai’s red miso and Kyoto’s white miso. Same soybeans, same salt. The land and the climate change the flavor, nya.

…Italy and Japan, doing the same thing on opposite sides of the world…

…I said this before. Wherever there’s salt, ingredients, and changing seasons — the same thing happens, nya.

OK so here’s the real thing I wanted to talk about (≧∇≦)

…That was all just the intro, nya?

Pancetta is cured pork belly, right? But Italy has this whole family of cured meats made from OTHER parts of the pig.

First up — guanciale. It’s cured pork cheek. “Guancia” means “cheek” in Italian. If pancetta is “little belly,” guanciale is basically “big cheek.”

…Guanciale is the real one for carbonara, nya. I mentioned this before.

Yep yep! Guanciale has way more fat than pancetta, so when you cook it, the fat just melts out and gives you this super rich, deep flavor.

…Cheek meat. The fat sits right next to muscles that work hard, nya.

Right — pigs have really strong jaws. They’re constantly chewing tough stuff and rooting around in the ground, so the muscles around their cheeks get a serious workout. And the fat near hardworking muscles picks up more flavor.

…Same reason chicken thighs have more flavor than breast meat, nya.

OK and the one that blew my mind the most — Lardo di Colonnata.

…Lardo, nya. That’s just fat.

Yep, pure pork back fat. But here’s the thing — they cure it in marble basins in this tiny village in Tuscany called Colonnata.

…Marble, nya?

They layer the back fat with salt, rosemary, and garlic in these stone tubs called “conca” — carved from local Carrara marble. Same marble Michelangelo used for his sculptures. Then they seal it with a marble lid and let it age for six months or more.

And the marble isn’t just a fancy container — it actually regulates the acidity inside and keeps the fat from going rancid. The marble itself is part of the aging process.

…Like a pickling jar shaping the flavor, nya. The container changes what’s inside.

But here’s the part I love the most. Colonnata is a marble quarry village. The workers there were too poor to buy the good cuts of pork — so they bought the cheapest part, the back fat, and preserved it with rosemary growing wild nearby, inside marble they had plenty of.

…

Couldn’t afford good meat, so they used back fat. Had no fancy equipment, so they used marble. And now, hundreds of years later, it’s served in high-end restaurants.

…Peperoncino, nya.

Huh?

…Peperoncino was poor people’s food, nya. Just pasta, oil, and chili — the “pasta of desperation” — and now it’s one of Italy’s most famous dishes.

Poor people’s food gets a name after centuries, then gets a protected label. Born from nothing… and now nobody wants to lose it, nya.

…

Hey, Miko?

…Nya.

From one pig — pancetta, guanciale, lardo… Belly, cheek, back. Change the cut and the name changes. Change the land and the flavor changes.

But they’re all doing the same thing. Rub in salt, and wait.

…Same principle, different answers depending on the place and the cut, nya.

Ours was tesa — flat, made in a ziplock bag with a Pichit sheet. No DOP label, obviously.

…Nya.

But it was born from Hokkaido pork belly, Izu Oshima sea salt, and our fridge.

…Piacenza has the cold river wind. Calabria has sun and chili. Colonnata has marble, nya.

And you have a Pichit sheet… and a quality control officer, nya.

(〃´∪｀〃)

…What are you making next, nya.

…Guanciale.

…Pork cheek, nya. Can you even find that in Sapporo?

…Haven’t looked yet.

…Look first, then talk, nya.