Lardo
Spin it how you want, its human nature to find excuses to justify your desires. And lardo is so well-loved at the moment—the apex of comfort food eating—criticizing it would be the equivalent of saying that you don’t like rainbows and babies
The person who first invented must’ve been a genius—and crazy. But the best things in life—and on the plate—always come with a little bit of both. What’s crazy about lardo should be obvious—it doesn’t take a Latin major to deduce from the etymological root word that lardo is made out of lard, or pork fat. More specifically, it’s a hunk of 100 percent pork fat cured with herbs and spices (probably in some town in Northern Italy, where it first originated), and then sliced into gossamer thin strips for serving.
Silky, delicate, slightly nutty, it melts like cotton candy the moment it hits your tongue and the bouquet of herbs and essential oils fill your sinus cavity as you exhale. Do I even need to explain why it’s genius?
As I’m typing now, my fingertips are leaving behind a sinful trail of greasy goodness left over from my lardo diversion, which came at me from behind earlier today. I had initially set out to help Mandy pick up her new puppy from the groomers. But when the staff suggested it would take three hours to ready the what can only be described as the most high-maintenance bichon frise (French for “curly white lap dog”), we detoured for apertivos at Divino’s.
And that’s where we fell in love with lardo.
On a wooden tray, against the smorgasbord of other salume, lardo stands out from the crowd in its signature white shade. Strip after strip, we ate it all up, as if we fell into some Calypso trance and forgot we had any obligations for the rest of the day.
We took it one step further. Asking for some takeaway lardo, we went back to my place and upped the stakes. Lardo on toast, three seconds under the broiler, has the same effect as a hybrid of melted cheese, butter, and bacon. Lardo wrapped around a ripe fig. Lardo draped over a fried egg. Lardo on a grilled rice ball. It’s like a magic cloak-everything with a sheet of lardo becomes the super-hero version of itself.