In Orvieto, while I ordered the panino con porchetta for lunch, the girls were asked if they wanted the same thing. Ashley ordered prosciutto, she was asked whether she wanted prosciutto crudo or cinghiale? I said, crudo, thinking she might be gross out about cinghiale. As we were biting into our sandwiches, she asked, 'what is cinghiale?' I said, 'wild boar'. She said she would have loved to try wild boar, that I should have let her ordered it. I guess, thinking back, I should have told her what it is and let her decide. We might be gross out about wild boar but the Europeans love their wild boar. I have eaten wild boar before in Malaysia. It not bad at all. Thinking back, I should have also ordered wild boar together with my porchetta. Oh well, maybe next time.
A visit to my brother's house in Toronto means eating venison among other game animals. He is a hunter and every year he and his buddies spent a week in the wild hunting game. There's always a slice of venison in his freezer among other game. He's an avid hunter, always been even when we were still living in Malaysia. He is the only one of us who own guns, hunting rifles. Our father owned a hunting rifle while we were growing up. We, girls were never taught how to use it but all my brothers were, they learned how to shoot and how to clean the gun. Thinking back, I would have loved to know how to handle a gun even if it's just a hunting rifle.
In Elizabeth David's book, 'Italian Food', she gives a few recipes on how to cook wild boar. "Marinate a leg of boar for 24 hours in a marinade composed of......." "Sardinian wild boar, although a little dry, certainly has a most excellent flavour"
I will certainly try cinghiale the next time I'm in Italy.