By the time my father and I returned home from the farm it was already 10:30am. All week I couldn't wait to use my freshly sharpened knifes, and brand new hack saw so we jumped right in. By the time noon rolled around we were only half way done breaking down the pig, and STARVING. I had just found the first tenderloin and it was very small... so I said, "Ma...lets crust this thing with some garlic and herbs from out side and...You got lemons right?" We pan seared it and finished it in the oven until it reached 165 degrees F.
My mother whipped up a quick tomato salad, with red onion, garlic, basil, good extra virgin olive oil and sea salt.
I de-glazed the pan with some Pino Grigio, and it made a nice sauce. The meat was very flavorful, we argued whether it was gamy or not. I thought it was a little but i was smelling fermented blood at the farm all morning.
Cooked perfectly if I don't say so myself
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