A noted artist introduces you to his other obsession, making artisanal meats
I create large-scale glass sculptures for buildings designed by architects such as Frank Gehry and Norman Foster. But I have another creative interest: I make artisanal cured meats at home, a hands-on obsession that began four years ago. The two processes are surprisingly similar. Stretching glass to its limits requires discipline. Once a piece goes into my 3,000-degree kiln, natural processes take over that can't be controlled. Careful planning encourages spontaneous results that are charged with visual power and life. It's the same with salami.
Once a month, my friends and I meet in my kitchen for an afternoon of salami making. I control the ingredients and the environment, like in an experiment. I combine organic pork, salt, garlic, wine, spices, and curing salt, hang the casings in a modified wine fridge set to a specific temperature and humidity, and then introduce a bacteria culture to prevent spoilage and enhance the salami's flavor. Depending on the size of the salami, curing can take anywhere from a few weeks to several months. The meat transforms into something both surprising and sublime, and it tastes far more complex and nuanced than anything mass-produced. Served with a full-bodied beer and some olives as an appetizer, a slice of homemade salami is hard to beat. It's more than food. It's art.
Homemade salami also happens to be far healthier than the processed stuff sold in most grocery stores. I source the hogs from an organic farmer who lets the animals roam freely and doesn't treat them with antibiotics or growth hormones. The hogs rummage for roots, nuts, and berries, and they occasionally eat organic grain. Paul Bertolli, a chef and salami expert in Berkeley, California, says that free-range pork live and die with far less stress than conventional confinement-raised pigs. That results in their meat often having a higher pH, which affects texture and taste. Curing my own meat has confirmed my belief in the importance of doing things myself. It requires patience, care, and delayed gratification, but if you're game, here's how to get started.
THE PLAN Cure your own old-world, Italian-style bacon
For a simple introduction to curing meat that doesn't require the use of curing salt, which can get complicated, try making the little-known Italian delicacy
guanciale. Made from pig jowls, guanciale has a stronger pork flavor than bacon and isn't quite as lean as pancetta. Making it yourself is less problematic than making salami because the curing salt is optional; after curing the jowls for a month, you simply cook the meat as you would bacon. Use it in the delicious Roman pasta dish
Bucatini all'Amatriciana—a favorite at Mario Batali's restaurant Babbo—or add it to an omelet as a simple upgrade.
Guanciale (Cured Pork Jowl)
½ cup sugar
½cup kosher salt
1 tsp. crushed fresh black peppercorns
4 sprigs fresh thyme leaves
½tsp. dried hot-pepper flakes
1 pork jowl (sometimes called cheeks), about 2 lbs., skin on
Note: Use pork belly instead to make regular bacon.
I create large-scale glass sculptures for buildings designed by architects such as Frank Gehry and Norman Foster. But I have another creative interest: I make artisanal cured meats at home, a hands-on obsession that began four years ago. The two processes are surprisingly similar. Stretching glass to its limits requires discipline. Once a piece goes into my 3,000-degree kiln, natural processes take over that can't be controlled. Careful planning encourages spontaneous results that are charged with visual power and life. It's the same with salami. 
