How to Make Perfect Pork Crackling in the Microwave

Im an out-and-proud fat-fancier. What other meat can compare to its soft, melting texture and satisfying oily crunch? I know I’m not the only one, even though skinless, low-fat chicken breasts are becoming more popular as a healthy choice. In fact, pork belly has replaced lamb shank as the trendy cut of meat, and whoever orders all that fat isn’t going to leave it on the side of the plate.

As good as fat tastes, for me the best thing about it is how it feels, like chicken feet or water biscuits. Pork crackling is the best example of this: the top is blistered and as dry and crunchy as an autumn leaf, but underneath is a layer of soft, creamy fat. Not-so-great crackling is the worst thing that can happen to a cook; seeing so much potential wasted is enough to make you cry. But moisture is the enemy of crispy crackling. Much better to make sure it doesnt happen in the first place.

The basic principles of great crackling seem simple enough. First of all, the scoring. There’s no question about it: everyone says to score the rind in vertical lines about a finger’s width apart, usually with a Stanley knife. For the heat to reach the fat, this is done so that the fat can bubble up through the cuts and baste the top while it cooks. If you cut too far down and get to the meat, the juices will also come out, which is obviously not what you want.

Sadly, this is where the happy crackling consensus breaks down. Post-scoring, everyone goes their own separate ways in search of the porcine holy grail. Since I couldn’t find even two recipes that agreed on exactly what to do and when to do it, I came up with seven main schools of thought. I then went in search of the ingredients I needed: pork belly slices. When I was doing research, I learned from the great Simon Hopkinson that “there are two simple things necessary for crackling: a nice dry rind and a good thick layer of fat underneath it.” This is why I chose the belly as my crackling cut. ” And I reckon four layers of fat will be even better than one.

The butcher at the Ginger Pig is slightly surprised by my mission. Why dont I just put them in a pan to crisp up, he suggests. He suggests salt and maybe a blow torch “the kind you use on crème brulees” when I tell him how scientific my experiment is. His colleague clearly has bigger ideas – “what about one of those wallpaper stripping things?” he chips in. They are really hot. I briefly consider investigating tool hire, but then remember that I am not Heston Blumenthal. Besides, I have enough work to do.

Two of my recipes call for advance preparation. In order to get the rind to separate from the fat, Simon Hopkinson wants me to pour boiling water over the meat. This is a common method used to tighten the skin of Chinese duck before the bird is hung out to dry. Because this process goes against the need for a nice dry rind, it has to be done the day before cooking so that the pork has enough time to dry out after its hot shower.

After wrapping the pale slice in a clean tea towel and putting it in the fridge, I move on to recipe two, which comes from the food blog Gastronomy Domine. Even though it takes the most work, I’m looking forward to great results from this method, which uses the most similar tool to a wallpaper stripper I have. I salt the skin of the pork as if “the pork were somebody [I] particularly like who is demanding a lovely exfoliating massage” (rather than Fanny Cradock’s “as if into the face of your worst enemy”). Then I’m told to “get ready to look slightly unbalanced in front of any visitors” and “take a hairdryer to the skin of the meat until it’s bone dry.” “.

Rhythmically blow-drying a strip of pig is a surprisingly relaxing activity. One end has a delicate flush of skin that I admire. I stop to carefully cut off a stray bristle before it cracks in the heat. As soon as the rind is as dry as a Saharan skull baked in the sun, it is put into a second clean tea towel. These seem to be important for making crackling because they soak up moisture while still letting the meat breathe.

The last method requiring advance preparation is Delia Smiths. So that the meat has “genuinely crisp crackling,” she tells me, I need to take it out of the package as soon as I get home (it’s only been 20 minutes), “dry thoroughly, and leave uncovered in the fridge.” I gently pat it with a kitchen towel because I’m glad I didn’t have to use any more tea towels. Then I put it on a plate next to the other four pieces in their fun checked paper, ready for tomorrow’s porcine extravaganza.

The next morning, I take the scalded pork from the fridge and put it in the coolest part of the kitchen, as he asks. I call it Simon. I would like to say that I hung it exactly the way he told me to, but I forgot to buy a meat hook, so I just put it next to an open window and leave it to hang. Around noon, I start to think that it must have attracted dangerous animals, but when I get home, it’s still there. Possibly foxes are over the whole pork belly thing already.

There is thirty minutes left. I salt Simon and, as instructed, push the meat deep into his fat. I then turn the oven up to its highest setting. (Learned from experience and following Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s recipes, an initial blast of heat is necessary if you want to have any chance of getting the food crisp. In line with the Good Housekeeping Institute’s instructions, I salt a new slice of pork ten minutes before I plan to put it in. Then, with a deep breath, Im ready to assemble the troops.

Simon, still strangely pale from yesterdays hot shower, can go straight into the roasting tin. Good Housekeeping says that the slice should be dried off, “smeared liberally” with oil, and then given a little more salt. According to the Leiths Cookery Bible, I brush another piece with oil and sprinkle it with salt. I don’t do what the Good Housekeeping Cookery Book says and instead skip the step of pre-salting and drying. Delia’s pork, on the other hand, needs to be kept away from the Maldon until the very end because “salt draws out moisture.” “Under no circumstances,” she says in her Complete Cookery Course, “put any fat near the crackling.” This puts her method up against Leiths and Good Housekeeping together. The drama!).

The difficult blow-dried pork needs another salt massage—my kitchen is starting to feel like a pork spa—and then a fountain of molten goose fat is poured over it all. Its skin blisters satisfyingly, presaging, I feel, great things. Just before serving, the last two slices will get extra attention, so I just salt them and put them in with the others.

I can hardly bear to step away from the oven during the 15-minute scorch period. When I leave it alone for two minutes to greet the crack Crackling Expert I hired for the event, smoke starts to leak out of the door. But the slices are getting nice and brown, so I open the window a bit more and turn up the extractor fan until it’s time to lower the temperature to a more reasonable 180˚C. I light the grill ten minutes before they’re supposed to come out, making even more smoke. I do this after giving myself a glass of wine to calm down.

I have to say that when I take the pork slices out of the oven, they all look pretty good, if a little too much alike. I tell the Expert, who is breathing in their greasy smell with a face full of happiness, that a few terrible fails would have made the judging process easier. “How could you wish for soggy crackling?” she asks incredulously, indicating the magnificent nut-brown vista ahead of us.

I let her handle the rest of the meat and cut the fat and rind off of the last two pieces. I put one under the hot grill for four minutes and the other in the microwave for two. (The microwave, according to various online sages, is a foolproof way of rescuing disappointing crackling. The Expert has never heard of this idea before, so she is torn between being amazed as she watches it go around and around and being afraid that it will blow up and blind her with a jet of hot pig fat. In fact, it just puffs up slightly. The grilled crackling, on the other hand, turns a darker tan color. It’s Peter Andre to the five Katie Prices who are sitting next to the stove.

Crackling Expert can’t wait to start judging, so I let her start tapping the slices to see how they feel. Then we look at how it looks and then do the crunch test, where each of us bites into a piece while the other rates the sound effect. Finally, I allow her tuck in.

Patted dry and put in the fridge without a lid; salted just before serving. Taste: 7/10 Look: 8/10 Feel: 8 5/10 Taste: 8/10 There was some crunch all the way through, but it needed more salt (maybe because it wasn’t rubbed in like the others).

Brushed with oil and salt Tap: 5/10 Looks good: 7/10 Crunch: 2/10 Tastes good: 3/10 It was the chewiest slice and needed scissors to cut. It also lacked that important crunch.

Pre-salted, patted dry, liberally oiled then salted Tap: 6/10 Visual appeal: 9/10 Crunch: 7. 5/10 Taste: 8/10 A compromise: Crackling Expert liked how crumbly and friable it was, but I thought this one was lacking in substance.

Simon Hopkinson – runner up

Scalded, aired, massaged with salt Tap: 9/10 Visual appeal: 8. 5/10 Crunch: 9/10 Taste: 8. 5. 9/10 This was always crispy, but the fat inside wasn’t as soft as some of the others; it came in second place.

A pork crackling tip microwave rescue hack

FAQ

Can you microwave pork crackle?

How to crisp up crackling in the microwave without a?

How to cook pork in the microwave?

How do you cook cracklings in a microwave?

Wrap a length of paper towel over the crackling and tuck the free ends under the plate so that the towel remains in place in the microwave. This is very important, failing to do this will splatter fat all around the inside of the microwave. Set microwave on high for 1 to 2 minutes (no longer as it may burn the crackling).

Can You microwave pork crackling?

Microwaving pork crackling is also a good option for those who are trying to watch their fat intake. By using the microwave instead of frying or roasting in fat, you can reduce the amount of fat in your dish while still achieving a crispy result. When it comes to achieving the perfect pork crackling, choosing the right cut of pork is crucial.

Can You microwave pork?

When microwaving pork it is best to follow the manufacturer’s instruction manual because different varieties of microwaves vary in cooking times, depending on their size and wattage. Smaller boneless cuts of pork cook better in the microwave than larger cuts.

How to cook pork crackling?

It’s important to note that the cooking process for pork crackling requires high heat to bring the roast meat to temperature and to quickly render fat from the skin. This creates the best crispy crackling. Therefore, it’s essential to choose a cut of pork that has a good layer of fat on top.