Chittlin meal more social event than culinary treat By JIM SCHUH of The Gazette Last week, I told about a chittlin supper that the Meeks High School Band boosters held on St. Patrick's Day in Arley, Ala. Chittlins are hogs' small intestines that need plenty of attention before people actually eat them. Even after cleaning them and cooking them three ways, I still wonder about people who eat them, even though I realize that throughout the history of sausage-making, butchers have used them for casings. It so happens that Ben Cantrell, my wife's niece's husband, a likeable and otherwise sensible fellow, served as a chittlin cooker at Arley again this year. His kids are in the Meeks band, and he accepted the unenviable job of boiling the tubular treasures, and then cleaning out the cauldrons. This year, Ben and his cohorts boiled 350 pounds of chittlins for 2 hours, before sending them to the pressure cooker and the fryer. The sponsors realize that some people don't have enough "intestinal fortitude" to devour their "delicacies," but still want to support the band. Their answer was to prepare 750 pounds of grilled chicken. Almost all humans consider chicken more edible, although the event organizers claim, "the chicken is for the chickens" who won't touch chittlins. Complementing the chittlins at supper are crackling bread, coleslaw and potato salad. The guests sit at long tables set with candy corn, toilet paper that takes the place of napkins (seems appropriate), bowls of onions and cartons of buttermilk. Eating enough of those side dishes is one way to eliminate the aftertaste of chittlins. What surprised me was learning that this intestinal feast attracted people from neighboring states, and visitors from as far away as Iowa and Massachusetts. Ben said that one fellow, Bill Knight, told him he'd helped with preparations way back in the beginning, and that he'd missed just two of the 39 annual suppers -- once while he was overseas in the military, and again while on a job in Miami. Ben said this year, Mr. Knight actually asked for leftovers, saying he planned to microwave the chittlins the next day. People who fork over $7 for a plate of chittlins enjoy music, a buck dancing contest and speeches from politicians - perhaps an attempt to distract people from what they're eating. The organizers are smart - they actually charge the political candidates a fee for speaking - $35 buys them three minutes to spread what used to be in the chittlins. The speech proceeds go to the band (wouldn't it be fitting to use that money to purchase wind instruments?) All told, this year's supper raised more than $5,000. I think poor Ben stood over the boiling pot too long. He told me, "I always taste the chittlins when I help cook. It is kind of hard to describe what they taste like. If they are fried crispy, they taste a little bit like pork skins. If they are fried soft, then they are just chewy." But a bit later, I think a little fresh air and time away from the boiling chittlin fumes helped him regain his senses. He said, "After I helped cook, I went home and did not attend the supper." I should mention that the word "chittlins" is a contraction of the word "chitterlings." The dictionary describes them as the small intestines of a swine, especially when prepared as food. And a quick check of the Internet actually produced a recipe for chitterlings. John Williams of Chicago says to wash 10 pounds of chitterlings in cold water, cut them into 2-inch pieces, soak them in cold salted water for a day in the refrigerator, cut away some of the fat, and then put them in a large pot covered with water. Add garlic, salt, pepper, thyme, clove, allspice, bay leaf, onion, red pepper pods, white vinegar and mace. (I think the mace is the kind you spray to disable yourself from continuing with the recipe.) Bring everything to a boil, cover and simmer for three or four hours, (I think he meant "weeks") stirring occasionally to prevent the stuff from sticking to (and ruining) the pot. Williams straightforwardly suggests serving them drizzled with vinegar, along with coleslaw, cornbread and spaghetti. * * * A post-script: a recent Wall Street Journal article tells of putting chittlins in their original forms to good use. It says Purdue University scientists have derived a material from hogs' small intestines that promotes healing in humans. It took the scientists well over a decade to develop the process, and they still don't know just how it works. But they've produced a parchment-like substance that promotes growth -- encouraging the body to replace the material with its own tissue. Two firms that helped underwrite the project's cost now hold marketing licenses. Chittlins may help corporal healing, but my mind isn't ready to deal with eating them. As I said in the beginning, there are some things you shouldn't put in your body... You may reach Jim Schuh at the Gazette, or by e-mail at jpschuh@excite.com.