During the chaos of packaging and delivering Christmas hams last week we received a box in the mail from Fran in Corinda, Queensland.

She knits animal tea cosies for charity and recently designed one for the Wessex Saddleback. When she saw us in December's edition of Country Style she couldn't resist posting one to us - teapot and all.

She wrote, "Treat it as fun, or treat it as kitsch, I hope you enjoy it!"

And doesn't it go well with Guy's new Christmas mug?

Thank you Fran!

Bringing the country to the city - agricultural shows

The Devonport Show's on this weekend, and this year there's a real focus on bringing the show back to its roots - agriculture.

In an effort to get more kids through the animal nursery, the coordinator got school classes from the local area to adopt an animal from the nursery and create artwork and projects about it.

The grade 3/4s from Devonport Primary adopted the Wessex Saddleback and have been investigating rare breeds and the idea of having to eat bacon to save their bacon (some struggled with this idea!).

Guy and I visited the school with a couple of piglets and a bottle of milk to round-off their studies.

Here's the beautiful work they came up with:

Milking in motion

Watching a sow feeding her piglets is mesmerising. It’s a show of sound and movement, of chaos and rhythm. And it shows that, in this case, milk is life.

When a sow wants to feed her piglets she calls them with a low, repetitious grunt. If she’s near other sows they’ll all start grunting too. In the wild this collective grunting makes sure that all piglets in the area can get a feed, even if it’s not from their own mum.

The sow doesn’t let her milk flow till she’s relaxed, and you’ll see a change in the piglets’ behaviour – suddenly they’ll stop bashing her boobs and just settle in for the feed.

These piglets are just a couple of days old and are still getting the hang of who goes where in the drinking line-up. In another couple of days they’ll have their own teats, a bit like having a coffee mug with your name on it.

Our piglets spend their first week in a straw-filled stable, with access to a heat lamp to snuggle under. Tasmanian nights are pretty chilly, and we believe this is the most humane way to bring them in to the world.

Generally the biggest and strongest piglets get the sow’s front teats which produce the most milk, and the smaller ones get the back teats. That’s why the runt is always the runt (except occasionally when they’ve got a touch of Small Piglet Syndrome and they defy nature and take over a front teat).

We let our piglets feed from their mothers for six weeks, and then we wean them. That’s about twice the time of pigs reared in intensive systems, and it ensures their immune systems are well-developed. And milk’s free, too.

Rationing the rillettes

There's a jar in my fridge that I gaze longingly at every time I open the door. It's packed with slow-cooked soft pork, salt and pepper, and the flavours of rosemary, thyme and garlic. Seams of pork fat fill the spaces between the pork.

I have surprisingly good self-control when it comes to food, and I've been spreading this batch of pork rillettes out for weeks. Also, because it takes about three kilos of pork belly to get three tiny little jars. But it is one of the most delicious pork dishes I've eaten.

My recipe is a combination of ideas from Maggie Beer, Matthew Evans and Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. Their rillettes also include rabbits and ducks, but we don't have rabbits at our place (except for one massive pet buck, who is not going in to a jar) and I'd have to use about 10 Indian Runner ducks to get enough meat off them. But we have easy access to pork.

Take a pork belly - a whole one will weigh about 3kg - and cut it in to good-sized chunks, a bit like toast soldiers. I've tried two different cooking techniques: firstly in the oven at about 120 degrees. This batch had little crunchy bits through it, and a bit more of a crackling flavour. Secondly, I've used a slow-cooker. No crunchy bits, but a much smoother texture.

Choose which method you'd prefer, and whether you want to clean your oven or wash up a cooker. Chop up a couple of cloves of garlic and some rosemary and thyme sprigs and put them in with the pork.

The idea is to cook the pork for so long that the fat melts and the pork falls apart when you touch it. In the oven that's about four hours. In the slow-cooker I kept it going for ten.

When it's falling apart drain off the fat (keep it!) and let the meat cool a little so you don't burn your fingers - or mouth. You now need to break the pork apart so the bits are small enough to be spread on biscuits or bread. You can use two forks, or, as I prefer, my fingers.

Break it all up and then add as much salt and pepper as you think necessary. You'll probably need more than you think. I squelch this in with my hands too.

Sterilise some jars (150 degrees for 15 mins) and pack them with the pork mix. Pour some of the reserved fat over the top and make sure it seeps into the cracks.

My favourite way of eating rillettes is with cracked pepper Savoy biscuits, but crusty bread or toast is pretty good too.

A time for ham

When you look through our lounge window there are pigs as far as the eye can see.

But come Christmas that view will change.

It’s such a busy time of year! So first we must apologise for lack of blogs. We’ve been planting trees, fencing more pig paddocks, digging up the winter pens ready for turnips, planting berries, sowing veggie seed, and most importantly organising the Christmas hams.

We’ve been looking at the pigs trying to work out how to take the legs off while leaving the bellies and loins to run around a bit longer.

We haven’t found a way of amputating legs that meets our animal welfare standards.

So because of that, as well as hams we’ll have some extra fresh cuts available closer to Christmas – maybe a free range roast would suit the table?

We’re doing about 200 hams this year, in two sizes: whole back legs on the bone and small banjo or picnic hams from the lower end of the front leg.

We’ve also been busy sorting out packaging for our bacon. It looks a bit different to what you see in the supermarket, it’s from the rolled shoulder.

We’re also trying out streaky bacon from the belly for those who like a little extra richness. You'll start to see it in delis soon.

We’re taking orders now for Christmas fare. If you’d like to know more you can send us an email. We’ll let you know when we’re sold out.

P.S. We've had a major computer crash too, to add to the excitement. If you were on our distribution list, or would like to be, please send us a note.