Whole Hog: Chef brings craft back to butchery

The first thing chefs learn at The Rock Barn is to respect their ingredients.

"Just because that animal is dead doesn’t mean you can mess with it," says owner and Culinary Institute of America grad Benjamin Thompson. "That’s an animal that died to give you that."

The Nelson County catering company/custom butchery outfit specializes in one animal in particular (in case you haven’t already guessed): Pigs.

"You can only do so much with ground beef," says Thompson. "I can tell you 100 different sausages that are pork-driven."

To him, butchery is an art form and a reminder that "food doesn’t come plastic-wrapped."

"We’ve taken all of the culture out of it," he says. "A pig is a really magnificent animal. Wherever you go (in the world), they do something with it. We bring the craft back into it."

"I’ve always been into going back to the source and knowing more," he adds. "As a chef, there’s that natural curiosity."

It’s all part of The Rock Barn’s snout-to-tail promise, which isn’t as simple as throwing a bunch of leftover parts into one product.

"The perception," Thompson says, "is that (we) put all that stuff in hot dogs."

Instead, he and his staff of five focus on ways to use all parts of the animal. Think Andouille sausage, which traces it origins to France (where it’s made using the pig’s intestines and stomach) but got spicier when it hit New Orleans (where it’s a mix of pork butt, shank and fat); porchetta, an Italian specialty of slow roasting an entire pig; ham hocks, which are used in many German dishes; and chorizo, which has many different forms, depending on if you’re in Spain, Mexico or the Caribbean.

Thompson even goes so far as to make sure the pigs’ bones are sold and are being used, he says.

"In a lot of places in the world, it’s normal (to use everything)," he says. "Here, it’s inventive."

And the Rock Barn’s hot dog? Spoiler alert: It’s actually made of a lean beef.  

***

For most of the week, it’s all about the pigs, which come in already slaughtered on Mondays.

Tuesdays and Wednesdays are spent smoking the meats and making sausages, which they sell to local restaurants, at the Nellysford Farmer’s Market every Saturday and through Rock Barn’s porkshare program, which Thompson says is similar to a food co-op or CSA.

Each porkshare weighs between 8 and 10 pounds, with one pig providing enough meat for eight customers (see below for more).

"I like the idea of working up a half a pig for somebody," he says. "It offers more flexibility."

The latter part of the week is devoted to their next catering gig; Thompson says they only do one or two a weekend because of their restaurant-driven approach.

"We roll in pretty heavily, with equipment. We basically run a mobile restaurant. That way, we can tie in things that are important to the client." 

***

The tale of Thompson’s culinary journey varies, depending on whom you ask.

"The story my mother would tell you is (that) when I was 5, I was complaining about what she was making for dinner, and she said, ‘Get up and make yourself some eggs.’"

But Thompson, who was born in Sweden and grew up in Colorado, would tell a different story: One that begins with a job working for a French chef in Colorado, where he realized how passionate he was about food.

In 2000, Thompson joined the Navy to get money for culinary school and spent five years traveling the world and cooking on a submarine.

To say it expanded his palate is an understatement; suddenly, he was exposed to a world of cuisines, from the Mediterranean all the way to the North Pole (the former was a favorite, the latter not so much: "The food at the North Pole was pretty boring.").

Thompson says he also learned the importance of sitting down and sharing a meal with other people.

"You take it for granted," he says. "On the sub, the only source of relaxation happened on the mess decks."

He eventually left the Navy and enrolled at the Culinary Institute of America. Jobs at well-known chef Thomas Keller’s Per Se, in Manhattan, and The French Laundry, in California, followed.

It was demanding, but life-changing, work: "It was just pure technique," Thompson says. "Thomas designed it so chefs could be exactly what they’re supposed to be."

Thompson married in 2006 and moved to Nelson County because his wife has family there.

"(It) seemed like the kind of place you could get in and grow," he says. "We like the climate the geography, the history. There’s a food history here."

He opened The Rock Barn in 2009, wanting to create a similar atmosphere to the kitchens he’d worked in under Keller.

"The idea is to have a company that is really driven by the chefs and their passions," he says.

"Doing the same menu every day would be boring to me."