May 20, 2015
When I moved into my flat on the Peckham/Dulwich borders three years ago, I noticed a funny little shop round the corner on Wood Vale. Named Libretto & Daughters, it wasn’t immediately obvious to me what it was all about.
A mish-mash of a window display, plus a couple of derelict New-York yellow cabs in the forecourt, it could have been as easily a junk shop as a car repair shop.
What it is, in fact, is a fantastic, proper old-school butcher. Run by Kim Libretto (not sure where the daughter is) for the last 30-odd years, it causes a fair amount of debate in the locality. Some people think, because it isn’t neatly set out like a supermarket meat section, it must be a bit dodgy.
Others – ie those who know their rump from their shoulder – love it. I am in firmly in the second camp.
Entering the shop, you won’t find much on display in the chill cabinets, bar a couple of trays of Kim’s excellent homemade sausages. That’s because everything is kept out back, in the form of whole carcasses, ready to be cut to order.
As Kim hauls out entire lambs, pigs or venison, and sets to work cutting chops, fillets and joints, to each customer’s exact request, he’ll chat away, giving advice on the perfect gravy, which cut is best for the barbecue, and where exactly and by whom your venison was shot.
This, as you can imagine, takes time. Which is why you’ll often see a slow-moving queue in the shop. But Kim’s loyal customers love him for it, and it’s all part of the enjoyment of buying from him.
Last weekend, I went in for a joint of pork. I was thinking belly, for a long slow roast, with lots of lovely crispy crackling. When I asked him for this, Kim raised a finger and silently went out to the back room. He came back with an immaculately boned and prepared shoulder of pork.
It had been hung, he told me, so the skin was good and dry, making for perfect crackling. And the meat itself was so juicy and tender, there was no need for the three or four hours a pork shoulder often needs. Kim advised an hour and a half. And, as usual, Kim was right.
To flavour the pork, I bashed a few fennels seeds, mixed them with some orange zest and thyme, then smeared that over the skin with some salt and pepper and olive oil. I sliced up the rest of the orange, placed it in a baking tray with a couple of bay leaves and a few cloves of garlic, then plonked the pork on top.
A blast at the highest temperature in the oven for 20 minutes ensured the crackling would, well, crackle, then another hour and 15 minutes at a lower temperature resulted in a juicy, tender roast, full of good porky flavours. I chucked in a sliced leek for the last 20 minutes, which braised in the fat and juice of the pork. Some braised fennel and carrots and some creamy mashed potatoes finished off the Sunday treat.