T
HE LOCAL FARM-RAISED PIG WAS UNAWARE that this balmy morning in the heart of the Acadian Prairie would be his last. Just late enough to heighten anticipation, he arrived like a porcine politician, entourage and all, in a livestock trailer. The local kids, about a dozen, clambered aboard to get a glimpse of the momentary celebrity, a bright-eyed clean furred pig with a disarming smile. The grown-ups, predominantly locals who have known one another since elementary school, were eager. The prep team, consisting of local butchers from the esteemed Eunice Superette and Slaughterhouse, gathered for a brief consultation. After a moment of silence, an invocation, and a group recital of the Lord’s Prayer, the pig’s life ended with a single expertly placed gunshot. He was still to be the star of the show. There would be boudin. The pig’s presence at the boucherie is a debt owed to the not so recent past. Boucherie is a phenomenon unique to Cajun country and is as distinct a cultural artifice as can be found in the United States. In a climate ill-suited for food preservation, in a culture with a taste for pork, in a time a when refrigeration was hard to come by the boucherie was a necessity. Cooking with fresh pork can result in grand cuisine yet it often yields plentiful scraps; something traditionally lower-income families could ill afford. Consuming the whole hog, preventing any waste, was a team effort and an absolute necessity in Acadiana.
Traditionally, the boucherie was a festive community affair, no different from this day’s fête. An entire neighborhood or group of families would come together to share in the cooking. The hosting, and pig providing would rotate throughout the year — as often as weekly — ensuring a steady supply of food. As much as the eating is a team effort, so too is the cooking. A boucherie needs teamwork as much as it needs a pig; the climate requires it. Cool mornings turn into balmy afternoons quickly on the Acadian prairie. As Andy Thibodeaux of the Eunice Superette laconically points out, “pork sours quick in the heat.” Speed is of the essence and all the stations work at the same time. A boucherie is nothing if not a flurry of activity. Host Lance Pitre, the genial and articulate owner of Eunice’s storied Lakeview RV Park, Andy Thibodeaux and Dave Fontenot, both third generation butchers, began a dance choreographed from the generation before and before. As helpers and onlookers nibbled on egg sandwiches and sipped paper-cupped coffee, a small band struck up playing Cajun music. Jet engine like noise from multiple propane burners lit to boil water fought against the melody. The morning chill lifted and coats came off. Sequestered inside a barn-cum-dance hall that hosted more than one Grammy winner was Carl Pitre monitoring a roux that would be the base for backbone stew.