Testa in Cassetta

Testa in cassetta works on a single piece of kitchen physics: a pig's head is full of collagen, and collagen simmered long enough turns into gelatine. Cool it under a weight and that gelatine does the job a casing does in every other cured meat.

The raw material is the muscular parts of the head (cheek, snout, tongue, ears, rind) with heart or shoulder meat added in some recipes to raise the lean content. Everything is boiled, boned while still too hot to handle comfortably, cut into coarse pieces, seasoned and packed into the box.

The box is the point, and the name. Cassetta means a rectangular wooden crate, lined, into which the warm mixture is pressed under a lid and a weight. That gives the finished block its brick shape, which is the fastest way to tell the Piedmontese and Ligurian version apart from the cylindrical head products of central and southern Italy, which are stuffed into casings.

It is peasant food in the literal sense. It uses the part of the animal nobody wanted and which, without a preserving technique, would have been lost within a day or two: the head is the most perishable part of the pig, which is why it was always the first thing dealt with after slaughter.

Rich, gelatinous and heavily spiced, with a texture unlike any other cold cut. The meat pieces are soft and yielding, the rind is faintly springy, and the gelatine between them melts at mouth temperature rather than staying rubbery.

The flavour is pork at its most concentrated, nothing like ham and closer to the meat you pull off a slow-roasted shoulder, pushed forward by nutmeg, black pepper, cinnamon and clove. Ligurian versions add coriander, allspice and citrus zest, which lifts the whole thing considerably and stops the fat feeling heavy.

Where pistachios are included they add a sweet, resinous crunch and the green-on-pink contrast that makes these slices recognisable across a counter. Eaten cold with something acidic (pickles, mustard, salsa verde) it is one of the best-value things on any Italian deli counter. Eaten alone, straight from the fridge, it can feel unrelieved.

Slice it thick: three to five millimetres. Cut paper-thin it falls apart, because the gelatine cannot hold a fine slice together. Take it out of the fridge twenty minutes before serving: cold gelatine is rubbery and mutes everything.

In Piedmont it is a fixture of the merenda sinoira, the late-afternoon cold spread that replaces dinner in the Langhe, alongside cooked salami, tongue and cheese. It is served with salsa verde (parsley, anchovy, garlic, breadcrumb and vinegar) or with the red bagnetto, plus pickled vegetables or giardiniera. The bread is plain, and should be.

In Liguria it turns up with focaccia and preserved vegetables, and in Genoa's old fry-shops it sits next to the chickpea farinata. A roll with testa in cassetta, mustard and gherkins is one of the best cheap sandwiches in northern Italy.

It also takes heat well, which surprises people. A minute a side in a dry non-stick pan gives you crisp edges and a molten centre: serve it over polenta or in a warm roll. Unorthodox, but common enough in Langhe osterie.

Testa in cassetta is a cooked product rather than a dried or cured one, and its life is measured in days, not months. Keep the piece at 0 to 4 C wrapped in greaseproof paper inside a box, and follow the date the butcher or the pack gives, since that is the maker's figure. A whole block holds better than slices: cut faces dry, the surface darkens and takes on a matte grey cast where the jelly retreats, and the mosaic begins to loosen at the edges. Ask for it sliced on the day you want it rather than in advance.

The jelly is what makes it temperature-sensitive. It is firm at fridge temperature and softens as soon as it warms, so the block cuts cleanly straight from the cold and a slice left on a warm board goes glossy and starts to weep within twenty minutes. That argues for slicing to order and bringing it out at the last moment. Freezing works against it in the same way: the gelatine breaks on thawing, water separates into the wrapper, and the block no longer holds together under a knife.

The English word for the family is head cheese, and saying it to a butcher will get you closer than the Italian will. What marks this one out is the mould: cassetta means crate, so the finished piece is a rectangular block and the slices come out square, not round. Look at the cut face. It should be a coarse mosaic of irregular pale and pink pieces, cheek, snout, tongue and rind, set in a translucent amber jelly, with visible flecks of pepper and warm spice, and in some versions pistachios or pine nuts. The jelly is the pig's own, not added gelatine.

Two things get muddled with it abroad. German Presskopf and Sulze, Austrian brawn and American souse belong to the same family, though souse is soured with vinegar and tastes quite different. The other confusion is with coppa: coppa di testa is this, while Coppa Piacentina and the coppa on a deli slicer are a cured neck muscle, uniform and dark red. Mortadella is a smooth pink emulsion, not a mosaic. This is a butcher's product sold by weight and it is inexpensive.

In Italy, butchers and delis across the province of Cuneo and the Savona hinterland make their own, and it is on almost every deli counter in Piedmont and Liguria at 12 to 20 euro per kilo. Artisan versions with pistachios and a complex spice mix run 18 to 26.

Outside Italy it is almost absent from commercial channels: it is cooked, perishable and has a short shelf life, which makes exporting it uneconomic. When you do find it, expect 9 to 15 dollars per pound in the US and 16 to 26 pounds per kilo in the UK: prices that reflect shipping far more than the value of the product.

The realistic route abroad is a local charcutier or butcher who makes brawn or head cheese, and there are more of them than there were ten years ago. Ask for it pressed firmly and lightly jellied; if the slice wobbles, it has been stretched with stock.

Southern Piedmont: Ceva, Mondovì, the villages of the Bormida valley and the Alta Langa, where butchers still make it in-house and osterie put it into the merenda sinoira. The weekly markets at Mondovì and Ceva are the most direct place to buy it freshly pressed.

In Liguria, the Savona hinterland (Calizzano, Sassello, Bardineto) and Genoa itself, where historic delicatessens and the old sciamadde fry-shops carry it year round. Along the coast, bakeries sell it folded into focaccia.

Go in winter. November to February is the traditional pig-butchering season, and testa in cassetta made in those months and eaten within days of pressing is a noticeably better product than the same thing in midsummer. Village festivals across both valleys serve it then.