Use Your Head

When we arrived at Wayne Jacob’s Smokehouse, tucked away in Old LaPlace, we were greeted by owner Jarred Zeringue and a disembodied, smoked hog’s head encircled by peppers, parsley, onions, garlic, and green onions. Although known for its andouille, Wayne Jacob’s offers a range of preservative-free smoked meats prepared in the old-world style—including hog’s head cheese. Recently my husband and I visited after hours for a behind-the-scenes demonstration on how to make the delicacy affectionately known around these parts as Cajun pâté, but not before learning more about the smokehouse’s history and how Zeringue became a part of it. 

Nolan “Nat” Jacob started the smokehouse in April 1950 as a seasonal operation, waiting until the weather turned cool to whip up his gumbos and jambalayas featuring his smoked meats. His son, Wayne, later took over the business and opened it year-round. Zeringue showed us black-and-white photos on his wall and then turned to look out the front window at an elderly man sitting on a front porch across the street. 

“That’s Mr. Nat’s sister’s son. He’s in his eighties and sells Creole tomatoes,” explained Zeringue. As if on cue, a truck pulled up, its bed brimming with the shiny red fruits. 

Zeringue, former owner and chef of two French Quarter restaurants—Eat on Dauphine Street and Vacherie in the Hotel St. Marie, bought Wayne Jacob’s in 2016 and continues to carry on the smokehouse’s time-honored traditions. 

“As a kid, I came in here with my grandma. I remember the fluorescent lights humming,” Zeringue gestured at the ceiling. His family, of French and German descent, has lived in the River Parishes for nearly three hundred years. “I grew up in Vacherie, and we did a boucherie every year with my family. All the aunts, uncles, cousins, and neighbors would gather at three in the morning. We’d kill the pig at daybreak, bleed it, and shave it.”

In his newly released cookbook, Southern and Smoked: Cajun Cooking Through the Seasons, Zeringue evokes the excitement of the annual boucherie, describing the expected family squabbles and the joy of an afternoon spent dancing to Cajun or zydeco music once the day’s work is completed. Because of how long it takes to cook, hog’s head cheese is always one of the first meats started at the boucherie and it enjoys a spot as one of the first recipes featured in the cookbook, slightly adapted for the average family kitchen.

Zeringue led us through to the kitchen, where andouille hung in rows to dry for the night. Wayne Jacob’s slogan is “Home of Andouille Smoked the Old-Fashioned Way,” and Zeringue explained they make two to three hundred pounds of andouille at a time. After it’s stuffed, the andouille is hung to dehydrate before being smoked for eight to twelve hours. Out back, Zeringue showed us the smokehouses, empty when we visited but still emanating delicious smokey smells. One house could hold up to two-hundred and fifty pounds of andouille. 

He then moved to a giant pot of water in a corner of the patio and began stirring. The secret to hog’s head cheese, Zeringue explained, is to start by boiling the head, shanks, skin, and bones for several hours. The process brings out the collagen in the meat and forms a rich stock that gelatinizes. As it boils, the aromatics—parsley, garlic, onions, and whites of the green onions—are added for flavor.

After the meat breaks down, it’s strained, ground, and placed back in the broth. At this point, cubed pork, raw or smoked, is added along with green onion tops, peppers, and parsley toward the end for color. The mixture is then poured into a forty-pound tub and left to set overnight in the refrigerator. Once it’s ready, the meat is cut and sold in one-pound, vacuum-sealed blocks. 

“We started selling the smoked version about four to five years ago, and we sell about two to three times as much of that as the regular kind,” said Zeringue. “At Christmas, we have tree-shaped versions. From Thanksgiving to Christmas, we sell as much as we can make.”

Zeringue sliced up a block for us to taste, offering it with crackers and his homemade hot sauce. He told us the meat, called “cheese” because of its consistency, is also good with creole mustard or as a topping over hot grits. As a new initiate into this particular culinary tradition, I was surprised to find the salty, fatty spread incredibly addictive; we couldn’t manage to stop snacking until half the block was gone.

As we ate, Zeringue explained that hog’s head cheese has been around since the Middle Ages: “From China to England, no matter where you are, you find that cultures have so many of the same items. You have to find something to eat, and it’s amazing that people arrived at the same items around the world. Hog’s head cheese was another form of preservation in using every piece of meat.”

As an institution founded on preserving the centuries-old culinary traditions of Louisiana’s early settlers—Wayne Jacob’s takes pride in its commitment to the traditional process, while many other butchers around the region have resorted to using commercial gelatin in their hog’s head cheese instead of an actual hog’s head. 

“Hog’s head cheese—more than any other Cajun product we make—is the embodiment of the ingenuity of [our ancestors],” said Zeringue. “To use every part of the animal is to appreciate the whole animal.” 

Find Zeringue’s cookbook Southern & Smoked at arcadiapublishing.com. Explore Wayne Jacob’s offerings at wjsmokehouse.com.