The Art of Confit, Mexican Style
In Michoacán, enormous copper cauldrons called cazos sit over wood fires, filled with lard and chunks of pork shoulder. This is carnitas country — where the technique predates European confit by centuries.
The pork braises in its own rendered fat until the meat is impossibly tender, then the heat is raised to crisp the edges. The result: meat that's simultaneously succulent and crispy, rich and light.
Carnitas means "little meats" — a humble name for something that makes grown men weep with joy. Every taquería in Mexico has their own secret: some add orange juice, others milk, some swear by Coca-Cola.
"The cazo knows. It has cooked ten thousand pigs. Trust the cazo."