Gimme a Pigfoot.

One of the most delicious, over-the-top, artery-clogging meals I ever had was at a little bistro in Champagne that was a favorite of the vineyard workers. It involved a pigfoot stuffed with foie gras, wrapped in thick slices of house-smoked bacon, then roasted to a perfect crispy goodness. It was comfort food of the highest order: incredibly tasty, but ridiculously rich. I could only eat about half of it, but the other patrons who had ordered it, including several svelte young women, were able to down the whole thing, then go on to the cheese course and dessert.

O., on the other hand, likes her pigfoot pickled. It's a fragrant, gelatinous memory of her childhood. Comfort food of the nostalgic sort.

Here's what isn't comfort food: Vietnamese pig's feet. The trotters are available at all the alleyway pork stands (of which there are dozens). They are charred on the outside and smell like burned hair. We've seen them for months, but only recently saw how they're prepared. Very simple: they are wrapped in newspaper, then set afire. This burns off the bristles and impregnates the meat with the toxic chemicals from the ink. The trotter is then ready for the soup pot. Not a high yum factor as far as I'm concerned. This is not a recipe we will be bringing home with us.

P.