Last week one of my favorite blogs reminded me of a particular problem I have with fat. Yes, I’m a fat hoarder. Apart from butter and lard, I usually have about three or four little containers of various animal fats stored in the back of the refrigerator, by-products of various meals and my inability to throw anything even remotely edible away. I don’t typically have the variety of Mark Smrecek’s exotic menagerie, but I do have some oddballs, like a green pipian-infused schmaltz I collected after making stock from a bird I’d cooked in mole verde. Not mold. Mole. One of the most luxurious fats I ever produced was a confit made from a Butcher & Larder pork collar.