Last week we talked about tallow — the beef fat that was declared a villain, replaced by inferior products, and is now making its comeback. This week we’re covering its pork equivalent, which has an almost identical story and a few important differences worth knowing. Lard was the standard cooking fat in most of the world for centuries. It was in every kitchen, every bakery, every restaurant. Then saturated fat became the enemy, Crisco arrived, and lard was gone within a generation. If you grew up in a household that stopped using it, you inherited a decision that was made for you before you could make it yourself.
What Lard Actually Is
Lard is rendered pork fat — the same basic process as tallow, but starting with pig fat instead of beef fat. The raw fat is heated slowly until it melts, the impurities and protein solids separate out, and what remains is a clean, semi-solid white fat that’s been used in cooking for as long as humans have kept pigs. Where it comes from on the animal matters. Leaf lard — the fat surrounding the pig’s kidneys — is the highest grade, nearly flavorless, and produces the most neutral cooking fat. Backfat lard, from the subcutaneous fat along the pig’s back, has a slightly more pronounced pork flavor. The industrially produced lard sold in most supermarkets is typically rendered from a mixture of fat sources throughout the animal, which is why it tastes more porky and less refined than leaf lard from a good butcher.
How It Compares to Tallow
Lard and tallow are similar animals — literally and figuratively. Both are rendered animal fats with high smoke points, good heat stability, and a history of being unfairly displaced by inferior products. The main differences are in flavor and composition. Tallow has a distinctly beefy flavor that makes it ideal for beef-centric cooks. Lard is more neutral — particularly leaf lard — which makes it more versatile across different types of cooking. Tallow’s smoke point sits around 400-420°F. Lard’s is slightly lower, around 370°F for well-rendered versions, which is still higher than butter and competitive with most refined vegetable oils. For frying, tallow has the edge in heat headroom. For baking and applications where you don’t want a pronounced animal flavor, lard wins by a significant margin.
The Baking Secret That Never Went Away
Professional bakers who work with traditional recipes have always known something that the vegetable shortening era tried to bury: lard makes better pastry than almost anything else. The reason is in the fat’s crystal structure. Lard forms beta-prime crystals — small, uniform fat crystals that coat flour proteins more evenly and thoroughly than butter or vegetable shortening. The result is a pie crust that’s simultaneously flakier and more tender than what butter or Crisco produces, with a texture that’s difficult to replicate with any other fat. Many of the most celebrated pie crusts, biscuits, and tamale doughs in American and Latin American cooking are built around lard, and the cooks who make them have no interest in substituting it out. The product is simply better.
What Happened to It — The Same Story as Tallow
Two things killed lard’s mainstream presence: the low-fat movement of the 1960s and 70s, and the rise of Crisco and other hydrogenated vegetable shortenings that were marketed as modern, clean, and scientific alternatives to old-fashioned animal fat. Procter & Gamble, which produced Crisco, ran decades of advertising positioning vegetable shortening as the healthy, progressive choice. The irony — which we covered in detail in the butter and margarine blog — is that hydrogenated vegetable shortening was packed with trans fats that turned out to be dramatically worse for cardiovascular health than the lard they were replacing. A natural fat was pushed out by a manufactured one that caused real harm. The corrections came slowly, and lard is still fighting the reputation damage from a campaign that was never scientifically honest to begin with.
Where It Belongs at the Grill
For BBQ and grilling, lard has a specific and useful role — particularly with pork. Basting a pork shoulder with lard during a long smoke adds moisture and richness without competing with the flavor of the meat the way a beef-based fat might. Injection marinades for competition pork often include lard for the same reason. It also works well for seasoning cast iron, for greasing grill grates before a cook, and for any application where you want a neutral, heat-stable fat that won’t add off-flavors. It’s not the star of the show the way butter or tallow can be — but in the supporting role, it’s reliable and it belongs there.
What to Look For and How to Store It
The lard in most supermarkets is industrially rendered, often hydrogenated to extend shelf life, and significantly less impressive than what you’d get from a butcher or a farmers market. If you want to experience lard the way it was actually used in traditional cooking, seek out leaf lard from a butcher who works with heritage-breed pigs — the flavor difference is notable. Store it the same way as tallow and ghee: in a sealed container, away from light and heat. Unhydrogenated lard keeps for several months at room temperature and up to a year refrigerated. If it smells rancid, it’s past its prime — but given its high saturated fat content, it’s fairly resistant to oxidation compared to polyunsaturated oils.
Final Thoughts
Lard, tallow, butter, ghee — we’ve now covered the full series of cooking fats that built traditional cuisines around the world and were systematically replaced by industrially processed alternatives that turned out to be worse in almost every meaningful way. Each one has a specific role. Each one was unfairly maligned. And each one is worth understanding on its own terms rather than through the lens of fifty years of nutrition marketing that didn’t age well. Cook with the fat that fits the job. For pork, pastry, and neutral high-heat applications, lard fits the job.
Your great-grandmother’s pie crust was better than yours. Now you know why.
Happy grilling,
The Harder Charcoal Team