You’ll never believe what you can do with a pork scratching. TIM HUGHES discovers why this once-humble snack is now a global delicacy to the stars.

THE French Canadians call them Oreilles de Christ – the Ears of Christ; the Dutch go mad for knabbelspek and in Latin America they can’t get enough chicharrones.

To the Chinese they are credited with miraculous medicinal qualities, while in Honduras families tuck into them on the beach beneath the palm trees.

We know them, of course, as the humble pork scratching, and, it seems, they are a global delicacy – everywhere but here.

The ubiquitous scratching has a less than glamorous image in the UK, associated with a particular type of pub – dingy, drab and frequented by flatcapped gentlemen of a certain age. But all that is set to change; if the scratching-meisters have their way.

Tired of seeing their finely-crafted produce written off as an unhealthy bar nibble, they have set out to reclaim its reputation… by going gourmet.

Intrigued by how anyone could turn a deep fried strip of rind into a culinary treat I set off on a voyage of discovery around the pubs of Oxford with Midlands scratching maker Graham Jebb, and ale expert Nicky Dodwell from Brakspear – brewed at Witney’s Wychwood Brewery.

“The heartland of the pork scratching is still the West Midlands and North,” says Graham, whose company Ray Gray Snacks is at the vanguard of remarketing the scratching as a gastro-delight. “But we want to show people here that they are a great traditional snack which go well with real British food and drink.”

We are sitting upstairs in the Chequers, the cosy pub tucked away off High Street. And, determined to prove him right, Nicky has laid out tasters of her brewery’s finest wares – Brakspear Oxford Gold and the brewery’s staple Brakspear Bitter.

Both are perfect accompaniments Nicky assures me. And she should know.

My fellow scratching muncher, foodie Julie Carolan, pictured, is a scratching convert – perhaps surprisingly for a young professional woman in her 20s, I suggest.

But, she informs me, she is in good company. Crackling is the snack du jour in the smarter bars of London and New York, enjoyed by the likes of Beyoncé Knowles and Kate Moss. Oh, and Pub Landlord Al Murray and presenter Chris Evans are also fans – but then that’s less of a surprise.

Indeed, scratchings are on the menu at such high-end capital haunts as Mark Hix’s Oyster & Chop House and Tomasina Myers’ Wahaca.

As we settle into another expertly chosen round of drinks – this time Marston’s Pedigree and Jennings Cumberland Ale , Graham reveals his foil-wrapped secret weapon.

“It’s a tray of pork scratchings served with an apple sauce dip,” he says proudly. “People really like it and they are being stocked by more and more gastro-pubs.”

Just don’t call them scratchings though. “This is crackling!” he grins. “It sounds better – but it tastes as good.”

And they are good. Crunchy without being tooth-breakers, they are possessed of an even texture, lovely golden colour and are meaty and flavoursome without being overly salty. And there is not a bristle in sight.

“Scratchings are misunderstood, he tells me. “They are protein rich, handmade in small batches and, like most things, are healthy if eaten in moderation. They are a lot healthier than many snacks.”

It’s an education. Did you know, for example, that scratchings are only made from the rind of the pigs’ shanks above the ankle? This means just two strips no more than 75mm long, and 18mm wide, are used. Nothing else.

Another pub to have rediscovered the crackling is the Crown, off Cornmarket, where we settle down for pork scratchings with gooseberry jam. The combination of salty crackling and sweet preserve is inspired – the fruit providing the perfect counter balance to the dry, crunchy pork.

It’s a crunchy old starter, and the perfect warm-up to the main course – a rustically crumbled pork scratching-topped fish pie. Okay, I know it sounds odd, but it’s not only delicious – it’s also fun – with a crunch which turned heads.

And the best accompanying beer? Nicky recommended more Pedigree, which is always good in my book, and a Duvel.

If you thought the concept of a pork scratching starter was odd and a crackling-based main course bizarre, then the desert must go down as one of the strangest combinations ever: chocolate-dipped pork scratchings with ice-cream, top.

Naturally, it’s way better than it sounds, presenting an exciting juxtaposition of sweet, salt and bitter – but even the hardiest Black Country scratching tycoon would have to concede dark-choc coated double-cooked and salted rind is an acquired taste.

It did, however, go well with Nicky’s final recommendations – a Brakspear Triple and Meantime Chocolate Beer.

As a meal, it was delicious… but Graham’s warning of ‘everything in moderation’ haunted me on my way home, as I woke later from a fitful sleep in the small hours, lavishly perspiring, and haunted by images of grinning pigs and frying vats of rind.

I was suffering from a phenomenon known to aficionados as scratching sweats – a variation on the meat sweats known to afflict those who have overindulged in large slabs of steak. I had overdosed, but it was worth it. And, boy, did those scratchings taste good…