It’s a truism among foodies that pork isn’t what it used to be. Today’s pork, the thinking goes, is lean and flavorless, a far cry from the rich, fattier pork of yesteryear. These people say the pork industry has become so obsessed with producing lean hogs that it’s forgotten about what makes pork – or any food – special in the first place: the flavor.

Many food writers, myself included, have parroted this party line in recent years. But most of these writers – again, myself included – aren’t old enough to have tasted old-style pork, so the party line is based more on accepted wisdom than personal experience. Is it really true? I decided to find out.

First, here’s some background. Back in the 1970s and 1980s, a series of health studies led American consumers to start worrying about fat and cholesterol. Sales of chicken soared, throwing a scare into the beef industry and, especially, the pork industry. Pigs and pork had long been associated with fat and waste (to this day, politicians rail against spending bills that are “full of pork”), and it was decided that this needed to change.

So the National Pork Board came up with the now-(in)famous slogan referring to pork as “The Other White Meat,” which was intended to position pork as a direct market competitor to chicken. This period also saw the rise of firms specializing in hog genetics, such as the Kentucky-based Pig Improvement Company, or PIC (a maddeningly unsatisfying acronym – why couldn’t they have called themselves the Pig Improvement Group?), which provides breeding stock and semen designed to produce leaner, less fatty hogs.

Having attended the World Pork Expo a few years back, I can confirm that the swine industry is positively obsessed with fat content. Breeders and bioengineering firms tout their hogs’ back fat percentage and fat-to-muscle ratios. Farmers talk in glowing terms about today’s streamlined pigs, while sneering at the obese hogs of yore.

The thing is, fat is flavor – that’s why chicken thighs taste better than chicken breasts, and why a well-marbled steak tastes better than an unmarbled one. Fat also makes food juicy. Today’s pork is so lean that it’s given rise to a new prep technique – brining, in which the meat is soaked in a salt-and-sugar bath before cooking – that would have been unthinkable a generation ago. Brining definitely helps in terms of flavor and moistness, but it takes time (at least eight hours, in most cases) and has always struck me as a symptom of a greater problem. I mean, really good meat shouldn’t require such extreme measures, right?

In reaction to all of this, there’s now a small network of producers specializing in heritage-breed pork. Much like heirloom tomatoes, these are older, pre-bioengineering breeds – such as Large Black, Gloucester Old Spots, Berkshire, Duroc, and Chester White – that have fallen out of fashion, in large part due to their fat content. This, supposedly, is pork as it used to be.

But there’s more to consider here than just flavor, because heritage breeds are generally raised by small family farmers who tend to use organic or environmentally sustainable methods that stand in stark contrast to the modern agribusiness industry. Moreover, if there’s no more demand for farmers to raise these heritage breeds, many of them may soon become extinct (a fate that has already befallen six of the 15 hog breeds raised in America in the 1930s). In short, in order to save them, we must eat them. It’s the very definition of a delicious irony.

In order to compare heritage breeds to conventional pork, and against each other, I procured heritage pork chops from a variety of sources. I stuck to 10-ounce bone-in chops, so I’d be comparing apples to apples. And since heritage pork is supposed to be plenty juicy and flavorful on its own, I prepared and cooked those chops very simply: No brining (although I did brine the supermarket chops that I used as a baseline), no dry rubs or heavy seasonings, just a little salt and pepper beforehand, and then a quick pan-fry in olive oil.

A few final points: Like most specialty food products, heritage pork costs more than supermarket fare. It’s often a bit darker, and the extra fat is very visible, so you may also have to adjust your visual expectations. And keep in mind that no pork, no matter how wonderful, will taste good if you cook it to 165 degrees, as your mother probably did (and too many restaurants continue to do). Keep in mind that the parasite that causes trichinosis is killed at 137 degrees, and that the internal temperature of pork, like all meats, will continue to rise at least 5 degrees after you remove it from the stove or oven. You’re looking for a rosy pink, not a chicken-like white.

Okay, enough preliminaries. The good news is that all the heritage pork I tried was better than supermarket pork, even when the latter had been brined. Here were my findings, broken down by vendor:

Flying Pigs (518-854-3844, www.flyingpigsfarm.com; $11 a pound, plus about $20 for shipping, depending on order size): This small upstate farm has a booth each Friday at the Union Square farmers’ market and each Saturday at Grand Army Plaza in Brooklyn, so you can avoid shipping charges. But at any price, their pork is top-notch. They specialize in three breeds, the best of which is the Large Black- chops from this breed were consistently superb, with chops from the Gloucestershire Old Spot close behind. Don’t be put off by the large pockets of fat – the meat is sweet, complex, and superflavorful. Highly recommended.

Lobel’s (1096 Madison Ave.; 877-783-4512, www.lobels.com; $18 a pound, plus $26 shipping): Lobel’s – easily the best butcher shop in New York – is one of several purveyors of the Berkshire breed, although the shop refers to it by its Japanese name, Kurobuta. It has fewer large pockets of fat than the Flying Pigs breeds but seems to have more tiny fat nodules sprinkled throughout the loin. Although I also obtained Berkshire chops from Berkshire Meats, Inc. (507-256-7231; www.berkshiremeats.com; $10 a pound plus $20 shipping), the ones from Lobel’s were superior. In fact, the Lobel’s chops led one of my tasting assistants to exclaim – accurately, I’d say – “This is more like a steak than a pork chop!”

Niman Ranch (866-808-0340, www.nimanranch.com; $17.60 a pound plus $15 shipping): Niman Ranch, which started as a small cattle ranch, has now grown into a network of more than 300 farms and has become the pre-eminent brand for premium pork. Their pork, which can be found in many high-end markets, including Whole Foods, comes from Berkshires, Durocs, and Chester Whites, but there’s no way to specify a particular breed when ordering, or to find out which breed was used to fill your order. In any case, while I’ve had spectacular results with Niman Ranch steaks, I found their pork chops to be merely adequate – better than supermarket pork, yes, but definitely lacking the “Ahhh!” factor of the other chops I tried for this article.

Heritage Foods USA (212-980-6603, www.heritagefoodsusa.com): Heritage Foods USA is sort of a clearinghouse organization that promotes the consumption of rare-breed foods – not just pork, but also lamb, bison, poultry, seafood, and grains. (Ask for a copy of their catalog, which provides a good overview of the heritage foods movement.) Their pork offerings include most of the breeds I’ve already mentioned and several others as well, but you have to order a minimum of 35 pounds – that’s a quarter-hog – for $330. That’s obviously a larger commitment than most people will want to make, but I convinced them to let me try a few chops from the Red Wattle breed. It was unlike any of the other pork I tried – very mild, but exceedingly tender.

So is heritage pork worth the premium price? For the most part, I’d say yes, especially if you can buy it locally and skip the shipping charges. I’ll definitely be buying from Flying Pigs again, and I’ll add some pork chops to my next splurge at Lobel’s. In any case, the next time I hear someone say that today’s pork isn’t what it used to be, I’ll be able to say, “That’s true – but you can still get old-style pork today.”