Pig roast!
I went to a pig roast yesterday!
My cousin Lyne and her husband Joe invited us out to their house in upstate New York, because Joe had decided that he wanted to have a pig roast. since both Wiley and I are fans of all things meaty and delicious, we packed ourselves into the car bright and early to make the drive out there.
This was a first for me - all the OTHER times I’ve eaten from a whole roasted pig (now, how many other people do you know who need two hands to count the number of times they’ve done that, if they don’t live in Hawaii?) - it’s been roasted either in an oven or on a spit over an open fire. Joe had decided he wanted to cook in a covered pit instead. We got there, and there was a huge pile of dirt in their yard, with a smooth patch of dirt behind it - the resting place of our dinner.
We chatted and caught up, had some coffee and prepped some other food, but every little while, the conversation would stop, we’d stare out into the yard and we’d talk about the pig. “Do you think the fire is still going?” “How are we going to know if it’s done?” “Eeeeeew, I can’t eat that!” (that was mostly from Lyne). There seemed to be a general agreement that it was somehow unfitting to actually go look the pig in the face, and there were a number of guests who thought they might not even be willing to try a taste! My suggestion was that they should just have someone bring them a plate - then it wouldn’t be any different than a pork chop. Most of them looked at me like they thought I was crazy.
To be fair, I was a little squicked at the thought of having to actually see the pig. That was not going to stop me from eating it, but I wasn’t sure I was going to go examine my dinner up close and personal. That said, I have long argued that if you can’t acknowledge what you’re doing when you eat meat, you probably shouldn’t be eating it. It left a little like a test of my mettle - one I wasn’t totally sure I could pass.
That went on for a few hours, until finally it was time to dig in and get our dinner.
Joe and two of his friends working to get the pig out of the ground
The guys started digging, while the rest of us stood by, watching and offering helpful commentary. It didn’t take that long before they had it out. We left it on the grass to rest for a few minutes and then they hauled it onto the table to open it up. Immediately, there were three of the happiest dogs you have ever seen surrounding the resting spot on the grass, all of them heads down, busily licking the juices off the lawn.
I had decided I was not going to go over and watch while they were cutting up the pig, but it wasn’t long before my curiosity got the better of me. And you know, within about 2 minutes, I was wrist deep in the pig helping Joe get the meat out. I was surprised at how quickly I went from being nervous about the whole animal-ness of it to it just being food. It did feel different, and I’d be lying if I claimed I didn’t whisper a small apology to the animal splayed out in front of me, but while that felt like the right thing to do, at the end of it, it was dinner and I did not have a problem digging right into it.
And oh my word, was that pig delicious. Juicy, succulent, rich, sweet - the most delicious pork I have ever eaten. Alone, it would have been worth the 6 1/2 hours we spent in the car yesterday. Paired that with a chance to see family I don’t see often, and it was absolutely worth it.
And I get to continue being smug about having the nerve to look my food in the face when I have the chance to do so. That’s priceless.