My Piggy Birthday

There comes a time when a girl knows what she wants. When someone says, "What do you want for Christmas or Hanukkah, or what do you want for your birthday?" the answer can give one pause... This year I told my parents and the Husband: I want a pig.

Not a pet pig. That would be silly. A gorgeous 50LB roasting pig? Now you're talking.

Meet Constantine:

I named him as such because he (or she, I really don't know) was a fighter, I can tell. A great pig amongst pigs.

The H and I ordered Constantine from a superb local butcher (The Butcher and Larder) who sources from as close to the city as possible. We had to order at least a week or two in advance, in case inquiring minds were inquiring. The day before the party we went to the shop to pick it up and they scored his/her (him from now on, this is getting ridiculous) skin for us and also placed some of the innards in to-go containers -- the modern equivalent to an Egyptian tomb urn, if you get my drift.

They placed him in a dignified black trash bag, and we put him in the trunk...just as a cop drove by... (Now, I don't know if this was just the neighborhood, but the cop didn't stop us. Typical.) Anyway, we took him home, but not to our home, because the next step involved a bathtub and our has Jacuzzi jets -- as much as I love pigs and the meat of their loins I don't want one involved in my lavender-eucalyptus bath time... (however, in reading this over for proofing, these would be excellent flavors for pork... though aren't eucalyptus leaves poisonous to humans? thoughts? hmmm.) So over to the neighbors he went and into the bathtub packed with ice. We heavily salted him and left him over night to "cure".

The next day we carted him over to the house of another friend who has a yard where the party would also be later in the day; a yard is unfortunately essential for this type of grill. Let me just say right now, if your yard is full of precious grasses this cooking method is not for you. Buy a spit or rent a smoker, or what-have you, because this will RUIN your grass. Luckily for us these friends are building a garage in the backyard soon, so the state of the grass was not of great concern. The H had gone before piggy-pickup and bought 40 or so cinder blocks and a 4x8 foot piece of expanded metal. You know, from the friendly local expanded metal shop. These, along with 4 industrial sized baking sheets and some tinfoil, would be all the grill would need to be assembled. EASY. Here's how it went...

Building the grill: 3 blocks for the long side, two on the shorter ends. Some of the bottom blocks were turned on their sides for airflow, then the tinfoil is placed on the grass (where the coals live), then we build the sides of the grill up another level, making it ready to have the grate lain upon them. On top of the grate then is lain the third level of blocks, then the sheet pans. The first set of coals were lit in the chimney and then emptied out onto the tinfoil right before we put the grate on. Subsequent coals were shoveled from the the corners on the second level, which we left at angles for easy removal and replacement. (If I could I'd draw an arrow I would, but it's basically where the shadow of the hand is in the bottom right corner.) Some people use bricks to stop up the holes in the cinder blocks for the air flow, but we used tinfoil flaps...because, honestly, we forgot the bricks... it worked just fine though! The grate we used hung over the edge of the blocks by about a foot and a half, and was propped up by another block, which was actually good because we used this end as a little table for the waiting coals, utensils and such. 

Before we put Constantine on the rack (giggle) we injected him with a brine I made the night before containing white wine, sage, mustard, and S and P. Simple, but enough flavor and moisture to ensure our porky friend wouldn't dry out. It's a good excuse to buy one of those gigantic injector needles. Everyone needs one of those.

Then it was on the grill, with a probe thermometer inserted into the shoulder to track progress. The only thing we should have done was use an oven thermometer inside the grill to track the temp. The pig should cook for 5-6 hours at no warmer than 250. We got a little excited...Constantine started out like this...

...but by the end he got a little crispy on his back... like this... The flavor wasn't compromised, just the skin. Actually, it was kind of tragic, but whatcha gonna do. How many times do people roast whole pigs in the city.

The other thing that we didn't think about was how to get him off the grill, he was so tender when he was done that to pick up him up whole would have been disastrous. Others before us using this cooking method welded handles onto the grate's sides for easy removal and serving. We didn't do that, obviously, because that's the smart-plan-ahead thing to do. Necessity (proving to be once again the mother of invention) led us to cutting the beast in half and sliding him onto two of the giant pans. It was actually better for us because then you can have two serving stations. So folks carved him up to their hearts content, and I think Constantine was overall very happy with his performance. He looks pleased anyway...

Constantine, weighing in at just over 50lbs, fed about 25 people with gobs leftover. Friends brought salads and fixin's, and a lucky few took some of the noble animal home with them -- which I have to say is THE BEST party gift, you all should remember this for future baby showers. We had pork tacos several nights following, as well as various sandwiches. The best part for me... The skin. I could have just eaten that and been happy. Best birthday present ever.