Pig Roast

I'd always been intrigued by a pig roast, and when the monumental

occasion of my daughter's High School graduation presented

itself we decided that a whole hog would be a fitting centerpiece

to a day of celebration.  We were right in thinking so.

Two days earlier, I picked the pig up at the butcher's and brought

it home to prepare for the big day.  With a marinade syringe I

injected the larger portions of the pig with an apple cider and

brown sugar brine, which was to moisten as well as flavor

an otherwise fairly mild-tasting meat. I found as the pig roasted

slowly for 9 hours, some of the brine oozed out of the needle

holes and caramelized on the outside of the skin; kind of like

self-basting.  Later in the day when I tapped the keg, the first 

few cups of foam that were drawn were ceremoniously

poured over the pig as well, for added flavor of course.

I learned a few things from my first attempt at roasting a whole

hog.  First off, you can't start cooking early enough.  My

pig started turning at 8:30 a.m. They say to allow an hour for 

cooking every 10 pounds of pig at 250 degrees.  The final

internal temperature of the pig must be at least 160, especially

in the thicker sections of the roast.  In a charcoal roaster with an 

open top, in my opinion, there's no exact science to maintaining

a constant temperature of 250, unless of course I just haven't

figured it out yet.  I used about 140 pounds of charcoal, adding 

around 15 pounds to the embers per hour.  In retrospect, the grill 

probably could have been hotter over the course of the day, as

the meat was certainly cooked through and moist, but it wasn't

coming off of the bone as easily as I had envisioned it.  Guests

seemed to enjoy it nevertheless, and we will continue to be fed

by this roast for many meals to come.

I also didn't foresee this job of serving being so incredibly tricky.

 Even after letting the pig rest for over a half hour after removing

it from the rotisserie, the inside was still quite hot, which made

getting a hold of it rather challenging.  Add to that a good amount

of grease (yes, pigs do have a lot of fat) and it's a slippery

hot assignment.  There must be some kind of heat/grease

resistant gloves that I can use next time.  I can see the BBQ

experts reading this right now, doubled over and laughing O L.

Being one who never likes to let anything go to waste, the next

day I put the remaining parts of the hog into two of my largest 

stockpots and simmered them for 24 hours.  I would find out

the next day that the constant heat and moisture from the pots

fried the smartboard in my over-the-range microwave.  To 

repair it, I found out, would be twice the amount it would cost

to replace it.  A new one is coming tomorrow.  No more 24

hour cooking.

One of the products of killing the microwave was about 10 

pounds of extremely tender pork, which I painstakingly removed

from the bones.  This I divided into five piles, vacuum sealed,

and put in the basement freezer for future pulled pork sandwiches.

After straining the two pots, I had 5 gallons of beautiful stock,

which I boiled down to just under 3 quarts of rich, dark glace.

After cooling the glace, I cut it into sections to freeze.  This glace

has an incredibly high gelatin content due to the bones and 

especially  the trotters.  This will be the base for sauce in the 

future or a glaze for roasted potatoes or vegetables, or simply

re-constituted and used as broth for soup.   This pig went a 

long way for us and we're grateful for its noble existence.