Grilling a piggie... a photo essay of sorts

Grilling a piggie takes some planning, from obtaining the piggie, deciding on the marinade and rub, and implementing the best cooking method and heat source.  It is also important to take care of both the physical and metaphysical needs of the cook.   Thanks to Bill C. for the photos and moral support, and for Jim and Shelly D. for finding the source of pork.

The local markets near me could get BIG pigs, from 70 to 150 pounds.  As a first foray into piggie roasting, I wanted to start smaller in the event an unexpected  meteor shower struck the BBQ or there was a error in the Mayan Calendar, causing the world to end before the entire pig could be consumed.

The piggie was procured at Longranch in Manteca.  I paid $90 and left with 30lbs of fresh porcine wonder in a cooler.  Once home, it was marinaded overnight in a simple brine of salt, sugar, and lots of fresh lemon juice.

The piggies was to be cooked on a BBQ trailer, the kind with no lid, over mesquite charcoal.  The piggie was rubbed with garlic salt, more garlic powder, paprika, black pepper, olive oil, lemon pepper, and rosemary. 

He was placed on the grill.   Here we see Mark G. (a brother from another mother and fellow chin-hair sportin' dude) helping with the correct placement, while Bob M. supervises from a safe distance.

 

The piggie was then covered with a piece of aluminum patio roof material, and first roasted on his back to get the skin rendered and crispy.  He was basted with apple juice during the entire cooking process...(Don't worry about cigar ash...I'm a specialist and have undergone hours of rigorous training under adverse conditions).

At times, the pig just had to sit and roast.  That was the time to relax and contemplate the mysteries of the Universe..

(Warning...WHITE TRASH ALERT!!!)

The photo below shows the "right way" to chillax while grilling the pig.  First of all, my ancestors did not risk life and limb to leave their homeland almost 400 years ago, sail to this new, uncharted land and fight for our freedom, forging a nation from from the untamed wilds, only to have their progeny perch precariously on aluminum and plastic chairs.  A man needs to acknowledge and honor those who blazed the trails before him through their sheer will and determination by sitting in a chair that is both steadfast, dependable, and rock-solid.  Hence, the recliner. 

 I know, the fight for freedom is often not attractive, but sometimes one has to take a stand (or sit).

A little bourbon and a fine Gurkha Torpedo maduro cigar certainly puts everything in perspective and may be credited for the look of contentment on my face (Also, I was not worried that the chair, christened "Manifest Destiny," would fail to support my "Congress," a.k.a the Senate (right cheek) and the House (left cheek). 

Special Thanks to Bill C. for donating the fine chair.

The piggie went on the coals at 2:00 pm, and by 5:30 was ready for serving.  The photo below speaks for itself...

 Until next time...