Roasting a whole pig
For some people, a single Boston butt or rack of ribs isn't enough. Or maybe they have an entire neighborhood, or hungry troupe of Boy Scouts to feed. You could just up the quantity of pork you prepare, but where's the spectacle in that? What you need is an old-fashioned pig roast.
This is not an endeavor to take lightly. Make a few mistakes - easy to do as an amateur - and that ravenous crowd of friends and family will turn ugly the third time you tell them it'll be another hour before dinner is served. When intact, pigs are tricksy beasts, the carcasses incredibly heavy, the meat prone to uneven, slow cooking. Add in the cost of that big beast, and you might be feeling some jitters. But the Summer of Pig demands you try.
Don't worry, CL's got your back. Below are a few simple tips that'll help you through your first attempt at this incredible feat.
The Pit Roast
The first step is ordering the pig. Your local butcher can take care of that, but plan ahead since it will often take a minimum of a week for it to come in. Ask the meatman to make sure that all the hair is removed, but to leave on the tail, ears and snout (for presentation, of course, and some tasty jowl meat). It will likely come frozen, so either pick it up in time to defrost the carcass yourself, or ask the butcher to do it. The night before the big day, slather it in whatever combination of liquid, salt, spices and herbs tickles your fancy, then make sure it stays cold until morning.
Classic whole-pig roasting - the kind you see at Hawaiian luaus - requires you to dig up the backyard. You'll need a pit about two-and-a-half to three feet deep, and about five to seven feet across. Line the pit with rocks, bricks, stones, or any hard surface that's handy, but try to avoid treated materials that might release toxic chemicals when heated (like glazed tiles). Light a massive fire using hardwood or charcoal, and throw some more rocks in once it's blazing. When the fire has burned down to mere glowing, ashy coals, carefully take some of the rocks and fill the pig's cavity (this will help promote even cooking). Truss the pig to keep those rocks in, then wrap it in chicken wire for easier handling.
Spread the coals around the pit and line with banana leaves, corn husks, or any other non-toxic material else that'll separate the pig from the rocks. Drop the pig in, carefully, cover with more leaves, then cover that with wet burlap to keep the meat moist. Drape a canvas cloth over the entire pit, then cover with dirt. Time to wait!
Cooking time will vary, sometimes dramatically, so best to start earlier than you think. As an estimate, a 75 pound pig (that's live-weight, before it's been butchered) should take about 4 hours. 150 pounds, 8 hours. make sure to leave yourself a couple of easy-access paths to the roasting pig so you can slap a meat thermometer into the meat. 160 degrees is the target - higher than when cooking a tenderloin, but it's nice to be sure.
If the pig is done earlier than you predicted, it won't overcook dramatically if you leave it in a little longer. Or you can dig it out and work on your presentation - an apple in its mouth is a classic - and let your guests see it splayed out on the table when they arrive. That's always better than making them wait.
If that's too much work, you have options: Make a "pit" oven using cinder blocks, arranged in a rectangle, then line with heavy-duty aluminum foil. It's essentially the same, without the dirt.
Buy a Caja China roasting box, which is a portable, commercial version of a pit that works incredibly well. Only small pigs will fit, though.
Slap a rotisserie into your grill, or create one with sticks and twine over an open flame. The pig should be about a foot from the heat source, and you need to keep it spinning for a very long time.
Small pigs can be butterflied and grilled. Just hit the pig on the back hard enough to crack the bones, then drop it splayed open onto a low fire, around 200-250 degrees. Yet again, depending on your grill, you'll likely need a smaller pig for this.
The last piece of advice all budding whole-hog enthusiasts should remember is: Don't fear the pig. With fire, you can be its master.
How - and where - to buy pork raised near Sarasota
Local vegetables and fruits are commonplace, if you know where to look, but finding local meat is a distinct challenge. Blame the USDA.
Hogs meant for commercial meat sales usually have to go through the mega-slaughterhouses regulated by the USDA, whether it's a couple of pigs from a local farm or a thousand pigs from a corporate production facility. That makes it much harder for the little guys, since those slaughterhouses charge a premium for the smaller jobs of the family farm.
There is a loophole, however. Hogs meant for personal consumption - by the owners, theoretically - can be slaughtered at smaller, local slaughterhouses. Over the past few years, farms have started offering entire hogs for sale before they are mature, then the farm finishes raising the hog for you. If you're not in the market for that much meat, they'll even match you up with other interested folks so you can buy a quarter or half of a pig.
Don't worry, you won't have to break down the carcass yourself; it will come to you butchered and wrapped to order. All you have to do is buy a freezer big enough to store your meat.
Why go through the trouble and extra expense of buying local? Industrial farms separate pigs from their mothers two to three weeks after birth, keep them in tight confines and often treat them with drugs to ensure good health. Local pork is usually raised naturally, wheich means lots of space for piggy behavior, the ability to choose from varied feed, and the hogs are weaned more slowly from their mamas. Even better, this style of pork is less lean then supermarket stuff, which means it tastes a hell of alot better.
And I didn't even talk about all the usual benefits of buying local., like keeping money in the hands of area farmers, reducing petroleum waste from production and transportation, and buying meat that's actually fresh. Plus if you ask nicely, you go visit your own hog in the flesh.
Below are two local farms that serve up incredible, local pork, two different ways.
Palmetto Creek Farms, PO Box 607, Avon Park, 863-449-0006 Originally started as a 4-H project, Palmetto Creek Farms has turned into an incredible producer of pork out east of Sarasota County. Owner Jim Woods tested 10 different breeds of pig over several years before settling on a stock of Hereford hogs. He sacrificed speed of growth and number of offspring for incredible flavor and intramuscular fat that hasn't been bred out of the pig like those at corporate farms.
Although Palmetto Creek sells largely to the restaurant trade, they'll be happy to ship you some of their fabulous meat, or you can drive out an pick it up yourself.
My Mother's Garden 3819 Country Road 579 South, Wimauma, 813-956-1643 My Mother's Garden is a full service stop for any dedicated locavore, from organically produced vegetables and fruit to hormone-free, grass-fed beef to cultivated shiitake mushrooms. The farm's Berkshire and Tamworth hogs get the same all-natural approach as the beef, along with an extensive grazing area that results in classic, acorn-fed pork (depending on the season).My Mother's Garden sells pigs by the half and whole.
Sarasota's roadside barbecue stands
Unless you use it as a forced, extended period of relaxation, spending the better part of day in front of the smoker isn't an easy thing to schedule into the typical week. And, although the fruits of your labor are often reward enough for the time spent tending the fire, you don't have to spend the effort when you can drive down the street for a pile of meat that may be better than what you can accomplish on your own.
Below are Sarasota's roadside chefs, who head to their asphalt restaurants every weekend, trailing their kitchens behind their rides. Most have been around for years, with a history and cadre of loyal regulars, while some are relatively new to the biz. Drop us a line if you know of any we missed.
Alday's
Corner of Bahia Vista and Beneva Road, Saturday's, 809-2589
Although it may be the most ubiquitous name in Sarasota barbecue - with at least two locations operating these days - Alday's is by no means the best of the bunch. Although the pork is cooked right, and juicy enough, the rub seems straight out of a massive tub of garlic salt, tainting the meat with astringent, chemical flavors. Besides that, the meat here - be it pulled pork, ribs or chicken - is barely touched by smoke, tasting more barbecued than tended for hours over smoldering hardwood chunks. The beans aren't bad, though, and they are one of the only stands to take credit cards.
D&R
Corner of 17th St. and Tuttle Ave., Saturdays, 951-0632
If you want to get mugged in the alley by a hulking mass of hardwood smoke flavor, head to D&R. The chicken and ribs must spend days bathing in smoke, the flavor permeating straight to the bones and beyond. Drop a bag of this in your car, and you'll be smelling it for days. It's fabulous.Admittedly, you pay a little in terms of texture - the meat is often cooked so long it can be dry - but that's a price you may be comfortable with. Salve that pain with D&R excellent mustard-based sauce, sweet and spicy with a bit of tang.Pulled pork here is more troublesome, since it is chopped fine and mixed with sauce before earlier in the day, which mutes the smoke and makes the texture a bit spongy. Stick with the ribs and chicken.
Perry's
Old Salty Dog parking lot, Siesta Village, 724-1702 or perryssauce.com
Perry is the all-around king of barbecue in Sarasota. I might prefer a little of this at one place, a little of that at another, but if I want a one-stop shop, I head to Perry. He manages to infuse his meat with a hefty dose of smoke without losing the luscious texture that reminds you of rich pork fat. All of the meat is simply seasoned, which leaves room for a dip and dunk in Perry's trademarked and bottled tomato-based barbecue sauce, which is worth a purchase by itself. Although most of these roadside stands tend to dish up mass-produced slaw and potato salad, Perry's does make a mean mac and cheese that's crusty on top and elegantly gooey on the inside.
Nancy's Bar-B-Q
Occasional Sundays at the corner of University and 301, weekday delivery, 955-3400 or nancysbarbq.tumblr.com
We've loved Nancy Krohngold's take on pulled pork for a while now - slathered in an aromatic rub of sweet spices, exceptionally tender and rich meat - but getting our hands on it has been a problem. Last year, Nancy's regular gig selling sandwiches and sides out of a parking lot north of downtown was shut down by the state thanks to the lack of sinks. That's a lesson in why roadside barbecue stands are usually only open on the weekends, when inspectors are off-duty.Along with your pulled pork, you should also try Nancy's gooey and sweet pineapple upside-down cake. I'm always tempted to mash it into my pork sandwich, but maybe that's a bit too much of a good thing.
Kersey's Cracker Style
Fruitville Road and Myakka Road, Friday through Sunday, 915-7191
Unless you live east of I-75, this relatively young barbecue joint is a bit of a drive. Still, it's worth it if you need a big smoke fix out in the sticks. Here, the ‘cue is reminiscent of Perry's - smoky, simple and all-around tasty. Try the beans, but only if you're a fan of pork (and you wouldn't be reading this otherwise, would you?), since he packs almost as much meat into each scoop of the sticky and spicy concoction as he does into the sandwiches.
