Our House, Is a Very Very Very Warm House

Gus McCrae: Well we don't rent pigs and I figure it's better to say it right out front because a man that does like to rent pigs is... he's hard to stop.

Lonesome Dove (1989)

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Yesterday, GF and I held a housewarming/barbecue. It was the first time we were having serious company at the house, so we made an extra effort to get boxes unpacked (or stashed away) and turn the house into a reasonably presentable place. Between that and whatever shopping we had to do this week, it's small wonder that I haven't been seen here in the last few days.

The party was a pretty big deal, from a scale perspective. We had maybe 40-45 people there. It's hard to tell, since there's some ebb and flow to the guests, plus when I start tabulating bodies before the party, I don't count kids and dates. And the centerpiece of it all was the roasted pig.

This is the part that a lot of people just didn't seem to believe, that I was roasting a pig. The invitation said it was a pig roast; I'm not sure what the issue was. But a fair percentage of people insisted on seeing the pig.

Their next question was usually: "Where do you get a whole pig, anyway?" The answer in my case was Fenwicks, which is in the Cross Street Market. I found them through an Internet search when another place, which was recommended to me, didn't return my call. One person, incredulously, asked me, "Really! They have pigs there?" Well, you have to order it in advance. It's not as though you can walk in and point out the one you want under the glass. The address I had from my search gave an address on Charles Street, so in the morning I went down there and started cruising the area. Finally I gave up and called them. That's when I found out they were in the market itself.

When I got there, they had my pig. At 49 pounds, it was a little bigger than I'd expected, but what the hell. They hadn't butterflied it yet, so the owner, a fellow named Henry, took it out of its packaging and and I held it down while he took a hacksaw to the spine. Despite that, it's a delicate operation (heh) because you have to cut through the bone but not the skin, otherwise you have two half pigs, which isn't nearly as interesting.  Our operation actually drew a small crowd, and a couple of people who asked me where I live. Wee One and Daughter were with me. Daughter was simultaneously grossed out and fascinated. She's seen me roast the pigs before but this was the first time she'd come face-to-face with it in the store. Wee One named it Wilbur. I can't tell if that's because she hated Charlotte's Web or as an homage to it. 

Then, a quick stop at the Sam's Club in Port Covington to buy a metric shitload of ice, and we're back to Parkville. And I ran low on ice anyway, early in the evening. GF's mom had to make a quick run to a supermarket. 

Now, Friday night, I picked up a bunch of cinderblocks and some rebar to keep them from falling over, and I arranged them into a rectangle in the unpaved alley behind my house. (The alley dead-ends two houses down, so I wasn't blocking traffic.) For the grill itself I'd purchased a stainless steel industrial wire shelving unit (also at Sam's) and used two of the shelves from that jobbie. The holes in the corners that the upright posts go through made nice guides for the rebar. So the grill was about two feet off the ground. When I got back with the pig, I started a wood fire in this above-ground "pit". Once the flames had died down I threw in about ten pounds of charcoal briquets and put the pig on the grill, body cavity-side down. About every half-hour or so I'd throw a couple of handfuls of charcoal into the pit. After three hours I flipped the pig over. So it was about ready to eat by 5:00. The bad news was, the guests were coming at 6:00. So I had to basically "turn down the heat" by banking the coals a little bit and not putting as many briquets in. I also dumped about three quarts of barbecue sauce all over, which slowed it down a little as well.

About the barbecue sauce: My brother is a huge fan of barbecue and cooks on his grill using the smoker function a lot, and he gave me the recipe for the sauce. Of course, his recipe yields about a pint of the stuff, so I'm multiplying it to make something like seven quarts altogether. My version of the recipe involved chopping a couple of onions, and using an entire bottle of Liquid Smoke. You get the idea. I made it early Thursday morning specifically so I could get the tomato sauce cans into recycling that morning and not have them to deal with along with the other trash. Is that a little weird?

Six o'clock and the bodies start arriving. GF is giving tours of the house and I'm welcoming people and getting the food out, pouring drinks and so forth. We had two medical emergencies crop up within ten minutes of each other, but were organized enough that few people even knew the first one had happened. The second one took place in front of everybody, so keeping that one quiet was tougher.

At any rate, I heard a lot of nice things about the house and the food, and I was so glad that everyone appeared to have a good time. It was a nice mix of people, including work friends (one of whom I hadn't seen in a few years), a bunch of my new neighbors and even a few people from the local blogosphere. So if you're reading this and you were there, thanks so much for coming by and I hope you'll return for future events! 

Comments

[Malnurtured Snay]

Thanks for having me! Your house is beautiful and your cat -- the gray striped one - adorable. I rang the bell and he came over and looked at me like "What? I can't open the door with my paws!"

I wanted to see the pig because I've never had, like, unprocessed pig. Y'know, ham, bacon, sausage, sure. But actual, unprocessed, look, "there's the snout" pig? Never before, and hopefully again sometime.

Thanks again for the invite! Sorry I didn't RSVP :)

[epiph]

I didn't get a chance to thank you yet for your invite, but, thank you. I was away in Michigan this weekend, in a wedding. I would have loved to have attended.

Good luck cleaning: I spent many Mondays in high school cleaning up used hog carcasses and hog roasting pans after the remnants had baked all day in the sun on Sunday after the parties on Saturdays. It's a big reason why I'm still a vegetarian.

[yellojkt]

The pork was fantastic. The improvised grille was very clever. The only other pig roast I have ever been to was part of a Tet festival (the Vietnamese version of Chinese New Year). The barbeque sauce was very good. You have some very nice neighbors and a lovely home.

[danielle]

I wish I could have made it, but like epiph was in another state. I didn't realize it was going to be such a big event. I'm impressed! Can you take over my cookout planning duties? :)

[Claude]

My only real regret is that I didn't get to chitchat with folks as much as I'd hoped. There's a certain element of timing involved with parties this size that I still have to nail down a little better. (And the medical emergencies didn't help matters.)

Snay: The cat you're talking about was Marlon. Sometimes the cats from next door decide to pop in once in awhile, though. And you were FAR from the first to insist on seeing the pig.

Epiphany: I ordered well; there was only a couple of pounds of leftovers. Usually I have to eat leftover pork for over a week. This time it's no more than a couple of days' worth. So cleanup wasn't bad. But I can't say I blame you.

Danielle: Take over? No. But I'm happy to help. And when are you coming for the glads?

[usedtobeme]

Our old neighbors roasted a pig once and it smelled delicious but my mom wouldn't let us kids go over for whatever paranoid reason she had at the time.

I'll have to wait for Hawaii to taste it I guess.

Congrats on the new house, the party and the pig. Have a good weekend.