What is it about smoking a pig that draws a crowd? Is it the vigil kept round the pit (or in our case, the smoker) all day? Is it the beer that accompanies the vigil? Is it the idea of roasting an entire animal, head and all, calling to our most primitive let's-celebrate-the-hunt-was-successful parts of ourselves?
Whatever it is, the pig roast for the birthdays of Mum and Dad drew a crowd. Even the husbands who prefer their couches to parties mustered some enthusiasm for the pig. I arrived early at the party, held at the parents' lake house, and breathed in the oak chips smoking their way through the chimney of the smoker. Jim the pig smoker said, "That pig is 140 pounds. Did you bring an apple?" When I asked whether the apple would be stuffed into the pig's mouth while smoking, Jim and the other men laughed at my naivete. "No, it would turn to mush!" I said I did not care to drive off on a quest for a single apple for purely aesthetic purposes...
The party went off well, with swirling machines of margarita, strawberry daiquiri, and pina colada lining the walls of the screened-in porch. Sister Kelly's friend Daniel acted as the consummate host. "Welcome, may I get you a drink? We have mixed drinks, as well as beer and wine." I sat with baby Cecilia and observed the mingling of people who knew each other some or not at all.
Mum arrived and learned that a party was going on. (Cue the air horn.) She took it in stride, and got a margarita, declaring that the tequila content was insufficient. Others donned their swimsuits and headed for the water. Cousin Bill drove the motorboat for those who wanted to go tubing. Grandma Edna (excuse me, "Grandma the Great") walked about in her chunky turquoise jewelry. Auntie Sylvia said Edna was stubborn, which is true. Meanwhile, my boys Owen and Patrick ate ice out of the beer coolers.
Finally, the pig was ready. Jim used his knife skills and delivered up several aluminum bins of chopped meat. People lined up, reaching for the bbq sauce and potato salad. After the first round of meat, Dad carried in the head on a platter, John the Baptist style, except I don't recall that John the Baptist had an apple in his mouth. (Yes, it seems an apple was procured somewhere.) The sight of the pig head did not dampen my appetite as I had suspected it would--that is, until I noticed the pig's pearly whites. The molars were the most disturbing, gleaming from the back of the gaping, smoked mouth. Made our pig friend seem a little too human. The anthropomorphism made me need another drink. The boxed wine was a good choice.
It has been 5 days since that pig was smoked. (Thank god we had the good sense not to name the poor fellow--) Tonight is birthday dinner with the family for Dad, so I am using the loin from that pig to make quesadillas... Shredded smoky pork, jalapeno monterrey jack, cream cheese, and carmelized onion, summer squash, and bell peppers. Garden tomatoes, watermelon to start, and am contemplating a pineapple salsa. Will report on how it turns out, but one thing is for certain-- cooked pig draws hungry crowds.
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