Cooking a Whole Animal

I have no problems with animals being raised and slaughtered for food. I would like to believe that every animal leads a good life and is slaughtered as humanely as possible, but I know that's not true and for this post it really doesn't matter. I'm not going to get into that here, so PETA people move on. I know that once this pig was in my hands it was treated with respect.

With all that said, I didn't expect to feel anything when I cooked this pig. In a very strange way, I feel responsible for this animal's demise. I asked for a whole pig and it was delivered. I don't believe that this pig was killed on my order, but it just as well may have been. Frankly, the thought bothers me.

Why don't I feel the same connection to the animal parts I pick up "wrapped and cut" in the supermarket of from the butcher? I've never really connected those spare ribs with an animal. I understand where they come from, but the retail meat been so sanitized that the connection back to nature has been lost.

According to the Humane Society of the United States, pigs are the third most consumed animal in the country after chicken and beef. I'm talking retail pounds of flesh consumed per capita. I have no idea how many actual chickens, cows and pigs are slaughtered each year, but in terms of actual pounds of flesh the average American consumed 51 pounds of pig meat in 2007 down from 65 pounds of swine per person in 1950. Pork was the most consumed form of animal flesh in the United States until 1965 was it was overtaken by beef.

So if pig meat is so popular why the squeamishness about cooking or eating a whole animal?

Ever since childhood we've been taught that pigs are cute. Do you remember Charlotte's Web? Babe? Gub Gub? Lester? Little Pig Robinson? And let's not forget the Queen of cuteness- Piglet? I could go on and on. We as a society have an obsession with pigs. Look around any curio shop, kitchen store or thrift shop. How many cute little piggies do you see? Hell, even in my own kitchen we have a ceramic pig dressed in a chef's coat holding a black board. How many barbeque teams feature a comical pig as their mascot or in its logo? Take a quick gander through Suicide Food and see how often a pig is used to represent a good time or a feast.

When I first saw the pig, purchased for me from the fine folks at RUB BBQ as Matt ushered me into their walk-in, it appeared to be sleeping on the shelf amongst all the other meat cuts. Even seeing her lying amongst ribs and pork butts, I didn't make the connection between the familiar cuts of meat and an actual animal. Only when Matt took the pig off the shelf and handed her to me exposing her gutted belly did it begin to register that a life had been given up. Matt and I both felt this and acknowledged it to each other.

Matt placed the pig into my outstretched arms where it hung like a sleeping child. This was getting tough. "Was this "piglet"? "I thought, "I'm going to cook "this"?" Why has this thought never bothered me before? I've cooked whole animals in the past, including pigs. I guess that since this was the first time doing it on my own, I assumed a higher level of responsibility. In other cooks I was the accomplice, here I was the protagonist. Oh, of course, I could blame Ned as this pig was for his birthday party, but once the idea of eating a whole hog was breached, I immediately offered to do the deed. Little did I know that this pig would have an effect on me.

We quickly placed the pig in a cooler, covered her with ice and put it in the trunk of my car. I sped to Brooklyn and Matt returned to the bowels of RUB where he prepared the hundreds of pounds of offerings of flesh served in the restaurant that day.

Driving to Ned's I put the thought of "a pig" out of my mind. With the animal in the trunk of my car, the sweet little pig was just "meat" again and I could focus on preparing it for the party.

She stayed "meat" until it came time to prepare her for cooking. As Kevin Lincoln and I were preparing the pig, one of Ned's female guests arrived and freaked out by the site of the pig laying on the table. With as much macho we could muster, we immediately ridiculed here for her squeamishness. But to be completely honest, Kevin and I both felt something for the animal. This was not a moment to take lightly.

I'm not going to get into the actual preparation as this post is already much too long, but in laying her out on the cooking rack, cleaning and seasoning, naming her as is tradition and placing her on the fire, this slab of meat became an animal once again. It was with some trepidation that I closed the lid for the first few hours of cooking.

Somewhere in the magic of the smoke, this pig became meat again. As the smoke worked on the pig, it also performed a sort of magic on my mind and soul. It changed my attitude towards the animal from pity to respect. When she was finally removed from the fire and I put the first strike of the knife blade into its side, this pig was meat and nothing more. But I did offer a silent prayer of thanks for its sacrifice.

So, from now on when I'm cooking a rack of ribs or a pork shoulder or any cut of meat, I'll remember that this meat is really from an animal that was slaughtered so that I could eat and offer a little prayer in thanks. I recommend you do the same.

Cooking Whole Hog

I'm at a loss as what to write about this event. Cooking a whole animal requires, no demands some respect, but why that is not the case when cooking parts leaves me in a quandary. More later.

BBQ Equipment: Wilmington Grills.

Since I was so verbose yesterday, I'll keep it short and sweet today. Here is a picture of the Ed Mitchell designed and constructed by Wilmington Grills pig cooker that will be used on Saturday. Look at the size of this beast! I can't wait.

BBQ Thoughts: Pig Roasting in the Big City

Everything is in motion. There's no turning back now. Last night Kevin Lincoln of the New York BBQ Lover's Meetup Group and Ned Berke of Sheepshead Bites and I your humble blogger drove up to Norwalk Connecticut and borrowed an Ed Wilson Ed Mitchell designed, not to be confused, as I had just done, with the esteemed Connecticut based pitmaster Ed Wilson, constructed by Wilmington Grills pig roaster from Nancee and Greg of Purple Turtle Catering Company, one of Connecticut's best catering companies and award winning barbecue chefs, in order prepare for the bacchanalian orgy of food and drink that will be served this Saturday in a private yard in Sheepshead Bay Brooklyn.

Scott Smith, pitmaster extraordinaire of New York City's premiere barbecue joint RUB has ordered the 60lb or so sacrifice of pork for me that will be roasted and smoked by us and I'll be picking it up Friday.

Now the work falls on my shoulders. How will I prepare said hog? Will it be injected? Rubbed? Cooked skin up or down? Butterflied? Stupefied? Testified? Will we be doing a pig picking where all you need is a beer in one hand and a fork in the other? Or will the pig be removed from its fiery grates and its body parts carved up into more, shall we say "acceptable" presentation serving pieces for the less squeamish?

I got some thinking to do as this will be my first pig cooking done solo. Well, not really solo as I will be turning to the ever talented Kevin Lincoln for assistance and RUB's Matt Fisher for his chefly advice and counsel.

Pray for good weather. Pray for sanity. Pray for properly cooked swine. As the bible says...

"There were burnt offerings in abundance, together with the fat of the fellowship offerings and the drink offerings that accompanied the burnt offerings. So the service of the temple of the LORD was reestablished."

Now I don't know about re-establishing the temple, but a good time is guaranteed for all.

Photo of the pig roast above courtesy of A Brooklyn Life, whom I've never met and from whom I stole this picture and whose blog I enjoy even if it is so focused on the hipster side of the borough ignoring its heart, but am inviting to this pig roast nonetheless.

PS. Do you think I got enough links into one post?

Pig Roast

I'm off to Norwalk CT, tonight to borrow one of these bad boys to cook a 60lb pig for a friend's birthday this weekend. Come out to Brooklyn on Saturday!

Here Piggy Piggy Piggy

So where in the naked city can one get a whole smoked pig? I called around town using Gary's (with one r) site Pigtrip, which lists the BBQ joints in the city for my starting point and worked my way from there. Pigtrip saved me an enormous amount of time and weeded out many of the pseudo 'que places listed under BBQ in the phone book.

If you're a restaurant owner or a pitmaster and you serve whole smoked pig, and by some chance I missed your place, please let me know.

I have not included caterers in my list. I would assume that just about every BBQ caterer can provide you with a whole smoked pig. But don't assume anything. ASK. I was surprised by the responses of some of the places I called where I assumed they would cook whole pig. And you know what happens when one assumes don't you?

As promised, here's the list of the barbecue joints that sell whole smoked pigs. Let me be clear here, all of the bbq joints listed require advance notice when you want a whole pig; you can't just walk in and take one home. As far as I can tell, only Daisy May's has a whole pig on the menu; everywhere else you'll have to ask for it special.

So if you're craving whole smoked pig in two days or so, try any of the following...

In Manhattan

• Blue Smoke (212) 447-7733
  
• Bone Lick Park (212) 647-9600
  
• Daisy May's BBQ USA (212) 977-1500
  
• Johny Utah's (large parties only) (212) 265-8824
• RUB - Righteous Urban BBQ (212) 524-4300
  
• Spanky's BBQ (212) 575-5848 (You must talk to the catering department)
  
• Wildwood BBQ (212) 533-2500 (The picture above is courtesy of my good friend and NYC pitmaster at Wildwood Matt Fisher. This pig was served recently to some very happy people at Wildwood. You can read about his life in the world of Q on his blog.)
  

In the wild outer Boroughs (Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens and Staten Island)

• Char No.4 (718) 643-2106
• Fette Sau (718) 963-3404
• Three Brother's Butcher (Take out only.) (718) 224-7753 (Tell them I sent you)
  

Well, that's all I have. I called every place on Gary's list and you'd be surprised by some of the answers I received. Some of the folks answering the phones didn't even seem to grasp the concept of a whole smoked pig, but that's a post for another time. Enjoy!

The Big Brooklyn Pig Roast

This just in to my mailbox.....

The Big Brooklyn Pig Roast…

And Harvest Hoedown is coming Oct. 10!

Nothing says harvest like the crackle of hot, crispy pig skin, especially when that skin is covering a 200-lb Berkshire hog, roasted whole over an open barbecue pit by Tom Mylan, Brooklyn’s favorite butcher.

Hosted by Brooklyn Based, Sweet Deliverance, Ear Farm and The Yard, the first annual Big Brooklyn Pig Roast and Harvest Hoedown is a prelude to the following day’s Harvest Festival at The Yard, and a celebration of all the best the season has to offer.

Snuggle up to someone special with a pint of Sixpoint and a plate of pork tacos, roast corn, fresh salsas, greens, warm apple crisp and cinnamon ice cream from Blue Marble. Then turn up your heels to the Americana twang and hillbilly swerve of The Jones Street Boys, Motel Motel, and Bel Air, as the lights sparkle on the Gowanus Canal.

Joshua Applestone of Fleisher’s Grass Fed and Organic Meats will be on hand to talk about why properly raised pigs are so delicious, and a member of the New Farmer Development Project, which the dinner will benefit, will speak about their work with farms. And Not Eating Out in New York blogger Cathy Erway is lending a hand with dessert.

Sixpoint beers $1 from 6-7. Five percent of proceeds benefit New Farmer Development Project. Tickets $32 in advance, available online at http://tinyurl.com/42yylc, or $40 at the door. (Free for kids 10 and under.) Click flyer to enlarge.

A shelter from pigs on the wing?

This came into my inbox today and I thought I'd share. Pig Brother is watching.

No barbecue is safe
John Kass - The Chicago Tribune
February 8, 2008

America was a free country, once, before the Barbecue Police put their boot heels on our necks.

"Or, you can call them the Pig Police, since they hate people cooking pigs in their own back yard!" Amante Enad, 55, of Wheeling told me Thursday.

"That's what I was doing, until they wrote tickets on me and took me to court. I said, 'What rights do I have to cook in my own back yard? Don't I have rights to cook a pig on my own property?' And they gave me the tickets."

The enemy in this case is the Village of Wheeling. Not the fine and proud barbecue-loving people of Wheeling, but the power-mad bureaucrats of Wheeling. They're dragging Enad into court next week on some vague charge of barbecuing multiple pigs without a license.

But it sounds like they're just opposed to a proud native of the Philippines cooking up some traditional lechon (roast pork) on his own property for later transport to a church fiesta.

It's time Americans stand up and protest, because once they get Enad's back yard rotisseries, they'll come after yours, and then they'll come after mine, and they'll order us to eat lentils and like it.

"What country is America, where you can't even cook a pig in your own back yard?" Enad asked me, perhaps rhetorically. "They came, they wrote tickets. I asked them, 'What are my rights in my own home?' And you know what they told me?"

No, what did they say?

"They said, 'You can cook only one pig. One pig only.' Who sets the limits on pigs? It's my hobby, not a business. I do it for love of the Filipino people. And they say one pig. One pig? Who are they to say one pig? What is going on?"

I first learned of the Barbecue Police by reading stories by Tribune reporter Vikki Ortiz, who has been following the anti-lechon discrimination case.

She pointed out that the lechon Enad made was recently served at St. Catherine Laboure Roman Catholic Church inGlenview. So I called the priests there.

"You can't have a meeting of any kind of Filipinos without having lechon," Rev. Alfredo Salera, associate pastor, told me Thursday. "You have it for birthdays, house blessings and any big feast. I don't know the man, but I've heard his name from other people. He cooks lechon for fiestas. You can't have a fiesta without it. A fiesta without lechon is not a fiesta."

Wheeling Village Manager Mark Rooney says Enad may have been running a lechon side business, but the evidence was unclear.

One anonymous tipster whispered to inspectors that Enad was trapping and slaughtering animals in his back yard, and once he was finished, he'd toss the bones onto the neighbor's yard.

Clearly, this is a vicious lie and not evidence, but some bones were allegedly found. Naturally, the anonymous lechon-hating "neighbor" could have planted them.

"[Inspectors] agreed he could keep the roasters and not sell anything to the public, and if he did it for family and close friends, the village had no problem," Rooney said. "We are not the Barbecue Police. He has to keep the bones on his property so the neighbor doesn't run over them with his lawn mower."

So I called Enad's neighbor, who said he has no complaints whatsoever.

"I would never complain on a guy for cooking in his own back yard," said Roman Augustyn, a native of Poland, which has its own proud roast-pig traditions.

"It doesn't bother me. He told me he stopped because the village came after him. I'd never call the pig police on a neighbor because he cooks a few times. If he makes some more, I hope he brings me a plate," Augustyn said.

Another Wheeling bureaucrat was James Lang, about as reasonable as a riding crop against a boot.

"He's a repeat offender," Lang said. "You take all the humor or whatever you call it. When you get down to it, the guy twice had the case closed against him, and yet, he keeps breaking the code, breaking the rules.

"And then we showed up and he had five roasters and a commercial-grade freezer," Lang said.

I asked Enad about this, and he said, yes, but that he never sold any of it, and just made lechon for churches and friends because he loves to do it.

"I wondered, what country is this?" Enad said. "I mean, you cook in your back yard, they come in your house and look in your freezers? I didn't do this for money."

If they get Enad, then some day, the Barbecue Police will come after your barbecue. And they'll tell me I can't roast a lamb in my driveway on Easter because I leave the head on and neighbor kids might freak out thinking it's a dog.

And what about my rib cookers? They belch hickory smoke when I fire them up. And the two kettles, and the gas grill? The only time I'll give them up is when they're pried from my cold, dead hands.

"No one bothered me in the Philippines," Enad said. "I was free to cook there."

The great economistMilton Friedman insisted Americans should be free to choose. Now we're not even free to cook.