It's All Over But The Oinking

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On Friday I had a pig roast for the good folks at my work. I've been wanting to have a party on our back patio for while now, and a pig roast seemed like a great excuse.

The pig-man, Dave, rolled up around 9am hauling his giant cooker and laid the poor guy out on a table to prepare him for the spickett. Then, after hours of turning and checking, he shrunk to half his size but still yielded a ton of meat.

I resisted the urge to give Jasper the less-desirable swine parts (ears, hooves) because, while I know he would have ENJOYED THEM IMMENSELY, I didn't want to clean up the result during our walks for the next two days.

Was it worth it? The meat was "okay." I expected it to be as tender as pulled pork and I think it was just a little undercooked because it was on the tough side. But, now I can cross "pig roast" off the list of things I want to do at the house (I've been to many, but never had one).

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