Back home on the South Shore my summer’s are often filled with a lot of sun, campfires, spider dogs and MEAT. Part of the reason there is so much meat is that my Dad does pig roasts pretty much every weekend in the summer. He’s quite the fella and constructed the ‘pig roaster’ himself. He and his friend call themselves Sweet Sizzle.
Whether it is a wedding, a conference, or just a bunch of people getting together for no good reason, he’s generally there. I’m talking pork, beef, chicken, turkey, bologna and buffalo. I mean everyone loves a good hunk of pulled pork on their plate but personally the beef is ridiculously amazing. Wait…. the bologna is SO GOOD. Not only does he marinate it but carves it as it cooks so you always have a piece of the outside ends.
Of course the star of the show is any meat that he puts on the spit but what a lot of people don’t realize is the amount of work and time that goes into cooking a pig. Especially a whole pig! The majority of the time he does numerous meats at once and hence not a whole pig. In order to have a whole one you have to have a hell of a lot of people. Little miss piggy on the spit is definitely a show stopper.
This has been such an essential lately, that my brother has even got into the roasting biz. Whether he’s helping out my Dad or taking on a solo roast for friend functions, errrrrrrybooooooody in the club be roasting.
I will say that when Dad made the roaster he was smart enough to make the top heavy enough that I can’t open it to pick at the meat. So don’t be thinking you’re going to sneak a peek unless you have muscles. While the pictures may make it look easy, it really isn’t. From what I understand, everything needs to be timed perfectly and watched continuously. They even record everything down in a book in every roast they do. Below are some pictures of an annual roast they do; one that I was allowed to come to (not everybody wants me at their wedding yo). At the annual Slauenwhite’s party back at lake, quite a few heads get together to shoot the shit, drink some drinks and well…eat some meat. This year we had pork, beef, bologna… I think? (cue meat coma).
So who wants to be Dad’s best friend? No seriously Dad, you da bomb.