This Bank Holiday we'll certainly be hankering for a slice of the hog roast action! Gareth May finds out how the pig is prepped and spiked ready for the feast
A whole pig stuck on a pole might not be the most attractive of foods. I doubt frosted cupcakes are quaking in their boots. But there’s something primal about roasting an entire animal that taps into the inner caveman and woman in all of us. What’s more, a hog roast cooked on a spit is a joyous assault on the senses – the sizzle, the scent, the spectacle; they leave even the most ardent vegetarian salivating.
In the Deep South of American it’s called pig pickin’. To South Africans it’s known as braai-ing. And to us Brits, it’s simple referred to as a hog roast. Whatever the name, the method of roasting meat over an open fire goes back thousands of years. We were spit roasting swine as far back as Roman times, the Middle Ages saw the introduction of timber frameworks – which made it easier to turn the beast over a fire pit – and by the days of Henry VIII whole boars (then ubiquitous in Britain) were a regular fixture at the royal court, as depicted in numerous Tudor paintings of the time.
Of course, things have changed. Back then it wasn’t uncommon for one of the king’s subjects to rotate the pig non-stop for 14 hours. That’s the same amount of time it takes to fly from London to LA. These days the workload is minimized as the spit is mechanized but yet admiration for the hog roast remains.
The Whole Hog
The aforementioned wow factor is one reason for this; the practicality of feeding the masses is another. A hog roast is a far easier way to satisfy the grumbling bellies of a hungry crowd than frying up individual steaks or even cooking legs or loins – a 50kg pig will feed up to 150 guests. Such an undertaking though takes dedication to the craft and the image of the spit as an archaic method of cooking isn’t the whole picture. In fact, spit roasting is a very effective way to cook a large amount of meat at one time. Cooked low and slow over naked flames that seal the flesh and keep in all the juices, which in turn baste the animal as it’s rotated over the heat, a spit-roasted hog is a wondrous thing. That’s not to say I’d be able to cook one. Personally, I wouldn’t know where to begin.
Nick Warlow runs the Gourmet Hog Roast Company. Since 2012, he’s been serving up baps brimming with pork to celebrities such as Sir Bob Geldof and the stars of hit reality show The Only Way is Essex, which, incidentally, is where they source their pigs.
At the Gourmet Hog Roast Company they ‘spike’ the pig by inserting a pole through the front and back, through the chest cavity, and then support the pig with more spikes to stop it moving as it turns on a spit roast machine. The pig is then cooked for six hours. “It can be cooked quicker than that,” Warlow says. “But you can dry out the pig if you're not careful.”
It is not however, always about the spike. Pig & Rig are a modern outfit pitching themselves as a hog roast and sound system service based in London. They’ve taken the hog roast by the trotter and pulled it grunting and snorting into the 21st century. Regularly seen at festivals feeding the baying crowds as reggae music mingles with the unctuous smells of roasted meat – quite a departure from the village fete eh – they don’t spike the pig, instead they use a gas powered roasting oven called ‘The Hogmaster.’
“We find this is incredibly efficient in comparison to traditional spit roasting methods,” founder Jacob Reed tells me. “On average we roast our pigs for 8 to 9 hours depending on the size and we tend to roast on the lowest heat possible for as long as possible to get the best results from our meat.”
As for flavours it might surprise some that both Reed and Warlow don’t reach for the British staples. “All our sauce and marinades are homemade. We tend to mainly use a Caribbean jerk blend or plum barbecue sauce,” Reed says. Likewise, Warlow takes his cue from Italian cuisine covering the pig in fennel, garlic, rosemary and salt and pepper, similar to how the Italians prep porchetta.
Cracking Crackling
And then there’s the all important crackling. Friend of the romantic poets Charles Lamb was certainly a fan. In A Dissertation Upon a Roast Pig, Lamb writes: “There is no flavour comparable, I will contend, to that of the crisp, tawny, well-watched, not over-roasted, crackling.” He’s not wrong. “Our recipe for crackling is very straightforward,” Warlow says. “We ensure the pig has a good level of fat under the skin, which we then score – this allows the heat to get under the skin. Before cooking, we dry the skin and apply liberal amounts of Malden Sea Salt.”
Once the hog is cooked, it’s time for carving. “Cooking a whole pig isn’t the most sophisticated cooking technique but there are definitely tricks that ensure everyone gets a lovely piece of meat,” Warlow says. “Firstly it’s good to remove the excess fat by scraping a knife over the meat after the crackling has been removed. The difference cuts of pork also have different levels of juiciness – I always carve the loin and leg first as this is the leanest meat and can dry out if left too long and from there I carve the shoulder and belly which has a lot more fat and is more resilient to drying out.”
The art of carving the hog also adds to the theatre. “Roasting the pig where people can see it is a great attraction to draw people in, even if people are not willing to purchase they are fascinated by the process,” Reed says. “We have taken the roaster to such a variety of different events from festivals to weddings and street food markets to corporate hire and we always get the same unique reaction when the hog is taken out and carved in front of them. It’s a winner every time!”
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