Are we talking about the same thing?

I turned on the radio on my drive home from work. One of the interviewees was saying something along the lines of "it's the sort of thing that's so difficult that students wait years before feeling worthy enough to attempt it" and "it's epic" and "there are points where you have to keep your cool." Turns out he was talking about Beethoveen's 32 sonatas. Apparently they represent a distillation of Beethoveen's because it was where he struggled over new work and tried out new ideas that went into his great symphonies. The cool thing about the interview was how the description of tackling the sonatas is how I see tackling some of the great climbs. You have to train to be worthy. They're epic. They require much of you. They can represent fulfillment. They reflect their creators.

A Whole Hog Lotta Learning

The Idea

So Theresa asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday and actually, without much thought, I decided that I wanted to cook a whole hog and have a whole bunch of people over to eat it.  I knew one of my co-workers, Sue, owned a Caja China, so I knew I had the most important hardware.  And I had a dozen or so cook outs, so I had a decent experience under my belt.  So game on!

Meat and Butcher

So Sue mentioned that she always got her hogs from Latella's farm up in Orange, CT.  I was about to give them a call when I passed Craft Butchery on my way down to the train station.  Turns out it had literally just opened its doors the day before.  I walked right in and asked the guy behind the counter, "do you think you'd be able to get me a suckling pig?"  And says, "yup, we certainly can."  And we get to talking about my plans and he gives me all sorts of advice about logistics.  He offers to lend me his cooler so I can do the brine - a pig big enough to feed my crowd is going to be bigger than what my coolers will fit.  He tells me what to expect from the Caja China.  And he explained what happens before the pig actually arrives in my hands -- slaughtering it, removing guts, hanging it to bleed out and dry.  And when I finally arrived to pick up the pig, he says, "I would have prepared it for ya, but I figured you might want to participate" and he invites me behind the counter to butterfly the pig and do some minor cleaning.  I'm really psyched to find a butcher willing to invest the time educating me.  We're now on a first name basis, he's Ryan.

Hardware (read: "toys")

Nothing fancy here:

• Caja China
• Stoker - 2 meat probes and 1 pit probe
• Ash Can
• Fire Place Gloves
• Shovel to clean the ashes and manipulate the goals
• Coal chimney
• 150 quart cooler
• Injection needs

Nice having most of the implements.

Choices, choices!

Well, this was the most painful part - deciding how to cook this bad boy.  I did quite a bit of reading on this.  Googling "caja china suckling pig" yielded this recipe.  But I also wondered whether I should go to my Filipino roots and cook up some lechon. But in the end, I decided to stick to my comfort zone, Memphis style dry rub and a modified injection of apple cider, molasses, sugar, and sriracha.  For a little variation, I decided to add the brine and glaze from the first recipe.  I think Filipino litson is next on the list -- I really want to find out what's up w/ the star anise and lemon grass.

Prep

So I picked up the pig Thursday night and got it on ice.  Friday, I whipped up 13 gallons of brine with 6 cups of Diamond kosher salt and 2 cups of white sugar (in retrospect, a pretty diluted brine solution).  But no biggie - I was trying to be on the cautious side, as oversalting was one of the only ways I could really screw things up.  Saturday night, I got home from Per Se and Sik Gaek around 11p a bit tired, but in an hour I had the injection together and the rub all mixed up.  A few hours later, injection was in the swine (not enough, as it turns out) and the rub all in the inside of the cavity. I was a bit tired, but I wanted to google more about what an expected cook time would be.  Interestingly, I've found the Caja China online presence dramatically less compared to the Egg or Weber Smokey Mountain. You get random blog entries here and there, but nothing compared to the daily cook reports on the latters' forums.  In any case, I came away w/ the impression that I should expect something like three and a half hours for a pig my size.  In bed by 2:00AM, alarm for 8:00AM.

Onto the fire

Got up around 8am along with Luke.  Dad Cheng helped me extract my pig from the cooler and onto the racks.  We manipulated the S-hooks to get the pig all secured and set it into the box.  I arranged all the Stoker probes.  I fired up the coals in the chimney starter -- 14 lbs in all.  In no time the coals were all aglow.  And in no time, the pit probe was reading well above 350 and on its way to 400.

And now the waiting

So by 1p, the temp in the shoulder and ham was still at 145, so not even into the stall.  I knew this did not bode well for an ontime delivery.  What I did not anticipate was how much longer still it would take.  So to make a long story short, almost 4 hours later - 7.5 hours from start time - and 65 lbs of coal later, the pig reached 170 in the shoulder and ham.  And not without some drama - at one point, my meat probe read 637 degrees fahrenheit.  Not good - it had actually caught on fire.  I was miserable - I thought I'd wrecked the pig.

Anyway...

But miracles of miracles, when I cut in the skin, it was crispy and TASTY.  And when I brought the bear claws to bear on the meat underneath...oh so tender and pullable.  So not a bad affair!  I was so relieved.  And butchering the whole pig took the better part of an hour but was really fun.  It was great to see all the parts of the pig.  The long strands of the tenderloin.  The crazy fat in the cheeks and jowls.  The surprising amount of fat in the ear drum. The white meat in the ham.  Of course the fat in the shoulder.   What a great day!

Lessons

• Get the damn pig to room temperature.  It takes forever to cook otherwise and the outside will get charred in the process
• Don't be afraid to let the temp get in the 400's
• Make more injection, probably a gallon to be safe
• Make sure to move the coals around when crisping the skin to avoid fires and char
• Prepare a whole table covered in foil on which to cut the pig
• A young pig has more milk fat, so it hasn't taken on as strong a "pig" flavor

Abraham, the 10th Plague, etc: now I get it!

As a youngin, in Catholic school and in listening to the scriptures at Mass, I'd heard the story of God commanding Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac to prove his loyalty  Now while it struck me as a bummer, I think I generally equated it to God telling Abraham to kill his pet dog.  I figured, "what's the big deal, he can just make another son."  But 16 months into the raising of my own son (25, if you count incubation, although most of the work was Theresa's to be honest), I can now say I understand the profoundness of what was going on there.  Actually, to not mince words, I can now say without reservation - that is some fucked up shit.  I mean, who the hell pulls a stunt like that?  From an objective standpoint, I actually wonder what the the outcome of the test indicates.  Loyalty?  Really?  How about blind faith?  Cowardice?  Hell, where's Abe's loyalty to his children?  And his wife and all those who put their blood, sweat, and sleep into raising the child?  I suppose it does tell God what to expect from the test.  But then you have to wonder whether by conducting the test, he has now guaranteed that ole reliable Abe will now do his bidding the next time God asks him to do something fucked up.  Of course, given that God is all-knowing, you could say that the test was not for God's benefit.  It was for Abe's (and the rest of humanity).  In other words, God's providing a little hint as to where we stand in the grand scheme of things.

But I digress.  My original point had to do with how parenthood has helped me understand the true gravity of what was going on in the Bible, and, for that matter, in all of history.  The 10th plague of Egypt where God killed the first born sons.  That's not just a bummer.  That's a serious number of grieving parents.  You better believe that Pharaoh's poll numbers are going to drop.  Now, anytime I see a scene in a movie where a kid is separated from his parents - man, that resonates with me big time.  It's unthinkable to imagine the pain of forcibly breaking the bond.

I can now imagine what that's like.  And it's mind boggling.

Definition: scenicism

An expectation that something scenic is only such because of someone's mal-intent.

Cousins

Just noticed the similarity in pose and expression between the two cousins.  Wonder if all babies do that.

Three makes a costume

A co-worker remarked that my cowboy boots and mustache were pretty sweet, but why not wear my cowboy hat, too?  My thinking is that 2 out of 3 is authentic; the third would make it a costume.

San Sebastian Memories

Just a rapid fire list of memories from our quick trip to San Sebastian this May 12-16.

• Berasetegui
• Foie, eel, apple, and onion sauce
• Ed dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a mohawk, and mustache
• Luke deciding he wanted to wander around the restaurant
• Asking the chef to make Luke a puree (and getting a culinary dish that Luke puckered his face upon tasting)
• Vigonier that smelled like Luke's diaper
• Taryn almost yacking up the chef's signature dish and not being able to finish other fish dishes, causing a stir from the waiters
• Hake jowls
• Fried sole
• San Sebastian
• Luke face planting into the beach and emerging with sand all over his face
• Kalimotxo in the plaza at 11 pm while feeding Luke
• Potato sticks, poached egg, aioli pintxo
• Climbing to the top of the hill overlooking the city
• Jamon iberico - la paleta
• Mugaritz
• Hot stones
• Hot sommelier
• Coffee in the shade
• Bilbao
• Guggenheim!
• Churros, freshly fried, with hot chocolate
• Parking lots electronically track when a spot is taken so you can scan down an entire row to look for a green light signaling a free spot.
• Plaza Nueva as a playground, with parents standing around sipping wine and chatting, while the kids kicked soccer balls or jumped rope.
• Street party all over...except it's not a special occasion; just Friday.
• Luke crying desperately as we get lost trying to leave the city
• Pamplona
• Taryn trying desperately to figure out 5 important, non-obvious turns to get us from the highway to Etxauri
• Etxauri climbing!
• Taryn making it up a climb
• Ed thinking he was on a 6a when he was on a 7a+
• Searching for the orange bull shirt in vain in the few souvenir stores open
• Mari Jesus bar - great food, chill atmosphere, lots of kids around
• Comments from locals on Luke
• "Que moreno"
• "Que guapo"
• "Que bonito"
• Comments from locals on Ed's mustache/mohawk

Photography In Paris

While watching Last Tango in Paris I noticed that Marlon Brando was walking along what appeared to be the same bridge in Inception that Leonardi DiCaprio and Ellen Page walked along when Leo was introducing Ellen to shared dreams.  Didn't think much of it, but while in Paris in February, Virg and I managed to sneak out for a run along the Seine.  I had the concierge look up the bridge and after some internetting, she determined it was the bridge Bir Hakeim that was our target.

So we ran down there.  I thought to bring the iPhone to snap some photos and while in the act, I noticed a fellow doing the same so politely stepped out of his frame.  But he approached me and explained that he was doing a little street shooting and wanted to see if I'd like to be shot.  I said of course.  And here's what he produced.

Really great photography.  And it was such a breath of fresh air to get off the tourist beaten track a little and meet fellow travelers.

Wiry Hair

As I was explaining to my new barber, Ron, that my hair was very wiry and had a mind of its own, I was reminded of how Mom used to cut our hair in the back yard.  One spring day, we discovered that a robin had built a nest in the oak tree out back using our hair.  Imagine a jet black nest up in the tree!  The robin must have been watching the hair drop to the ground, lying in nice neat bunches and said to itself, "jack pot!"

Climbing with a sense of urgency

Yesterday I logged some good air time working a 5.11b/c. Last season I think I can count the number of climbs I did where I took a fall. That means I didn't push my limits.  So I'm making a point of getting on climbs that force me off.  "If you ain't flying, you ain't trying."

On a related note, I noticed that when I travel, I tend to climb harder stuff.  Granted, in some cases the continuity of climbing does create that rhythm and burst of fitness that let's me climb harder.  But I think a big part of it is that I realize that if I don't jump on that 3-star climb now, I probably won't get another chance in a long while.  So I don't waste any time hemming and hawing.  At the home crag, that doesn't exist, so it's so easy to whisper in your head that the climb will still be there when you come back "stronger" or "more prepared."  I'm going to make a point of climbing like it's my last chance to climb.