Scenario: Fifty people are coming over to your house or military compound and you must feed them; you are having a party. While there is a certain amount of grace within the pastoral aesthetic of the furnished patio–arranged just-so in the warm, safe glow of an even-cooking gas grill amidst a yard replete with croquet set and parasols–there are simply times when one must hearken the howling, distant age of barbarians. If your guests are common ravenous carnivores and crave only the Grogs and the Meats, then this is one of those times.
Solution: The Ancient Pit. This method of cooking an entire beast will allow you to nourish the bloodthirsty conquering horde and secure your place in Valhalla. It is recommended you start this process early in the day as it takes quite a while.
What You’ll Need: One “luau pig” as they are called, which weighs a little under 50 pounds and is available at Gartner’s Meats (7450 NE Killingsworth) for 160 bucks. If you want beef instead, it’s possible to order a front or rear quarter, referred to as locker meats, for a reasonable price per pound: between $1.75 and $2.15 per. Either way you’ll probably qualify for free delivery, which comes with any purchase over $100. Woohoo! It’s also advisable to obtain a large quantity of beer at this point for obvious reasons. You may as well make it a keg. You’ll need some simple raw materials too, such as bricks or stones, chicken wire, burlap, and banana leaves. “Where do I get banana leaves?” you ask. They are readily available at many Vietnamese groceries and are inexpensive. This stuff is needed for prepping both pit and pig. If you can’t get everything, don’t sweat it. This is an improvisational art form. You will need a lid, though (plywood or sheet metal are both fine). Next, gather as many friends and shovels as you can muster, because it’s time to dig a hole to China.
The Pit: You and your shovelers must now dig. You need to make a hole that is about four or five feet deep and of a reasonable diameter. The bigger the beast, the bigger the hole. Once you’ve dug the pit, make a bed of stones or bricks and line the walls as well. Do not use chunks of cement or other porous rocks, as they often explode due to trapped moisture from the heat. River rocks or bricks are best. Now build a large fire in the pit and feed it with enough hardwood to make a glowing bed of coals about one foot deep. Orchard wood is nice too, like cherry or apple.
The Beast: Assuming you’ve gotten this far, you now have a bed of glowing coals in a pit. Congratulations! It’s time to cook. Make a couple of layers of wet banana leaves right on top of the coals. Season your beast with coarse rock salt and pepper if you must–but plain is good, too. Next, lower the beast or beast part into the hole using the chicken wire or similar material, and cover it with damp burlap or muslin. If cooking a whole animal, it’s advisable to place some hot stones in the stomach cavity just to be sure it’s cooked through and through. It’s also possible to add vegetables at this point–but what are you? A stinkin’ hippie?
Now put a lid on your hole, cover it up with enough dirt so that not much smoke or heat escapes, and wait. You now have six to eight hours to kill and nothing but a keg of beer, a ravenous horde and a smoldering hole. Hmmm. You might want to designate a large person or persons suited to the marathon groggery as your meat retrieval team; you have a substantial investment at this point.
The Feast: Once you have waited the proper amount of time (And please do. Trichinosis is no laughing matter.), you’re ready for the feast of a lifetime. Pull off the lid, hoist your animal, lay it out luau-style and dig in. It is unlikely that your barbarous brethren will soon forget the bounty of your table.