So, I’d been hearing about this “chancho al palo” thing for a while. Saw some pictures, you know, a whole piglet, splayed out on a metal cross, roasting over open coals. Looked pretty epic, I gotta admit. And me being me, I thought, “Right, I’m doing that.” It’s just how I am, see something cool, gotta try it myself. Not enough to just watch a video, nope.
Getting Started with the Piggy
First things first, needed a pig. Not just any pig, a small one, a cochinillo, or something close. Went down to my usual butcher, old mate Tony. He looked at me funny when I told him what I was planning. “You’re gonna do what now?” he says. But he sorted me out. Got a nice little fella, about 10 kilos. Perfect.
Then, the ‘palo’ itself, the cross. I looked into making one. Watched a few videos. Seemed like a lot of welding and grinding, and honestly, my welding skills are, let’s say, basic. Found a place online that sold them pre-made, food-grade stainless steel. Click, buy, done. Easier that way, sometimes you just gotta pick your battles, you know?
The Prep Work – More Than I Thought
Alright, pig arrived, cross was ready. Now for the marinade. I kept it simple. Lots of salt, coarse ground pepper, a good handful of crushed garlic, some smoked paprika, and a bit of cumin. Some folks inject it, brine it for days. Nah. I just made a paste with some olive oil and rubbed that little piggy down, inside and out. Got into all the nooks and crannies. Then wrapped it up and let it sit in the big cooler overnight.
Next day, the fire. This is where the real work begins, or so I thought. Cleared a spot in the backyard, away from anything flammable, obviously. Used some old bricks to make a pit. Got a good pile of lump charcoal and some decent hardwood logs. The idea is to cook with embers, not raging flames. So, you gotta start the fire early, let it burn down to glowing coals. That takes time.
Showtime: The Actual Roasting
Mounting the pig on the cross was… an experience. It’s a bit like wrestling a very slippery, very raw piece of pork. You use wires to tie the legs and spine to the metal frame. Gotta make sure it’s secure, otherwise, disaster. Took me a good half hour of fiddling and tightening. My wife came out, took one look, and just shook her head, smiling. She’s used to my projects by now.
Then, over the coals. Started it skin-side away from the heat first, to cook the inside nice and slow. You plant the cross at an angle. And then you wait. And you turn. And you manage the fire. This isn’t a set-and-forget kind of deal. Not at all. Every hour, sometimes more, I was out there, rotating the pig, shifting coals around to make sure it cooked evenly. Added more wood to keep the ember bed going.
It was a long day. Six, maybe seven hours it took. The smell, though! After a couple of hours, that smoky, porky aroma started wafting through the yard. Neighbors probably wondered what on earth I was up to. One of them, Mr. Henderson, did peek over the fence. “Having a medieval feast, are we?” he joked. I just grinned.
The Payoff – Crispy Skin and Juicy Meat
The last hour or so, you flip it skin-side towards the heat to get that beautiful, crispy chicharrón. This is where you gotta watch it like a hawk. It can go from perfect to burnt pretty quick. I was aiming for that deep golden brown, bubbly skin. And man, when it started crackling, I knew we were close.
Finally, it was done. Carefully took it off the cross. Let it rest for a bit, covered loosely with foil. This is important, lets the juices settle. Then, the moment of truth. Started carving. The skin shattered like glass, exactly what you want. The meat underneath? Unbelievably tender and juicy.
We had it with some simple sides – a bit of salad, some roasted potatoes I did on the side of the pit. Everyone dug in. Silence at the table for a good ten minutes, just the sound of happy chewing. That’s when you know you’ve done good.
Things I Learned, Because You Always Learn
Was it worth it? Absolutely. It’s a lot of effort, no doubt. Not an everyday meal. But for a special occasion, to bring people together? You can’t beat it.
- Next time, I’ll probably start the fire even earlier. Getting those coals just right takes patience.
- And maybe I’ll try a slightly different wood for smoking, just to see. Cherry, perhaps.
- Also, wear gloves when you’re wiring the pig. Those wires can be tricky.
So yeah, that was my adventure with chancho al palo. A bit of work, a bit of waiting, but the end result? Pure, delicious satisfaction. If you’re thinking about trying it, I say go for it. Just clear your schedule for the day!
