I wasn’t going to talk about the delivery of the pig, but I must. Let me begin by repeating that Belle Meade provided a wonderful pig, and stating that I understand how the following comedy occurred.
My biggest concern for the weekend was where to store the pig between its delivery and cooking. There are few worse sins than ruining food through incompetence, and while I could visualize the prep and cooking, I could not wrap my mind around what happens between delivery and preparation. (Have you ever had to worry about where you’d stash an inconvenient carcass?)
While our fire company kitchen has 2 standard refrigerators, it was no sure thing the pig would fit without damaging something. I decided that if the refrigerators wouldn’t serve, I’d arrange folding chairs in our shower and pack the pig with ice. (This would not make me popular with any member who wanted to actually take a shower, but sacrifices must be made.) Compounding my stress was that the fire hall was rented for Saturday night while deliver was set for 6 p.m. on Saturday.
The good news is that the pig fit in the refrigerator. The bad news is that the pig arrived 24 hours early.
OK – so I had to stash the pig in the refrigerator for 2 days instead of one, no big deal right? Well if you read Sylvie’s Busy Weekend post, you’ll notice that we had a small event (29 for dinner) starting at six o’clock on Friday night.
At 6:03 pm our driveway chime announces first guests, and ten seconds later the phone rang. Sylvie continued to meet our guests, while I turned around to answer the phone. On the phone was Ann, my fire chief, telling me that ‘the pig’s here!’ Ann handed me off to Michael of Belle Meade who was making the delivery. After sputtering to Michael about being early, I asked to talk to Ann – at which point my pager went off and things got real loud on Michael’s end of the phone. Not only did Michael’s early arrival coincide with our first guest, it also coincided with an emergency call. I now had 3 things competing for my attention – guests, Michael alone at the fire house, and the emergency call. I really hope that when I ran past Sylvie shouting ‘the pig’s here,’ none of our guests took offence. I could have used my red lights when I drove to the firehouse – there was a call after all – but I didn’t.
Coming: Pig Roast – Part Three “The Pit/ Day of The Roast”