It was a Calvin Trillin moment.
He writes about his strategy of finding dinner in a strange town by driving around with the car windows open and sniffing for grill smoke. The many successes that he cites give you hope and inspiration. But in the back of your mind there is always this nagging feeling that you’ll never be so lucky.
Yesterday, I got lucky.
Went to the Treasure Island on Ridge Road, just north of Lake Street, in Wilmette. Had to buy lots of olives and herbs and fennel and habaneros to make two kinds of olive mix for the LTH picnic. Pulled into the parking lot around 12:30 and caught a whiff of something wonderful. Turns out, they had a rotisserie going, with a 30-pound pig turning ever so slowly and looking beautiful.
Dan, the Market Manager, and Bill, the Deli/Meat guy, explained that they have been doing this for the past few Saturdays. In earlier weeks they did lamb and this was the first pig. They plan to do it each Saturday until the weather gets colder, probably for another month or two. End-of-grilling time is planned for ~1:00,
After another two-and-a-half hours of cooking – during which I never left the premises – they brought the pig inside, all crackly-skinned and smelling prettier than a prom date. By now, my original request for five pounds of finished product had grown to ten pounds (I hadn’t had lunch; I was helpless). We now have a third of a pig in the fridge and a lot of plans for eating it.
As I walked behind the pig on its way to the cutting saw, two things occurred to me:
1. I should look this good when I die.
2. At my eventual demise, I only hope that people will think of me with as much fondness as I have for this pig.
That’s one way of knowing you’re an LTHer.