I read the article on the Chinese Box method of roasting a pig in a
recent Post Food section. I'm thinking of cooking a roast pig at a big
family reunion and I'm investigating various methods. What other
methods are possible and practical?
Well, you could sequester a live pig in your house and
burn it down, as in Charles Lamb's classic essay, "A Dissertation Upon
Roast Pig." Ah, but you said "practical," didn't you?
I don't often write
about cooking per se, but this is really a scientific question about
how to put a lot of heat into a lot of pig. If I may lapse into
geekspeak, it's an exercise in the transmission and absorption of
thermal energy. (Can you think of a less romantic way to talk about
cooking?)
The Chinese Box, as you may recall, is a
sheet-metal-lined plywood box in which you place the pig; on the steel
top, you pile hot coals. It was invented by a Cuban American man named
Roberto Guerra Sanchez, who, as the owner of a small restaurant in New
Jersey, was intrigued with the American broiler or salamander, in which
the source of heat is above, rather than below, the food being cooked.
Several years of experimentation led him to invent the "Chinese Box,"
or Caja China (CA-hah CHEE-na) in Spanish, which combined the
broiling method with an enclosure reminiscent of the pit in which
Cubans traditionally roast pigs and other large meats.
But why "Chinese"? It's just a joke, having nothing to
do with China. In Cuba, anything intricate or ingenious is referred to
as Chinese or Chino(a). A seriously ill person, for example, is said to
be beyond the help of even un médico chino, or a Chinese doctor.
Hence, the roasting contraption was dubbed la Caja China.
Placing the hot charcoal above instead of below the
food may strike you as counterintuitive, because heat rises -- doesn't
it? Well, not exactly. It's not heat that rises; it is hot air that
rises through cooler air because, having expanded, the hot air is less
dense. Hot air carries its burden of heat to higher elevations by the
heat-transfer mechanism known as convection. (A convection oven
supplements the vertical transfer of heat by fanning the hot air in all
directions, so it contacts all sides of the food and speeds the
cooking.)
But the Chinese Box doesn't cook by convection; it
cooks primarily by radiation. Infrared radiation is pure radiant
energy, emitted in all directions from everything in the universe
except black holes, which presumably are of minimal concern at a
backyard barbecue. The metal lining of the Chinese Box reflects the
infrared radiation throughout the enclosure, like microwaves in a
microwave oven, so all surfaces of the pig are heated, not just its top.
Infrared radiation is often called heat radiation, but
it isn't heat until it strikes an object whose molecules absorb it and
turn it into heat by becoming more agitated. That's what heat is: the
agitation of molecules. I prefer to call infrared radiation "heat in
transit" -- radiant energy, sent out at the speed of light from one
object to another, where it receives a literally warm welcome.
Let's look at the thermodynamics of other ways to
roast a whole pig, hog or, in some places, hawg, by barbecuing,
barbequeing or BBQ-ing it, no matter how we spell it.
Different cultures, notably Hawaiian, Cuban, Italian
and Puerto Rican, have their own traditional ways of roasting a whole
pig. (When I lived in Puerto Rico, I frequently stopped at one of the
roadside, glass-enclosed carts selling pieces of lechón asado,
or roast pig. I always asked for un pedazo tostadito, a crisp
piece of the wonderfully toasted skin, to be hacked off by el patrón
with his machete.)
The best pig-cooking methods involve either a pit or a
spit. (Indoor ovens are disdained by true barbecue buffs.) In the pit
method, the pig is first butterflied, whereas in the spit method it is
roasted whole-hog.
The traditional Cuban method begins by building a
roaring charcoal fire in the bottom of a rectangular pit or dugout.
When glowing brightly, the coals are raked out of the center into the
four corners of the pit. The pig is then centered on some kind of grid,
so as not to be directly above the cornered coals. It is thus out of
the path of vertically rising hot air (convection heating), but is
still bathed in infrared radiation from the coals. The objective is to
cook it more slowly than if it were placed directly above the coals,
because slow cooking produces tender, juicy meat. The Chinese Box is
essentially a portable pit, sold to Americans who would prefer not to
dig pits in their lawns.
On a spit, the pig is rotated continually in front of
a wood or charcoal fire, but never directly above it unless one wants a
pink pig in a black blanket. Again, because the meat is not directly
above the fire it cooks primarily by radiation. In slow barbecuing, the
surface heat from absorbed infrared radiation has plenty of time to
work its way into the meat by conduction. Conduction is the third way
in which heat can be transmitted, in addition to radiation and
convection.
How does one serve a whole pig? At a party in Puerto
Rico, I watched as the famous singer Lucecita Benitez wielded a machete
to reduce an 80-pound lechón asado to plate-sized portions. It was
great fun when she handed me the machete to take a few whacks of my
own, during which time I utilized my hacker's perks to snatch a few
choice pedazos tostaditos.
Robert L. Wolke is professor emeritus of chemistry at the University of Pittsburgh. He can be reached
at wolke@pitt.edu.
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