Slow-Roasted Pork

     I almost titled this "Baked Boston Butt," but I didn't want to freak out the robots.  Last week, I ordered a replacement for the inexpensive oval enamelware roasting pan I ruined last year when I let the turducken go a little too long.  The meal was fine but there was a thick layer of baked-on stuff in the bottom of the pan and I admit it, I gave up: after twenty-four hours of intermittent soaking and scraping, the prospect of laboriously removing the yeech, layer by layer, when I could be doing other and more interesting things, was too off-putting.  I threw it away.

     Shopping for replacements, considering various options, eventually prompted the software at a big online retailer to offer me an exact replacement at a few dollars off.  The pan arrived in the middle of a streak of hot weather and our neighborhood grocer had Boston Butt at a good price.

     Yes, the name's amusing, isn't it?  It's an inexpensive pork roast, shaped and tied with one of those stretchy meat nets.  I got one that was about three pounds, ten ounces and set it to marinate the night before.  I used equal parts apple cider and balsamic vinegar, plus a good slug of soy sauce, garlic powder and powdered ginger, just bagged up the whole thing in a gallon freezer bag with enough to cover the meat and let it soak.

     The next day, I build a fire in the grill, using hardwood kindling and lump charcoal, with some balled-up strips of newspaper to start it.  You want a good bed of coals and plenty of them.  There's a trick to this; I'll get to that later.  I use a cheap grill and high-quality charcoal.  You can use a fancier grill if you like but don't make up for it by using cheap charcoal briquettes, and start it without accelerant.

     I drained the marinade and improvised a rack in the bottom of the pan with a couple of stainless-steel forks.  You get better results if you can elevate the meat a little -- my turducken disaster was partially caused by not doing that.  I set the roast in place and snipped away the net.  You don't have to do that, but the net contributes nothing to the taste and is more difficult to remove after cooking.  Last thing on is the lid of the pan -- it's a good seal but not airtight; a little smoke will seep in.

     Now the secret: slow roasting requires indirect heat.  I used a spare stick of kindling to push the coals to the sides of the grill's firebox, leaving a gap in the middle a little wider than the roasting pan.  Then I set the actual grill surface in place, put the pan over the gap and closed the lid.  With no coals right under the pan, it heats evenly.  I count on an hour per pound, so I set a timer ("Alexa! Three hours and forty minutes." "TIMER SET.  THREE HOURS AND FOURTEEN MINUTES." "...") and set additional ones every hour to keep track.

     I peeled a medium-sized turnip and an apple, cut them in one-inch chunks, sprinkled a little smoked paprika and herb mixture on them, and added them to the pan after it had been going about a half-hour.  This is also a chance to center up the roast and ensure it is surrounded with vegetables.  I also laid a couple of pickled Piparra peppers on top of the roast, with the tops removed.  I took my time cleaning and cutting up a good-sided fennel bulb, a couple of big radishes cut in thirds and a large baking potato in one-inch chunks, adding them a little more than an hour in and following with a large white onion, cut into eight wedges.  By then, there was plenty of liquid in the pan and things were looking nice, the meat golden-brown and smelling wonderful.

     At the three-hour mark, I tried the meat thermometer: over 200°F, anywhere I tried.  Pork's done at 170°F, so it was ready.

     Brought the pan in, closed up the grill and set up the cutting board as the pan cooled a little.  When I lifted out the roast, it began to fall apart.  That's a good sign!

     The onion, fennel bulb and radish were translucent; the potato had picked up a little color, the turnip even more, and the apple sections were cooked to mush -- and it was delicious.  The vegetables were especially good; I hadn't treated radishes like a regular root vegetable before, but now I wish I had done so sooner -- the flavor of spicy and complex, and went well with the rest of the dish.

     One Boston Butt
     One apple, peeled and cut into chunks, whatever kind you like.  I used a Cosmic Crisp.
     One medium turnip, peeled, etc.
     Two pickled peppers (optional) for atop the roast.
     One fennel bulb, washed and cut into pieces.  I only used the bulb and a few fronds; the stems are woody.
     Two or three fat radishes, tops and bottoms removed, cut into chunks.
     One large baking potato, washed and cut into chunks.  I don't peel them unless they're greening; there's a lot of flavor in the skin and supposedly nutrition, too.  This is a matter of personal taste.
     One large onion, cut into eight wedges.
     Cook one hour per pound, checking with meat thermometer.
     Marinate pork overnight in a 50/50 mixture of cider and balsamic vinegar with soy sauce, ginger and garlic, enough to cover the meat.  Discard marinade.