When we left the guild, the sky was painted in gold and crimson. My legs felt like they'd been replaced with jelly, but my heart was lighter.
I had income coming, Tweety had dinner secured, and for once, everything didn't feel like it was about to explode.
"Not bad for a day's work," I said. "We actually look like professionals now."
"Indeed," Tweety said, glowing faintly. "Tomorrow, we will feast."
I grinned. "And maybe, finally, I can buy salt and rent in the same week."
"Prioritize seasoning."
"Yeah," I said, chuckling. "That's fair."
As we walked back toward our rented inn, the butcher's words echoed in my head:
'Reminds me of a fella I met once… came with a Fenrir…'
For the first time, it really hit me:
I wasn't just in another world.
I was walking in the same footsteps as the guy from my favorite anime.
And honestly that was both awesome… and absolutely terrifying. I really wanted to see Mukoda-san. Why? I wanna be friends with him as fellow Earthians and of course to buy something. I was so excited to meet him.
The butcher promised our cuts tomorrow, but Tweety wanted his "celebration meal" tonight and specifically from the two-headed pig he'd claimed.
So… whole roasted pig it is.
Lechon. It was the only food available on my menu. For a pig twice the size of a cow, it is the only way I knew to cook it.
I've only ever eaten it once but, my high blood pressure increased when I first tasted it. It was delicious especially if the pig was freshly butchered. Though I never cooked one, this is my chance to cook now.
I knew it would be hard to skewer something as large as this boar but I got a phoenix. He'll help me effortlessly.
Ingredients & Gear (Dolan edition)
For a large whole two headed boar we need the following:
1 cleaned two-headed pig (…we'll use the better head side; the other will be broken down later)
2 kilo Sun-salt (rock salt, I spend a night pulverizing it) (unsure)
1 kilo of Black pepper pods, crushed
1.5 litter of Soiya extract (their soy-sauce equivalent)
1 litter Sourvine (a mild local vinegar) or cider vinegar
½ kilo of Sweet-sap (unrefined sugar)
3 bundles of Lemleaf (lemon grass analogue),
2 kilo of Clovy garlic, smashed
2 kilo Oniyon, quartered other's whole
1 kilo of bruised ginger root knobs (optional but great)
5 large Banana-like river leaves (for lining / resting)
I litter of Emberseed oil (reddish oil; think annatto color + neutral fat) for basting
Long spit/rod + trussing twine/vine
A mountain of hardwood charcoal
A large fat bamboo griller as a cradle, plus two forked logs as supports
Tweety hovered, watching with very judgey, very golden eyes.
"Proceed, John. My flame shall not assist. Only my appetite."
"Thanks," I said. "That… somehow makes it scarier."
Step-by-Step Lechon (John's field method. What I just remembered)
1) Dry the skin (the secret to crackle)
Pat the pig completely dry, inside and out. I rubbed sun-salt all over the skin, then left it to air-dry on river-leaf mats for 45–60 minutes while I prepped the fire.
2) Mix the marinade & basting glaze (two bowls)
Bowl A Marinade (for the interior):
Half litter soiya extract
Half litter cup sourvine
10 tbsp sweet-sap, dissolved
5 tbsp crushed black pepper
15 smashed clovy garlic
1 hand-sized ginger, crushed (optional)
Bowl B – Baste (for the skin while roasting):
Half litter emberseed oil
20 tbsp soiya extract
10 tbsp sweet-sap
A cup of sun-salt
(Stir until glossy; the emberseed gives that classic bronzy-red.)
3) Aromatic stuffing (the perfume)
Into the belly cavity: big bundles of lemleaf (bruised to release oils), oniyon quarters, more garlic, and a few ginger chunks. Splash some Bowl A inside. Don't flood it, just coat.
4) Truss it tight & mount the spit
Close the belly with twine. Skewer the pig lengthwise with the spit, center it so it balances, then tie the legs snugly to the rod so nothing flops.
Tweety circled, critical.
"Symmetry aids even heat."
"Noted," I said, re-tying the back legs.
5) Build a charcoal lane (indirect heat)
I raked coals into two long beds on either side of where the pig will rotate, leaving a trench of no coals directly beneath. This gives high, even radiant heat without dripping fat igniting flare-ups. Add a few small logs to maintain a steady, medium-high glow.
6) First roast: set the skin (no basting yet)
Rod on. Slow rotation. 20–30 minutes just letting the skin firm and dry further. You want it to tighten and turn pale golden before any oil touches it.
Crackle whispers began—tiny pops. I swallowed. This might actually work.
7) Begin the baste cycle
Every 10–12 minutes, brush Bowl B (emberseed glaze) lightly across the skin while rotating. Thin coats, don't drown it. After each basting, sprinkle a pinch of sun-salt from high above so it snows evenly.
Keep the coals hot but not raging. If the skin darkens too fast, rake coals farther away; if it stalls, push coals closer.
Add small logs at the sides, never under the fat drip line.
Tweety inhaled appreciatively.
"The air tastes delicious."
8) Midway check & interior scent boost
At about 1.5 hours (your beast may vary, this one's… generously sized), I paused the rotation, tilted the snout slightly upward, and ladled a bit more Bowl A into the belly to steam the aromatics. Back to turning.
9) The glass-skin phase
Once the whole body reached deep golden with lacquered sheen, I switched to pure emberseed oil basting, paper-thin layers every 8 minutes for the last 30–40 minutes. The skin began to blister into a glassy crackle; the sound was like raining sugar.
10) Doneness without a thermometer (field cues)
Skewer-test: insert a clean skewer into the thick hind. The juices ran clear and smelled sweet-savory, not raw.
Joint jiggle: ankles and shoulders had a gentle wobble.
Skin tone: deep bronze-red, evenly blistered, no black patches.
Total time for this… "half a monstrous pig": ~2 hours 10 minutes, with my charcoal lane. Your boar may bully you longer; keep it patient.
11) Resting (don't skip!)
I lifted the rod onto a clean forked stand and let the lechon rest for 20–30 minutes. Skin stayed shattery; juices settled back in. I brushed a last whisper of oil for shine.
Tweety hovered, eyes positively heart-shaped.
"This scent… it calls the sun to sit and listen."
12) The carve (festival style)
Crack open a panel of skin first, chicharrón sheets for the impatient (Tweety).
Slice shoulder and belly in thin, long ribbons.
Drizzle with a quick dip: soiya + sourvine + sweet-sap + black pepper.
Lay pieces over river leaves to keep steam and scent.
I bit in, shatter, then silk. The fat had rendered into sweet, savory butter; the meat was juicy and perfumed with lemleaf and garlic; the glaze carried a gentle caramel and a whisper of smoke.
Tweety landed beside the platter, perfectly polite for exactly one second.
Then he tasted.
His feathers flared.
"Fire made flesh. Salt that sings. Skin like dawn's armor,crisp, then yielding. This… John, this is a feast kings would trade crowns for."
I laughed, breathless, relieved.
"So… pass?"
"Ascendant," he said simply, and kept eating.
We shared until the stars came out, me carving, Tweety composing poetry between mouthfuls. Tomorrow we'd pay the butcher, collect the rest, and maybe just maybe, sell portions to the guild for coin.
Tonight, though, it was just us, the forest's hush at the edge of Dolan, and the kind of lechon I'd only ever dreamed of tasting, much less cooking.
For a guy who "can't cook," I was starting to think my Master Chef skill had decided to carry me one perfect crackle at a time.