I had to pick up something for dinner, and I do love to stop off at the Chinese BBQ for a savory delectable to treat myself. Since I had the crispy duck last time, I chose a lovely slab of roast pork, lechon to those of the filipino persuasion. Tender roasted juicy belly pork whose skin has been left on and seared with oil to a crispy char. Think of a really juicy pork chop with a crispy pork-rind edge.
I saw a rather large two pound segment of pork and thought… that should be plenty. I asked the gal behind the counter and asked her to weigh the piece and asked how much it was. Obviously too much for two people, I knew I’d have to ask for it to be cut down. Unfortunately for me, but fortunate for the proprietress, there was construction going on in the vicinity. When I asked that I’d like a little more than half, a grinding cacophony of metal and wood drowned out my voice and all she heard was “more”. Before I could correct her, she slapped the piece of pork she just weighed on the counter and proceeded butcher a second piece of pork. Now my order was twice the size of what I had originally asked for. I don’t know if I was being sympathetic to the small-business owner, but I decided to let it slide. What’s a fat kid to do with two kilos of roast pork? I’d say have a party.