And This Little Piggy Went Wee-Wee-Wee …

It has been a busy week, so I’m just now catching up on some posting. I have been in the kitchen almost nonstop since last weekend filling in for two of our cooks, who were both in La Ceiba on the mainland. I usually enjoy cooking, but cooking three meals a day—all from scratch—gets old. And hot. Especially on a tropical island.

We knew our cooks would be gone, and it was only supposed to be Kevin and me, so it didn’t originally seem like much of a problem. I would just cook up some easy meals to keep ourselves fed. However, Ike threw us a curveball.

Our guests from the previous week were supposed to go home on Saturday. They were scheduled to connect through Houston. But Houston closed its airport. And Continental didn’t do anything to rescue its full plane of people stranded on Roatan. Continental flies only one flight each week this time of year (the very slow season), and they stuck to it. Our guests couldn’t find any reasonably priced alternative to get home, so they stayed another week. And I had to cook all the meals.

However, I did get one reprieve. Monday was Honduras’ Independence Day. To celebrate, Oak Ridge planned a parade of all its schools’ marching bands. BJ planned a pig roast. I wanted to see both. In the end, we missed the parade. (Apparently, they started at 7 in the morning so the poor kids wouldn’t die marching in the hot sun.) But we did eat some pig.

BJ and Carmen did a great job, but they didn’t plan quite as well. They started the pig in the oven and intended to finish it on the grill. However, when they transferred it outside, they quickly realized the pig wouldn’t fit. So they cut it in half. Still too big. Then they broke off its legs. That worked.

It was delicious, and I didn’t have to cook. I was a happy camper.