Nor’easter – Day 4

The air is still cold. The sky still gray. But reservations were made a week ago for an outdoor Pig Roast at Rye Tavern—which lies at the end of a dirt road. A too muddy dirt road, I fear.

The weather was forecast to be clear. Someone forgot to tell Mother Nature; her Nor’easter is still with us, although the winds have died down and the bay is calm. We breathe damp air not wet, and there is supposed to be a heated tent. When I place my foot in the car to go, I am wearing four layers and two scarves. I think I’ll manage.

Rye Tavern’s Annual Pig Roast

We Arrive

The dirt road is wet, but it is so hard-packed that sloppy mud, it isn’t. We pass by a parking lot full of cars and turn into the main entrance, finding a parking place very near the heated tent. We wander through the crowd, noticing small groups scattered here and there, sitting at the outdoor bar, clustered around any one of the many fire pits, or playing some type of lawn game.  

A smiling employee greets us with, “What perfect timing! The pig is almost ready to come off the grill, maybe 10 minutes or so.”

She also tells us where to pay for the pig roast and to be sure to get our total of 6 free drink tickets. I order a red wine, Michael has a beer, and we head for the heated tent to listen to music till it is time for the great pig unveiling.

We Eat

Sitting here, we happily listen to the kind of music we hear in the Texas Hill Country. I guess C&W is universal, even in New England, especially at a Pig Roast at centuries old Rye Tavern.

The chef comes into the tent telling us the pig is ready! Grab a plate, get some sides and then stop by the table near the roasting pit and get some delicious fire roasted pork.”  

He doesn’t have to tell any of us twice. The music stops while we all stand in long line and begin loading our plates. I am totally curious about all of the dishes, so I put a little of everything on my plate, from cornbread to rolls, from butter to share, and cranberry sauce. I add a green salad garnished with beets, greens cooked with rounds of sausage, black beans, creamed kale, macaroni and cheese, and finally succulent, moist slices of roast pork. 

Michael tells me he has everything I have on my plate, but because he avoided the cranberry sauce and we are sharing the large scoop of butter, he has room to add a piece of fried chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy. And he ignored the lettuce with beets.

The food is delicious. The pork, tender. Even the room temperature sweet cornbread is good; the crunchy crust making it perfect. We drink cranberry margaritas to wash it all down. Dessert is not served, thank goodness. Many people go back for seconds. Michael opts for more roast pork.

We Explore

When our plates are cleaned, and the six drink tickets gone, we leave the warmth of the tent and explore the grounds before piling in the car. We take twisting, curving country roads back into Plymouth.

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