For a pig roast, they ditch spit and adopt box

FRANKLIN - Stephen Wasik always wanted to roast a pig. He suggested it for his grandson Miller's christening this spring, but the idea was nixed by the new mother, his daughter-in-law Stefani Wasik, and by his wife, Carol. Nothing about it - especially the pig turning on a spit in the backyard - appealed to the women.

Then Wasik heard a radio segment in which grilling expert Chris Schlesinger, owner of East Coast Grill & Raw Bar, described a special box that cuts the cooking time for a whole pig to about four hours, or roughly one-third of the traditional open-fire roasting time. Wasik, who owns The Cheese Shop in Wellesley with Carol, Googled his way to the item and found La Caja China (pronounced la KA-hah CHEE-na). The name means Chinese box, and it's manufactured by a Cuban-born Miami businessman. Wasik bought one for himself for Father's Day.

With the box parked in son Brian's backyard, the family was game to try out the contraption. Their second party featuring a pig took place on a recent beautiful Sunday afternoon. The animal, a smallish 30-pounder that Brian, 31, had butterflied and secured to the enclosed rack, cooked in 3 1/2 hours. For the final 30 minutes, the pig was flipped right-side up, the skin scored to help it crisp and drain of fat. "We were kind of skeptical at first," says Brian. Because the meat is cooked in a box instead of over a smoky fire, he says, "We assumed it would steam the pig." The family, all hearty eaters, were impressed with the tender, moist meat and crisp skin they got both times.

Schlesinger, who has owned one of the boxes for more than five years and has been roasting pigs for decades, is enthusiastic about La Caja China. "It's the easiest way to cook a whole pig," he says on the phone. Boxes cost from about $300 to $330.

The feast held at Brian and Stefani's home in Franklin included more than half a dozen side dishes, which lined an outdoor table. Guests sat on bales of hay and sipped fruit-soaked sangria and minty mojitos made by Brad Wasik, 25, the youngest of the Wasiks' three children. Daughter Chrissy Boudreau, 34, visiting from Portland, Maine, with her husband, Jean Paul, and their two tots, brought a chunky smoked-trout-and-avocado pate, which she stuffed into cherry tomatoes. Stephen made his late father's recipe for Manhattan-style clam chowder, as well as sliced zucchini pickles and a creamy potato salad seasoned with cilantro.

Meanwhile, the box, made of plywood and lined with aluminum, took center stage. It sits on two wheels and has two stationary legs, so it's like a wheelbarrow, and can be rolled around and stored easily. Covering the top is a metal ash pan and charcoal grid, which is replenished hourly. "The heat radiates directly down, like an upside-down oven," explains Schlesinger. In Louisiana, he says, there's a similar cooking technique that's called "a Cajun microwave."

La Caja China's inventor, Roberto Guerra, says that he and his father started building the roasting boxes 20 years ago for the south Florida community. "It's a Cuban tradition to roast a whole pig for Christmas," he says by phone from his office near Miami. They fashioned the boxes after his father's memory of those used by Chinese immigrants in Cuba. Boxes come with detailed explanations to roast perfect meat every time, he says.

And that was the case for the Wasiks. They followed the instructions to the letter and feasted on moist meat - along with a buffet of other dishes.

Brian Wasik, who acknowledges he's "a bean lover from way back," simmered his famous baked beans in a Crock-Pot and whipped up a batch of "big blue slaw" made with red cabbage, a sweet-vinegary dressing, and crumbled blue cheese. Chrissy's cast-iron skillet cornbread, to which she added grated cheese and creamed corn for moisture - "It was Brian's idea," she says - was a big hit, with a pleasing gritty texture and corn flavor. Carol Wasik baked her family's favorite upside-down apple cake. "It's the reason [Stephen] married me," she jokes.

And if that wasn't enough, one guest brought a huge jar of pickled shrimp and another contributed two kuchen, German plum cakes.

The pig may have been the reason for gathering friends and family, but the sides stole the show.

"The pig is almost secondary," says Stephen Wasik. A shocking admission from a man who finally got his long-awaited wish.

For information on the roasting boxes, go to lacajachina.com.