HLM -Chapter 774 Barbecue and Ice, Everything Thrives

Bowen gave a short introduction afterward, saying that the “Peace Pig” was also known as the “Char Siu Pig.” Like the “Peace Chicken,” it was the main dish for Christmas Eve dinner.

However, unlike turkey—which was the Christmas Eve delicacy for every Western household—the Peace Pig was a tradition unique to certain towns in Texas. And this “char siu” had nothing to do with Chinese char siu, because Texans literally roasted suckling pigs by spearing them with metal forks!

“This is our Texas traditional Christmas Eve dinner dish. On that day, the whole sky over Texas fills with the aroma of smoked meat,” Bowen said proudly.

“From bricklayers to mayors, from janitors to bank presidents—every family in town barbecues a Peace Pig in their backyard. It’s amazing—marinated in cumin, garlic, and lime juice for a day, then roasted over a bonfire…”

“Alright, alright, I’m not doing it that way,” Wang Bo interrupted him. “Since you’re such an expert, come over and marinate the pork for me. Make sure the lemon juice really soaks in—I don’t want the meat tasting gamey when it’s cooked.”

The deputy mayor had been in the middle of his sentimental speech, so being cut off left him a bit displeased—but for the sake of a delicious dinner, he held back.

The suckling pig was to be roasted whole, but Wang Bo wasn’t having that—the pig still weighed eighty pounds even after being cleaned up. If they roasted it whole, the outside would burn before the inside was cooked.

He cut the meat into chunks, built a fire pit in the courtyard, lit the grill, and shouted, “Beer, guys! Bring out the beer! The battle begins!”

“Yeahhh! Battle time!”

Bottles and cans flew out one after another. Conley caught one, cracked it open, and downed half of it in one go. “Awesome!” he yelled.

“This is called—爽! (Shuǎng! Refreshing!)” Atulu shouted, holding up his now-empty can.

“Welcome, Officer Conley and Mr. Tatak, to the castle! Tonight’s grand Castle Barbecue Feast officially begins!” Wang Bo announced with a booming laugh.

“Woohooo! Long live!” The crowd roared in response.

The pork was rinsed in diluted lemon juice, then scored with knife cuts to let the seasoning soak in before being laid on the grill.

Bowen was busily making the sauce in a little stone mortar, pounding together garlic, salt, pepper, and cumin.

“What are you doing?” Wang Bo asked curiously.

“Making the sauce,” Bowen said with a grin. “At the end, I’ll mix it with lemon juice. Brush it on the pork, and I swear you’ll eat till you lose your tongue!”

Wang Bo spread his hands. “Sorry, buddy, I think I’ll keep my tongue. I’m making honey-glazed pork—sweet-style barbecue!”

“Sweet?” Bowen frowned. “That won’t taste good. No one likes sweet barbecue.”

Wang Bo turned to Atulu. “Hey, Officer, do you like sweet barbecue?”

Atulu nodded hard. “Boss, I love it!”

Bowen huffed. “That’s cheating! Even if you made sweet poop, he’d say he liked it!”

“Atulu, do you like sweet poop?” Wang Bo asked.

“Boss, I feel insulted!” Atulu said indignantly.

Wang Bo pointed at Bowen. “Blame the deputy mayor—he’s the one who said it.”

Bowen: “…”

When the pork fat began to sizzle, Wang Bo dipped a small brush in honey and carefully spread it over the meat.

The pale golden, viscous honey formed a glossy transparent glaze that reflected the firelight—a brilliant red glow flickering across it.

“This is art!” Conley exclaimed.

Eva walked over and asked, “Darling, what would you like to drink?”

“Beer,” Wang Bo said matter-of-factly.

Eva shook her head. “No, I mean a cold drink—the best partner for barbecue.”

“Yeah! Barbecue and cold drinks are a perfect match,” Conley said, laughing. “Robert Frost once said, Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. I think that’s perfect—barbecue and ice, fire and ice together!”

The group of rough men stared at him like he was an alien. “Who’s Robert Frost?”

“A poet,” Elizabeth explained. “One of the most popular American poets of the 20th century. He used to be a shoemaker, a teacher, and a farmer in New England. He drew inspiration from rural life—a fascinating poet.”

Conley nodded. “That’s the one.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Didn’t expect you to like Frost. I thought New Zealanders wouldn’t be into that kind of rustic poetry.”

Conley smiled back. “In college, I double-majored in classical literature and modern poetry, so I know a bit about it.”

“Wait, didn’t you major in criminal investigation?” Juan asked, winking at Kidd.

Kidd, helpless, scratched his head. “Robert, huh? I remember there’s a Robert at the Oak City police department. Also, isn’t the mayor of Tahiti named Robert? That old fool—heard he’s not doing too well lately, hahaha.”

Everyone stared at the young man like he was an idiot.

Eva whispered to Wang Bo, “If Conley’s interested in Elizabeth, Kidd doesn’t stand a chance.”

Wang Bo gave her a worried look. “Honey, why do I get the feeling Conley’s a total lady-killer? How do you feel about him?”

Eva shrugged, not answering directly. Instead, she called out, “Hey, Conley.”

The handsome officer walked over, puzzled. “What’s up?”

Eva suddenly moved—her toe tapped Conley’s knee, making him wince and instinctively lift his leg. Then she crouched and made a sweeping-leg motion—though she didn’t actually follow through.

She stood up and apologized, “Sorry! Just demonstrating something for Wang.”

Conley, ever good-tempered, waved it off. “No problem—just startled me for a second.”

When he walked away, Eva winked at Wang Bo and smiled charmingly. “See? He’s not my type. He’s too soft. I like a man who can hold me down.”

Wang Bo felt an almost primal urge to pounce on her right there—but too many people were around.

Eva didn’t give him the chance; teasingly laughing, she walked away, saying she’d go make desserts and cold drinks.

The weather had warmed, and barbecue did call for something icy to go with it. “Cold drinks” here didn’t just mean beverages—they included frozen pudding, chilled coconut jelly, and ice cream too.

There was an ice cream machine in the kitchen, and soon Eva came out carrying a large tray of rainbow-colored scoops. She smiled. “Perfect match for our rainbow honey, don’t you think?”

“Wow, amazing! I knew something was missing—barbecue without ice cream isn’t complete!” Kidd exclaimed dramatically.

“Exactly. Besides beer, nothing refreshes you like ice cream does—even next to blazing flames,” Conley agreed.

Wang Bo spread his hands and sighed. “Conley, you should’ve been a poet, not a cop.”