Before we go full smokehouse on this thing, let’s get something out of the way: not everyone likes wild pork meat. Plenty of hunters treat feral hogs like targets for pest control and little else—something to contribute to the local buzzard society. Fair enough. The meat's got a reputation for being gamey, tough, or just plain weird. But done right, wild pork meat has a flavor profile that’s bold, primal, and downright memorable. You might not make it your weekly staple, but it’s something every hunter ought to try at least once.
Why Wild Pork Meat Deserves the Lechón Treatment
You didn’t haul a hog out of the brush just to let it sit in the freezer forever. Wild pork meat is one of the most underrated rewards of hog hunting. It’s leaner, richer, and a whole lot more satisfying than store-bought pork, especially when you know how to cook it right. One of the best ways to get the most out of that meat is lechón.
Lechón simply means "roasted pig" in Spanish, but the word carries a lot more weight depending on where you’re standing. In the Spanish and Latin American tradition, lechón usually refers to a suckling pig or smaller hog slow-roasted over coals and marinated with citrus, garlic, and herbs. It’s bright, acidic, and all about crispy skin. In the Philippines, lechón tends to be bigger, stuffed with lemongrass and aromatics, and served with a sweet-savory liver sauce. Both methods aim for juicy meat and crackling skin, but they get there in very different ways. For our example, we'll focus on the Spanish-style lechón, although there are many others.
This style of cooking was how pirates, Vikings, and knights of yore celebrated a victory or feasted before battle. Whole-animal roasts over fire are as old as warfare, and there’s something deeply primal and satisfying about watching a hog spin slowly over open flame. It’s a method that demands time, patience, and fire—and anyone who wants to feel like a man should try it at least once.
Choose the Right Wild Hog for the Spit
Not all wild pork meat is created equal. If your hog looks like it eats roofing nails and bench presses tree stumps, it probably won’t taste like Sunday dinner. For lechón, you want a hog in the 20–40 pound range—a small squeaker, roughly the length of two or three footballs end to end. You’re looking at something about 24 to 36 inches long, small enough to manage solo but big enough to feed a whole crew. It’ll still take up most of a standard cooler or the length of your grill, so plan accordingly. These are the ones that give you the best results when it comes to juicy meat and crisp skin. They're usually the small, inexperienced hogs that come nosing around a feeder first.
A good optic like the Sightmark Presidio 1-6x24 is more than accurate enough for precise shot placement on an unwary oinkling. One clean shot with an intermediate cartridge, minimal meat damage, and a whole lot of flavor on the line.
After the shot, approach the hog quickly but carefully to confirm it’s expired. Make a small incision at the base of the throat or behind the jaw to sever the carotid arteries and jugular veins, letting the blood drain out completely. Position the hog so gravity helps—head downhill if possible. The quicker you bleed it, the less blood remains in the meat, which greatly improves the flavor.
Once bled, get that hog cool fast. In warm climates, you’ve got a limited window before spoilage begins. Gut the hog as soon as possible. Start by laying it on its back and making a shallow incision from the base of the sternum down to the pelvis. Be careful not to cut too deep—puncturing the intestines or bladder will foul the meat fast. Once the cavity is open, use your hands or a knife to carefully free the internal organs. Start with the stomach and intestines, then move to the liver, lungs, and heart. Sever the esophagus and windpipe as high up as you can reach and pull everything out in one controlled motion. Cut away any remaining connective tissue, then rinse the cavity thoroughly with clean water or a saltwater solution to remove any blood or residue. Afterwards, pack the body with ice. A cooler or tarp-lined truck bed with ice bags will do the trick.
Unlike most wild pork meat recipes that call for boning out shoulders or trimming the hams, lechón is a full-body roast. That means the head stays on. The legs stay on. You’re not breaking it down into neat little cuts—this is a whole-hog experience. Not only do the extremities add visual drama to the roast, they help keep the hog stable on the spit. And for those who know what they’re doing, the cheeks, jowls, and crispy ear tips are some of the best bites on the animal.
Field care is what separates wild pork meat worth roasting from a stinking, fly-covered regret grenade. Take it seriously.
One thing many first-timers miss: wild hogs have scent glands—small, dark, waxy nodes located near the back legs, flanks, and sometimes the shoulders. If you cut into them during processing, they can release a musky, gamey odor that taints the surrounding meat. These glands should be identified and removed carefully during butchering. If you're not sure what they look like, do your research ahead of time or ask someone who’s processed a few hogs before. Trust us—you don’t want that flavor anywhere near your lechón.
Scalding: The Key to That Extwa Cwispy Skin
Want that shatter-crisp skin? Scalding is non-negotiable.
Yes, you already know a hog is full of hair. But lechón isn’t like most recipes that get rid of the skin entirely. This is a skin-on dish—crispy, golden, brittle skin that crackles under your knife. And that means the hair’s got to go. Scalding softens the follicles so the hair can be scraped off clean without damaging the skin beneath.
Set up a large metal drum or trash can, but don’t fill it all the way right away. Instead, first place the raw hog into the empty drum to gauge displacement—see how high the water will need to rise to submerge most of the body without overflowing. Then remove the hog, fill the drum up to about two-thirds based on what you observed, and leave at least a foot of clearance from the top. When you dunk a whole hog in there, the water level will rise fast, and the last thing you want is scalding water spilling over the edge onto your boots.
Heat the water to around 150°F using a propane burner, turkey fryer setup, or even a wood fire underneath. You’ll need a reliable thermometer to keep the water from getting too hot—above 160°F and you risk cooking the skin instead of loosening the hair. Keep the heat source steady, and stir the water occasionally to distribute temperature evenly. Once the hog is cleaned and bled, dip it in the hot water for 3–5 minutes. You’ll know it’s ready when the hair scrapes off easily. Use a knife or scraper, but go easy—you want the skin intact. It’s the whole point.
If you don't want to go into the effort of building a scalding setup in your backyard, heat a very large pot of water to a boil and use a ladle, small bucket, or large metal cup to pour the boiling water over the hog in controlled sections. Pour slowly and deliberately, starting at the shoulders and working your way back. The goal is to soften the follicles just enough to release the hair without cooking the skin. After pouring, wait 10–15 seconds and test a patch of skin with your fingers. If the hair rubs off with mild pressure, it’s ready.
Use a dull scraping instrument—like the back of a knife, a metal paint scraper, or a farrier’s hoof knife (not the sharp side)—to scrape the hair off. Scrape with the grain of the hair in short, overlapping passes. Don’t gouge or dig into the skin—you’re preserving it for that final crisp. Work in sections, reapplying hot water as needed to stay ahead of the cooling skin.
A note about the bullet wound: scalding obviously won't erase the impact or exit site. If anything, the hot water will loosen up dried blood and tissue in that area, making it easier to clean later. If the shot was clean and well-placed—say, behind the ear or through the lungs—the damage should be minimal. But if the wound is messy or ragged, expect it to become more visible after scalding. That’s not a problem as long as you trim around it when prepping the carcass. The hair will still come off clean, and the surrounding skin will still crisp up just fine.
Butchering Your Wild Pork Meat for Lechón
With the hair off, you’re now ready to prep the hog for roasting. The internal organs should already have been removed when it was shot, so focus on trimming any remaining connective tissue and rinsing the cavity again for good measure. Give it a thorough wash with a saltwater rinse or mild vinegar to make sure everything’s clean and ready for marinade. If you’ve got time, brine the whole hog overnight in a cooler with citrus, garlic, bay leaves, and salt to deepen the flavor.
Mojo Marinade for Wild Pork Meat
This ain’t Kansas BBQ. Spanish lechón is about that mojo (pronounced MOH-ho)—a Cuban-style marinade packed with sharp, savory citrus and bold aromatics. It’s made from sour orange juice (or a mix of orange and lime), garlic, oregano, cumin, salt, pepper, and olive oil. Think of it like the savory marinade cousin of the mojito—they share that bright citrus backbone, but instead of mint and sugar, mojo brings the heat with garlic and herbs. Inject it deep into the meat and pour the rest over the skin and cavity.
Let it sit overnight if you can. Wild pork meat loves a long soak.
Build the Spit. Don’t Overthink It.
You need a spit strong enough to hold the hog, and a way to turn it over hot coals. A length of steel pipe or thick rebar (at least 1 inch in diameter) works great. Make sure it's long enough to extend a foot or more past each end of the hog so you have room to mount or turn it. Sharpen or bevel one end to help it slide through the carcass if needed.
Run the spit through the hog from mouth to rear, staying close to the spine. You want the body centered to maintain balance while turning. Use wire, heavy-duty twine, or butcher's cord to secure the legs to the pipe—tie front legs forward and back legs backward to minimize wobble. Also loop wire around the spine and pipe in several places to lock it down tight.
To support the spit, build two upright posts using cinder blocks, angle iron, or Y-shaped wood posts driven into the ground. Make sure they’re spaced far enough apart to give the hog clearance over your coal bed. You can rest the spit in V-notches or drill a hole into each post to cradle the pipe securely.
Balance matters. Before you start the fire, test the spin. If it turns smooth and steady, you're good to go. If not, adjust the hog’s position or your ties until it's centered. An uneven spin will wear you out fast and ruin your cook.
Now, if all that sounds like too much work—if you live in a suburban zip code and don't want your neighbors calling the fire department—you can technically roast the hog in an oven. But let's be honest: it's not going to be the same. The skin won't blister the way it does over coals, and you'll miss out on the smoke, the spectacle, and the bragging rights. Just know what you're giving up before you go that route.
Roast Low and Slow
Keep the fire steady at around 250–300°F. Charcoal or wood is fine—mesquite and oak add killer flavor. Expect a 6–8 hour cook time for a medium hog. Rotate the hog a quarter turn every 15–20 minutes if you're doing it by hand. If you have a motorized spit, aim for a slow, steady turn, basting with the mojo marinade as you go—roughly 2 to 3 RPM is ideal. This keeps the wild pork meat cooking evenly, prevents flare-ups, and helps the skin crisp uniformly on all sides. Don’t walk away for long—open fire cooking takes attention and adjustments throughout the roast.
If you’re using an oven, preheat it to 275°F and set the hog on a rack in a large roasting pan. Cover the ears and tail with foil to keep them from burning. Roast uncovered for 5–7 hours depending on the size, basting with rendered fat or marinade every 30–45 minutes.
For the last hour, crank the heat up to 400°F and stop basting—this helps the skin dry and crisp. You won’t get the same blistered texture as a fire roast, but you’ll get closer than you think.
Serve It Right
When it’s done, the skin should crackle under your fingers. The meat should pull apart in tender, juicy slabs. Serve it with rice, plantains, tortillas, or just a cold beer and a dumb smile.
If anyone asks what it is, you tell them: it’s wild pork meat. "Shot it myself. Cooked it all day. Crispy as hell."
From Scope to Spit: Wild Pork Meat the Sightmark Way
You already know we make tools that find the hogs. But if you ask us, the job’s not done until the wild pork meat hits the plate. Lechón is just one way to honor the animal, the hunt, and the time you put in.
When it comes time to eat, tear into it like you mean it. Grab a cleaver or sharp knife and slice through the crispy skin first—that’s the crown jewel. Then go for the shoulders and hams, where the wild pork meat will be richest and most tender. Don’t skip the cheeks or belly fat; that’s where the real depth of flavor lives.
As for sides, keep it simple but solid. Cuban-style rice and black beans, tostones (fried plantains), or even buttered corn on the cob all pair great. A vinegar-based slaw adds some bite to cut through the richness. And for drinks? A cold pilsner, crisp lager, or smoky mezcal won’t steer you wrong. If you’re leaning tropical, a good rum or even a strong mojito fits the theme.
Got your own spit-roasting setup? Share it. Tag us. Let’s see who’s making hogs extwa cwispy this season.
