The Shake Shack-theme park behind center field filled with soggy fans, who stuck it out for the eventual 9:05 p.m. watching highlight reels from the 1969 and ‘73 seasons on the Diamond Vision (including one very surreal image of Tom Seaver shaking hands with Richard Nixon).

And up in steerage, the so-called “Promenade” deck where tickets can be had for the pittance of $25 bucks, the stadium throws the masses a bone, sort of literally in the form of a second Blue Smoke behind home plate (with another in the aforementioned theme park behind Center Field). This is also where Brooklyn Pilsner, easily the best beer to be had in the stadium, is available on tap. The specialty of the casa, though, is pulled pork. And by 7th inning the only smoked meat left in the park was the Phillies players. Blue Smoke reported that it was all out of pork, and Big Pelf dominated to such an extent that we predict that he will become the first Met to toss a no-hitter.

The sweep of the Phillies in which the Mets staff did not allow a run was the first such sweep by the Amazins in more than 40 years (the ‘69 world champs were the last to do it). Who can blame the Mets fans for celebrating their run? In the last week their team has made the Yankees and Phillies look as hapless as those rivals have a tendency to make the Mets look. So they left their stadium delirious, singing, chanting, jeering Philly fans, and quite full of pork.

If you are in or around Des Moines and looking to feast on some pork use the discount code “LLS” to get $20 off admission when you buy tickets here, or get GA at the door for $75.

After this round the Cochon makes just four more stops (DC, Seattle, Portland and San Fransisco) before landing in Aspen on June 20 for the Grand Cochon where each regional winner will compete and the ultimate winner will be decided. We’re still putting our money on Blue Hill’s Adam Kaye in Aspen, but Matt Jennings of Farmstead looked sharp in Boston.

And watch the video from the Boston Cochon where Jennings was crowned Prince of Porc below if you want to get psyched (and we, do mean psyched — the clip features the type of generic driving guitar interlude generally reserved for football highlight shows — and  at 19 seconds a guy cuts a pig in half.)

The specific day is Wednesday afternoon. Watch Cochon’s Twitter and Facebook for updates on the time. We can only imagine the chocolate bar will definitely contain fried pork, and may even contain your pass to Cochon. Yes this golden ticket is better than Willy Wonka’s.

This year the battle moves to Pier 60, from its surprisingly comfy home at Hiro ballroom, where last January Fatty Crab’s Corwin Kave took top honors. This time around he’ll be fighting under the Fatty ‘Cue mantle — and the restaurant may even be open by the time the competition comes around this year.

Kave will have his work cut out for him in defending his “Prince of Porc” title: The competition is fierce and this will be a contest to be watched. The winner of each Cochon is chosen by a panel of 20 judges, with a separate people’s choice winner determined by popular vote (which, in our opinion, allows chefs to stack the judges’ plates and save the most daring constructions for them, though most abide by gentleman’s rules of conduct and strive for equal representation on both sides of the table). The winner will go on to compete in the Grand Cochon against the winners from other cites.

This is the toughest field of chefs we’ve ever seen at a Cochon. There are a lot intangibles at play, though. The winner is not always the one with the most stars, or the best knife skills, or most time spent playing in the mud at farms. Herewith, the Butcher handicaps the odds on this year’s Cochon New York.

Corwin Kave, Fatty ‘Cue
Kave has his title on the line here and will bring all he’s got. The Fatty team is behind him as evidenced by the crew proffering the Tiger Special (Tiger beer, shot of whiskey, shot of pickle juice) to those who show support for their chef in the Cochon. Fatty ‘Cue has been in development for what seems like forever, so Kave has had his fair share of practice on the whole hog — what amounts to a solid year of training (and word is it’s paid off) — all of which gives him an excellent shot at repeating.
Odds: 3-1

Mark Ladner, Del Posto
Ladner is making a return trip to the Cochon and was barely edged out last year by Kave in a tightly contested battle for porc prowess. He must have been itching for a rematch after seeing the burly Crab crew take the stage last year, PBR cans in hand. The refined and reserved Ladner somehow made his bones in Batali kitchens, so he surely brings an interesting mix of brass and artistry to his work. As reserved as Ladner seems on the outside, he also has an edge to him. The fires of revenge, coupled with his kitchen craftmanship, could put him over the top.
Odds: 5-1

Adam Kaye, Blue Hill at Stone Barns
We must preface this by saying that Dan Barber’s Blue Hill at Stone Barns is one of our favorite restaurants and one of a very few reasons we can find to go up to Westchester. Kaye, who comes from a long line of butchers — his great-grandfather was a butcher and his grandfather ran a butcher-supply shop — began working in the kitchen at Stone Barns 10 years ago as the “meat cook” and worked his way up to chef. A lot depends on what pig he’s assigned (this has not yet been determined), as he’s most familiar with working with the Stone Barns house-raised Berkshire. If he pulls the Berkshire it could be a walk.
Odds: 5-2

Gavin Kaysen, Café Boulud
We’re not sure about this one, to be honest with you. For starters, Kaysen has been on television, which is a little suspicious. And he told Food & Wine, in his 2007 “Best New Chefs” interview, that spoons, his favorite kitchen tool, are “like the ultra-utility knife.” Hmm. It’s hard to believe that a man who came to fame as a chef at El Bizcocho, a restaurant in a golf resort and spa in California (the land of fruits and nuts) and thinks that spoons are like knives stands much of a chance of prevailing here. Though he certainly has the chops and could pull off an upset.
Odds: 10-1

Dickson’s Farmstand Meats has got just the pig skin you need to properly enjoy the spectacle of large men hurtling their bulks in the quest for shiny rings:

Cracklins of course, and heritage-bred pulled pork by the bucket. You can do no wrong stopping by and picking up a bucket (yes, a bucket — $30 a half gallon and $55 for a full gallon) of fresh-prepared smoked pulled pork. It’s Dickson’s first foray into prepared foods. And now that the kitchen is humming and the smoker’s a’smokin the timing could not be better. And the point-after attempt? All buckets come with buns enough from Amy’s Bread across the hall.

The roast wasn’t in the sprawling 3rd Ward space, but outside in a long narrow alley adjacent, with a band set up at one end and the real rock star of the moment, Mylan, at the other end (though on further consideration, he may be more Mike Watt than Morrissey). People crowded around a window in a hallway overlooking the carving space to get a look at Mylan performing, assisted by chef Eric Sherman and a Mexican (which we say only because he wore a T-shirt that read “Mexican!”). Sherman seemed most uncomfortable chopping and dicing the hot porcine slabs, while Mylan sliced and carved, seemingly oblivious to all else, and the Mexican made fast work of pounds of pork at a time.

The process was surely one of the most well-documented pig roasts in the history of pig roasts. 3rd Ward is, after all, an artists collective and work space, and the members seem to have a new father’s urge to record every second of activity in every possible way. A reporter with a notebook seemed to be taking down Mylan’s life story while he waited to remove the pig from the smoker. A camerawoman with headphones slid in out of corners around the work station.

One eager fan placed her head uncomfortably close to the pig’s face just inches away from where Mylan’s blade flashed. He grinned at the fan’s friend who was preserving the moment for posterity (and in that split-second you could be forgiven for worrying that a human ear would soon join all the piles of pork flesh).

All manner of photogs with snazzy long-lenses snapped away from every angle. One woman got out an old wooden accordion camera and set up her tri-pod across from the pig, splayed out on its wire mesh with Mylan lording over it and took what was sure to be an appropriately old-timey portrait.

All of this activity isn’t even beginning to count all the iPhones and camera phones flashing through the windows and in the alley. One imagines Mylan as an old man, long forgotten and walking down the steps of his dilapidated brownstone after holstering his assortment of knives: “Mr. DeMille, I am ready for my close-up.”

After what seemed like more than an hour’s labor the tacos were for sale to all. They came simply — small piles of pork cubes plopped on tortillas with little more embellishment than a few shreds of lettuce. The line for a taste stretched up and down the long alley and snaked into the building, a seemingly hopeless case, except for the helpful addition of trays to service the back of the line with one taco per person, a while-you-wait taco, if you will.

And into this screaming chaos walked another star of the fatty food culture: Zak Pelaccio, whose Fatty Crab team took the top prize at Cochon 555 in New York a few months ago. Pelaccio strolled in, resplendent in white slacks and a Hawaiian shirt, took one look at the line and pork tacos bedecked with wilting lettuce.

“This is just going to make me mad,” he sniffed, and turned and walked out the door.

Then the rains came and washed all the pork grease away, dousing the squealing crowd, the chefs, Mylan, the band’s instruments and all of the waiting open and barren tortillas. Everyone rushed to cover the pig and food and the buckets of prepared pork, but the rains came hard and everything except spirits was considerably dampened.

But no matter what, the commercial is actually worse.

But, says the Times story, “Smithfield’s global approach is clear”: Chairman, Joseph Luter III, has described it as moving in a “very, very big way, very, very fast.”

The three owners of Feast in Houston, Tx.. two British ex-pats and one of their wives, got matching pig tattoos on the occasion of their one year anniversary. The restaurant, highlighted by Frank Bruni in the Times as part of a series on recent restaurant openings the Brunster deems important around the country, is a fierce advocate of nose-to-tail cooking in an unlikely location. While Texans are known to enjoy their meat, they are surely less famous for noshing on pork cheeks, haggis, rabbit’s liver and lamb tongue. They now have the opportunity to enjoy all of the above, and often, says Bruni, on any given night. And the restaurateurs are not out to serve bull testicle for the sake of slapping a testicle on the plate; they make every attempt to justify their being in Houston by sourcing locally — even if the style is far from it.