Saturday's bookends: A bike ride to Printer's Row book fair w/ friends ending with a pig roast in Evanston. My grandfather's pig roast was an annual event. Or so I hear. Lechon: Puerto Rican's edible beast of choice. By the time I was born, la familia had become pork-free compliments of a religious conversion. I will eat a BLT and can't resist a good potsticker, but I still won't tuck into a chunk of pork even though I lost my religion long ago. Habits become preferences? At a fundraiser yesterday (ICE at Longman & Eagle) a waiter passed by our table with platter of mini sliders — pulled pork w/ a creamy slaw — and I took one and ate it and it was good. I was on my third cup of bourbon punch and needed a food sponge. I loved taking pictures of the pig but had no desire to fix myself a plate. It's a pix of the monstrous beauty variety, isn't it Rose?