As the sun rose over Flat Point Farm in West Tisbury on Sunday, so did the smell of a pork dinner. It was an odd time of day for it. Amid the quiet of the dawn, the bees visiting the wildflowers and the birds flying about a vacant field, there was the sound of sizzling and a small cloud of smoke coming from a large black steel box, hot to the touch, with a thermometer dial on the door reading 325 degrees. A pig was roasting.