[Pigging by Wilfrid: June 3, 2010]
It seemed a good idea to drop by this East Village farm-to-table hotspot again, especially as experts had advised that I'd underrated it somewhat.
Not a lucky choice of night, though, although I got a (very dark) table right away.
I wanted to revisit the pig's head terrine, which is just an excellent dish. After that I thought I'd try a different preparation from their weekly Fleisher's half pig.
No. Sorry. Pork belly night again. No - not the pork belly! Really, I can't eat pork belly any more.
The restaurant boasts breaking down the demi-porker and serving parts of it through the week, but doesn't commit to a listing of daily specials - which would tell the diner, among other things, how to avoid the pork belly. Of course, an even bigger disadvantage in shopping for whole (or half-whole) animals is that the variety on the menu is starkly limited. Smaller purchases of lamb or beef, say, or a duck or two, would benefit the diner. Not the farmer or the meat supplier, true, but the diner.
Well, I didn't want the roast chicken plate, so I had a chicken sandwich - a witty construction which pairs the bird with its egg, over easy (or more likely another bird's egg) so that when you bite into the good, firm bread roll, the yolk makes a dash for freedom. It is quite unlike the conventional chicken sandwich, which features breast meat (or reconstituted breast meat), usually sliced and served cool. The leg meat is slippery, chunky, and has some crisp skin attached. A chimichurri sauce adds an acid accent.
Not bad. Not a destination sandwich. Kind of inclined to think I could make it at home, but that's just big-headed me.