[Pigging by Wilfrid: October 13, 2008]
Don't panic - it was the sandwich which was naked, not me.
And although this is a silly story, it has a happy ending.
Porchetta, which opened around the beginning of the month, and got a big warm-fuzzy hug from New York magazine''s Underground Gourmets, is a tiny sandwich bar on the busy strip of 7th Street just east of Tompkins Square Park.
Sara Jenkins, apostle of mid-level Italian rustic from I Coppi through 50 Carmine to Mangia, is the name behind the food. According to my research, the name behind the management is Matthew Lindemuller, and I know nothing of his pedigree.
On my first attempted visit, one sunny Sunday afternoon, I found the door open and people inside. I briefly admired the bright, tiled interior, scanned the empty hot plates on the counter, and was led to understand that - although web-sites list Porchetta's hours as "daily" - it was closed. An odd decision, I thought, as Sunday afternoon is just when the streets around St Mark's Place bustle with hungry late-risers looking for lunch or brunch options.
I dutifully returned on a Saturday, and Porchetta was open alright. In fact, the small interior, with some seven or eight stools lining short counters, was packed, and a big juicy roast pork loin was sunning itself on the hot plate. Only one person eating, though. Uh oh. Were people waiting to order? No: I stepped up and asked for a sandwich to go.
Basically, the options here are a porchetta sandwich or a porchetta plate - the meat without the bread but with a side of cannelini beans. There are a few other sides too: greens, crispy potatoes, and some old-school Boylan sodas to wash them down.
The server, with a slightly tired smile, denied my request. "We're out of bread". Okay, not good news for a sandwich shop, but I could get the plate. Not wanting to strike out twice, I agreed - the sandwich is $9; I paid $13 for the plate. I squeezed into a corner, anticipating a wait.
I guess around ten or a dozen people were waiting for food. The line to order grew and stretched out of the door. The first few people to pick up orders got sandwiches - they'd made it before the bread ran out. The order in which they got the sandwiches is somewhat random, as no name is taken at the counter, no ticket or number given. Since everyone is getting pretty much the same thing, this requires the server to memorize the order of the...well, orders.
Given the wait, some people had wandered away, so sandwiches coming out of the kitchen sat on the counter cooling, while those of us who had been denied sandwiches looked hungrily on.
Suddenly, a flurry of excitement. The bread had arrived. People who had arrived after the bunch of us who'd paid extra for plates when we'd wanted sandwiches were now permitted to order sandwiches. This caused mutinous stirrings. It was agreed that the bread roll would simply be added to the plate for all those who had ordered plates. This tamped down the disturbance somewhat.
It was all quite amusing, and to be honest the wait was twenty minutes or so - for me, anyway - which is not good, but not disastrous. When my plate, or rather box, came out, I asked if they'd put bread in with it. Of course, I was told. They hadn't.
So there I was with my naked sandwich. Stuffed roast pork and a few greens. An amusing experience, but I couldn't help remembering that there are more than few Latino diners in the neighborhood who will serve you a sandwich made with fresh pork shoulder, at a third of the price, in a quarter of the time, and without ever running out of bread.
The greens were fine, the beans, in a separate container, very bland. So...I have to admit that the porchetta was remarkably good. Very, very good indeed. My most recent touchstone for comparison is the porchetta they sell by the pound at the excellent Italian food store, Buon Italia, in Chelsea Market. This was better.
The meat is juicy, remarkably tender, and the crackling is crisp, not rubbery. The aformentioned Underground Gourmets mention that wild fennel pollen flavors the stuffing. Wow. All I knew when eating it was that fennel of some kind was involved - a distinct, not overpowering accent, perfectly enhancing the sweetness of the pork.
First rate food. Now please, please, someone go and organize the place...
