[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid: January 26, 2015]
Snow was falling heavily this week ten years ago, much more so than January 2015. It was through the snow and the cold that a series of experts gathered at a Chelsea apartment, bearing samples of ribs from all over the city, for a blind barbecue tasting.
During which I lost a piece of a tooth. That's ribs for you; or the bones, at least.
We'd shared out sourcing assignments, sending experts to all corners of the city.
Mine took me to Pearson's on the Upper East Side. I helped myself to a brisket sandwich while I was there. You can still read a blow-by-blow account of the tasting here. But you might be well advised to cut to the chase. A win for those Pearson's ribs; a good showing by Blue Smoke, and--as I'd predicted--the unfashionable Virgil's. Disappointing results for Dinosaur, Texas Smokehouse, and Bonelick.
And this was long before anyone dreamt of Hill Country.
The other notable feeding was at a new Italian restaurant opposite City Center, which listed some intriguing dishes in its early days--what we now call critic bait. The place is still there, but today's menu is a conventional selection of pastas, tuna tartar, salmon, a veal chop, tiramisu...you know the score. But ten years ago:
Boneless quail with mostarda di frutta, cipollini onions, hazelnuts
Grilled tripe, basil-Parmesan sauce
Ricotta ravioli, basil, walnut sauce
Vanilla sweetbreads, chocolate wild boar, polenta
Suckling pig loin
Trio of aged Parmigiano Reggiano
And a bottle of 2000 Librandi "Gravello." Ambitious stuff, especially the kind of white chocolate/dark chocolate take on the meats. Not brilliantly executed unfortunately, and marred by a battle for a decent table in an under-filled restaurant. But hey, it reads well.
What else? Braising pig's heart and liver at home to serve with mashed yams. Roasting a pork shoulder. Rustling up skate with black butter. Reading Pastnerak's poetry in translation, and listening to Throbbing Gristle. Next week, the old Grenouille.
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