Posts in the ‘Meat Packing District’ Category

Publican, Fulton Market

Saturday, September 10th, 2011

he said:

After making our reservation months in advance, when it was finally time for our Friday date night at Publican, I was less than enthused. Summer was in full swing, and all I really wanted to do was have a low key dinner with my wife. Despite my desire to see what all the fuss was about, I just wasn’t in the mood for a fuss.

I didn’t want a scene. I just wanted something nice and relaxing. Turns out, Publican was the perfect place to go.

We sat outside on a night with perfect weather. We were away from the hubbub inside, and the meatpacking district, surprisingly, isn’t a bad place to be on a warm summer evening.

Making up for lost time

We started with a plate of pickles, and I was in love. The pickled cucumbers (most people call them pickles) were only okay. But the pickled asparagus and cauliflower were delightful. Sweet and surprising, I don’t know where these have been all my life.

Speaking of missing out on something, I’ve never had pork rinds. It wasn’t by accident, it was a conscious choice. But Publican is known for theirs so I had to try them. And I’m glad I did. They’re super crunchy with an awesome spicy salt rub and a texture that kind of reminded me of Cheetos. Only better. And louder. Did I mention they were crunchy?

Country Rib Confusion

For my main dish, I had the country ribs, which were unlike any rib I’d ever had. As in, I’m not sure they gave me the right dish. Who out there has had their ribs before? I expect ribs to show up in a neat line with a bit of meat between them. This cut reminded me more of a chop. Am I crazy, or did I get the wrong dish? Please, if you can, enlighten me.

That confusion not withstanding, my “ribs” were great. They had a salty and sweet sauce that worked perfectly.

If it’s a scene, it’s my kind of scene

I’m so glad we went. The food was on par with what I’d expect for a neighborhood swarming with foodies, but the atmosphere was much more low key and simple than I’d anticipated.   The food and drinks (and my wife’s company) were so spectacular that I would have enjoyed Publican even if it had been the scenester scene I was expecting. When I’m surrounded by such delicious treats, even the hugest of deals can’t distract me.*

*Cryptic, huh? Read on and you’ll understand.

she says:

If, ten years ago, someone had told me that they planned to open up a restaurant in the heart of Chicago’s meat-packing district, I’d have had some serious doubts.  I mean, who would want to dine beneath the shadows of those industrial slaughter-houses, amid the smell of butchered meat? I’ll tell you who.  Everyone!

He’s right.  The area – with hipstastic eateries like Girl and the Goat, Publican, and Maude’s Liquor Bar – has developed into a full-blown scene.  Still, it’s funny to hear a relative newcomer (my husband) talk about the district as if it’s passe.  It’s a funny phenomena for those of us with a longer memory.

True to the roots, Publican is an homage to the meat-packing district’s glory days, if such a thing exists.  I read that they bring in a whole pig each Friday – alive or dead, I do not know, but I believe they butcher on site -  and, from what I could tell, every ounce of that oinker, from snout to tail, is served up in one way or another.

The inside of the restaurant, cavernous with hanging globe lights and large communal tables, exudes the warmth and comradery of a German brauhaus.   Along the sides of the room, gated stalls (styes?) offer a slightly more private dining experience.  To  ensure I adequately captured the scene so I could tell you all about it, I walked around the perimeters of the room several times .  After my third lap, I ran into my husband on his way back from the bathroom.  “Are you stalking?”, he asked, only to be met by my blank, confused stare.  As is sometimes the case, I had no clue what he was talking about.  Until, of course,  he tilted  his head towards a nearby sty where I spotted one Robert Downey Jr. (!!!) seated with a group of friends.  One cool thing about my husband: he has a real knack for spotting celebrities, even if sometimes they’re just random actors who have been in one obscure commercial.

But I digress.  Here’s the thing - there’s no shortage of Publican reviews out there so I’m going to keep mine short and to the point.  If you’re hungry for meat, like to eat organs, and love, love, love all things pig, you’re going to be in hog heaven at Publican.  If you’re a vegetarian, even one who thinks they can find something yummy on almost every menu (like me), you are out of luck, my friend.  Most the vegetable courses are cooked in some sort of animal fat or with some animal part.  Interesting pickles are great, but you’re probably not going to find enough to eat or anything extraordinary about the vegetarian food you do find.  Vegetarian fare is not their gig.  Consider yourself warned.

One more thing – and I’m shocked that my husband didn’t bring this up -  I must applaud Publican’s beer menu.  It’s one of the most eclectic, extensive and all-around impressive selections I’ve ever seen.  It was, for me, a saving grace, along, of course, with the white fedora that Robert Downey Jr. was sporting.


Girl and the Goat, Fulton Market

Sunday, April 3rd, 2011

she said:

Hey, remember when Pig Face was an insult rather than a gourmet entrée?  Remember when brains and bones went into the trash rather than onto the menu?  When beef tongue was a by-product rather than a delicacy?  No?  That’s okay.  Me neither.

Over the last ten years, charcuterie has become so trendy that it’s almost passé.   Good thing there’s a new craze: offal and end bits.  Last summer, I attended a pig roast where one hipster guest insisted that we save him the eyeballs.  Which we did.  And which he ate with delight, popping one shrunken orb into his mouth and then the other.

To be clear, I have absolutely no problem with this trend.  It’s all the same to me and, really, what’s the difference between eating a muscle and eating an organ?  I’m simply pointing out that the same dishes (popular in most other countries, I realize) that would have once induced a gag reflex (in this country) now inspire a dainty napkin-to-lip dab and a breathy, Magnifique!

I think we can blame/laud Top Chef winner Stephanie Izard, and her highly acclaimed restaurant, Girl and the Goat, for her place at the forefront of this meat movement.  Several people advised me that I wouldn’t be able to eat much at Girl and the Goat, so with that warning in my cap, along with the  letdown that usually accompanies so much buzz, I prepared myself for disappointment, even after waiting two months for our reservation.

Guess what?  I was blown away.  Yes, her menu features Bison Butt and Pork Belly, but it also features 10 truly spectacular vegetable-inspired dishes (I say veg-inspired, because they’re not all vegetarian. Even some of the desserts include pork). The dishes are “small plates” so we ordered 5 to share.

The highlights:

The Chickpea Fritters, though very salty, were a textural delight, served with goat feta and a mix of green and fried chickpeas, along with hazelnut hummus and a yummy red hot sauce.

The Roasted Cauliflower, tossed with mint, lemon juice, pickled peppers, pine nuts and parmesan (I think), was a startlingly fabulous flavor combination.

And my favorite:  the Kabucha Squash Ravioli, tossed in a mushroom ragout with popped capers, raisins, and brussels leaves.   The sauce, perhaps Thai-inspired, was reminiscent of a coconut curry and it almost made me weep.

As you may have guessed, I didn’t eat any animal parts so I’ll have to leave the meat review to my husband.   The point is, my gastro-delight was unhindered by my vegetarianism.  You don’t have to be a meat lover to fall in love with Girl and the Goat; you just have to be a food lover.  Plus, my herbivorous ways mean there’s more snout for all of you!

he said:

Of all the restaurants where we’ve eaten in the year and a half since I’ve been here, G&TG (acronyms!) is probably the most hyped. We’d heard good things, but also comments like, “Oh, it’s not as her good first restaurant, this is just a chance to cash in on her fame since she won Top Chef.”

To all those people I say,

“Stop hating.”

There is almost nothing to complain about at G&TG. I have one quibble, which I’ll get to in a bit. But first, spare me a moment while I list what I loved:

The dark, large interior that reminded me of a loft. The blackened wood wall, looking like the survivor of a barn fire, that cut the dining room in two. The open view into the bustling kitchen. Our great waitress, who was so friendly I added her as a Facebook friend right there on my phone (not true, but our waitress rocked). The fact that they source their food from local farms. Loved all of it.

And oh my god, the soundtrack. The music in the background was like they tapped into my iPod. Maybe they took a peek at my playlist when I took my phone out to friend our waitress (still not true).  Classic rock, mixed with modern rock, Americana and folk. The wife and I caught ourselves mouthing the words to some of our favorites.

Comfortably creative

On to the food, specifically the meat. This is the only part I didn’t love (my quibble, as promised). I really, really liked it…which is great and puts this restaurant in the Top 5% of places I’ve eaten. But there wasn’t that eye-opening, surprising, wow-moment when I popped a bite into my mouth. The kitchen is doing something inventive with traditional comfort food tastes, and that’s a big task. Inventive and traditional are awkward bedfellows, despite the fact that more and more restaurants are trying to pair them.

I love their creativity and what they’re trying to accomplish. But I only really, really liked their food.

Beyond the veggie dishes, which I enjoyed a lot, I had the Goat T-bones and the Pig Face. The T-bones actually reminded me of buffalo wings. They’re much smaller than a T-bone steak, and I was told to eat them with my hands. They’re perfectly cooked, with a spicy barbecue sauce that gives them a little kick. Fun, tasty and just as messy as wings.

The Pig Face came recommended. Delicious and decadent with all the pork fat and a fried egg on top. It was cooked crispy, then softened by the fat and drizzled with caramel that was a sweet counter to the savoriness of the pork. It came really close to a wow moment, but was so rich that the whole plate was a bit much for one person. Get this dish if you go, but try to share it.

I was hoping to be blown away by the food, and it came up a bit short. But maybe I should appreciate the fact that this restaurant had me asking for Pig Face and I wasn’t making a bad joke. I’m kind of blown away by that.