Friday, April 30, 2010

Day Eleven - Purple Porcine Palace

Vegetarians beware. This post reeks of meat. Pork to be specific, for tonight Lo and I dined at Jimmy Bannos Jr.'s The Purple Pig, Chicago's latest culinary darling. As long as you are ok with eating any pig part or portion imaginable, this is the place for you. Upon entry, one is enveloped in an aroma cloud that smacks of porcine pheromones. And not the pig on a farm pheromone, obviously, the aroma of a pig that has just been seared, braised, and fried six ways 'til Sunday. Pictured you have the fried prosciutto bread balls and the crispy pig ears with kale and a fried egg. Both dishes were standouts in a stunning swine supper. But the true hero of the night was the dish with no pork at all, the Sicilian Iris, a puffed brioche beignet filled with silky ricotta and chocolate chips. I'm not typically a dessert person, but this may have been the finest final course I've ever had. I'll go back again and again and again. I think The Beatles had it right: "Everywhere there's lots of piggies / living piggy lives / you can see them out to dinner / with their piggy wives." That was me, tonight, George. And I had a lovely evening...

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