Before a car crash derailed their summer dining season, Journeyman had instituted a Saturday afternoon barbecue lunch, setting up a grill outside and serving to the crowds that passed through Union Square on the way to and from the farmer’s market. They’re up and running again, but, inspired by the success of the Saturday experiment, they hoisted their first pig roast yesterday.
The restaurant doesn’t have the room (or the permit) to set up a roasting pit and spit, so we were invited to an undisclosed location to view the pig being cooked, which we took as an opportunity to showÂ He Who Will Not Be Ignored how his favorite food is prepared. The setup is was a bit makeshift, but the spit to which the pig is wired was custom-built at one of the local bike shops.
Having been introduced to the main course, we arrived an hour later at Journeyman to enjoy some appetizers while the pig rested and was transported to the kitchen. We started with prosciutto and melon, smoked cherry tomatoes, a simple salad of tomatoes in olive oil, and this ricotta, Greek yogurt, and ground cherry tart:
The guest of honor finally arrived and was laid out on the counter for final carving. He Who was invited to watch the proceedings, so he took the photo.
The pig, seasoned simply with just salt and herbs,Â was promptly separated into plates of delicious parts. We were served belly with crispy skin, and chunks of the butt and ham.
The accompaniments were fried zucchini with marjoram and blueberriesâ€¦
â€¦and fried rice.
I noticed a smoky flavor,Â which I assumed was from the cherry tomatoes, the remainder of which had been used in the rice. However, when I asked chef Tsei Wei what was in the rice, he laughed and confessed Â that the flavor was from smoked pork fat, a bonus left over from the Saturday barbecue lunches. (You know I’ll be smoking my own pork fat soon to keep in reserve in theÂ Deep Storage Facility.)
The meal ended with a roasted white peach bread pudding with rhubarb sorbet.
Before we staggered home,Â She Who Must Be Obeyed suggested to Meg, the GM, that this shouldn’t be a one-time occurrence. She agreed, and modified her title accordingly:
Maybe we’ll see you at the next one.