Pig out at The Spotted Pig.

Last night I got to experience being hip in Manhattan. It was big. I dined at The Spotted Pig down in the west village. This was truly an honor, as they do not accept reservations and usually the wait is more than 2 hours. Fortunately, a guy I work with has “the hook-up” and as soon as we walked it, we were seated. You should have seen how many dirty looks we got! AWESOME. Be jealous of me all you trendy west villagers. I live in Murray Hill! Take that! Unfortunately, the only open table was near the door, so every time some hopeful diner entered to find out the wait was indefinite, a freezing cold gust of wind blew at us. It was a cramped little table squeezed up against a window ledge filled with potted plants. I later found a piece of rosemary in my hair that smelled delightful. 2 of the seats were small stools with no backs, only comfortable for about 5 minutes unless you have a steel rod in your back to help you out. Luckily I got the booth side! We ordered up a nice bottle of red wine and perused the menu. Note: The Spotted Pig is not meant for picky eaters. You must like to eat strange parts of animals. Fortunately for me, I can never turn down liver, I’m Jewish! We began with the Chicken Liver Toast, the Roasted Pumpkin and The Ricotta Gnudi. If you love liver, the toast will not disappoint! Do it. As a person obsessed with everything pumpkin and squash, I loved the pumpkin dish. It was warm and delicious and served with Pecorino cheese so it just can’t go wrong. The Ricotta Gnudi was OUT OF THIS WORLD. It was these little warm ricotta dumplings served in a brown butter sauce with sage. If I were paying for this meal, I would not have shared this, but alas, I never quite made it to med school, so I’ll take a free meal when I can get it. 1 bottle of wine finished and our appetizers digesting in our stomachs, we order bottle number 2 and await our entrees. An enormous plate of shoestring fries nears our table. Hidden behind them is a burger (with Roquefort cheese) and our waitress.

That’s my twin sister with her shoestring fries and her burger peeking out behind them.

I’ve never seen so many french fries in my life. I sensed a challenge I couldn’t refuse. And that wasn’t even my dinner! I ordered the Pork Belly. See what I mean about strange animal parts? But let’s not leave out the fact that it was actually called the Pork Belly Faggot. At first I was a little shocked that they used the word Faggot, I mean, we are in the west village, but apparently when talking about food, it’s a British word describing a meatball made of Pork “waste parts” and meat. Glad I looked that up after I ate it and not before. As a side we ordered the Brussel Sprouts, roasted to perfection.
All in all, my meal was downright amazing. I would go back in 2 seconds if I could get in again. For dessert, we had the Flourless Chocolate Cake and it was like heaven in my mouth. If only I could blame my finishing it and licking the plate to me having “lady issues,” but no, I am just an unspotted pig.

The Spotted Pig is by far worth the wait, the uncomfortable quarters and the 13 pounds I gained.

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