I hit up this spot on the edge of Little Italy that is practically the antithesis of anything related to Italian cuisine… if you don’t count meat-sweats and taking a nap after a big meal. We’re talking about BBQ, and not backyard pits that you nonno tirelessly tends to in between hosing down the driveway and fertilizing tomato plants – but the likes of which will make you question everything you’ve ever known about what you think you know.
Tag:
Pulled pork
I’m not a winter person, but living in a city where winter is a thing that’s six months long – it’s something you have to learn to deal with. I’m not a religious person either, but I’ve found the best thing to do in the winter is pray… and lots of it; and just sit there and try to pray the shit out of winter to leave. But alas, we need to put up with it, and on the brighter side, what’s synonymous with winter? Yes! Soul soothing, comfort food that will stick to your ribs like a big hug and all those other adjectives with warm and ooey-gooey clichés that are associated with winter eating!
When I say “pub grub” what do you think of? An old dusty basket packed to the top with gloopy-suaced chicken wings and recycled carrot and celery stick? Fries fried in oil that’s probably as old as the recipe for the stout they have on tap? Now what do you think of when I say “Gasto-Pub”? Contrary to what the name implies, it’s not a place where you’ll get some stomach bug and forced into isolation from friends and family and treated like you own a Clay Aiken album.
My “vanilla couple”, (the ones who like to order the same thing unless I yell at them – as illustrated in my post about dinner at Osteria Venti) and I hit up this spot overlooking the Jean Talon Market. I cornered them and bullied them into ordering different things this time, I refuse to try a new menu and have only 2 different meals amongst three people! We went to check out Le Pourvoyeur – gastro-pub to grub on the menu and try to decide if they were pub, or restaurant, or proverbially, chicken or egg.