The CEO is no huge fan of Manhattan. I hate the noise, crowds, filth, subways, prices etc, but I do love a few certain things about it. Like the restaraunts. I was doing this with pork ten years ago; apparently I should have opened a place in Tribeca back then:
When several companions and I ordered a pork chop one night at the Little Owl, which I’ll review in tomorrow’s newspaper, the server’s response took them aback. She noted that the chef, as a matter of course, prepared the chop medium-rare, adding that he would of course cook it more thoroughly if that’s what we wanted. Had they been on their own, my companions probably would have requested a different temperature for the chop. But I asked them to take a leap of faith and give medium rare a try, promising them that they would not only like it, but also live to see the morning. They did. And they did.
For many chefs and for many of us, medium-rare pork has been the norm for many years now. It’s not what the sternest health experts would recommend. It’s not anything that the U.S. Department of Agriculture would officially endorse. But trichinosis isn’t as much of a concern as it was decades ago — I don’t think there’s much dispute about that. And if medium-rare pork is a game of Russian roulette, well, I’m a lucky man who has never, ever encountered the loaded chamber. And I know many other diners just like me. “If the pigs are raised properly, there’s no reason to be afraid,” said Joey Campanaro, the chef and co-owner of the Little Owl, in a telephone conversation. He said that most upscale restaurants that are worth anything get their pork from the kinds of providers who aren’t raising or selling sick pigs.
People are finally beginning to see the light. . .
