18 Chalk Farm Road, London NW1 (020 7428 0998). Meal for two, including drinks and service: £60
If ever you were looking for a marker of a country’s economic development you could do worse than study the commodities the government regards as of vital importance. In the US, for example, they have a strategic petroleum reserve, set aside in case imports are interrupted or the market disrupted. Other countries stockpile grain. In China? Why, they hold a strategic pork reserve. Of course they do. Launched in 2007, it’s in two parts, one frozen and, more importantly, one live. They live on farms which operate under general market conditions until there are major market fluctuations. If the price of pork rises substantially they can release enormous numbers of pigs on to the market, thus increasing supply and dampening price. If the price drops, threatening farmers’ livelihoods, they can buy it up.
Nothing must come between the Chinese and their pigs, and the government knows this. As demonstrated by the events of the Arab Spring – largely inspired by huge food price rises across the subsidised markets of the Middle East and North Africa – populations can handle endless infringements on their civil liberties, but if you get between them and their dinner you’ll be in trouble. Chinese prosperity and the rise of the middle classes has led to a massive increase in the consumption of meat, up from 10kg per person per year in 1975 to over 45kg a year now, and the vast majority of that is pork. Beijing knows that pork supplies must be secured.
It’s enough to make me move there. I love lamb. I bend the knee before a fine rib of beef. But pork wins. It simply has better fat. Its skin crackles. It can be eaten from the tip of its ears to the last curl of its tail. It accepts flavours and seasoning like an eager lover to its bed. Sure it can be cooked fast, but best of all it can be cooked very long and very slow, giving you lots of time in which to anticipate the pleasures to come from all that killer fat and skin. At all times I try to maintain my very own strategic pork reserve, a freezer drawer of belly, loin and chop.
Certainly a small restaurant group called Porky’s was bound to get my attention eventually. It is part of the escalating boom in Southern US BBQ. A few years ago you would struggle to find more than a couple of places approximating the low and slow traditions of American pig-smoking, be it ribs, tips, shoulders or links and all other bits in between. Now pulling pork has become such an urban British cliché that adolescent boys can discuss it openly without getting filthy looks.
This means that in some places pigs are dying in vain, because getting it right is tough. I have had tough ribs and floppy ribs and ones that were so dry as to make me hug my knees and rock back and forth keening lightly under my breath. The regional variations are huge, and the snobbery over it vast. Dry rub or wet rub? Vinegared sauce or sugared? Thick cut or not? It also comes with more stupid baggage than any other craze. Ribs served in dustbins? Oh, how terribly witty, for this is junk food, isn’t it? It’s one short step from there to serving chips in miniature chip-shop fryers and putting the bloody bread in flat bloody caps. Please, somebody put these people out of my misery.
How then to judge the good from the bad? For example, Porky’s describes itself as specialising in the BBQ of Memphis. I’m pretty good on Texas and the Carolinas, but of Memphis I know nothing. So my criteria: is it meaty? Does it display evidence of a proper bask in the smoke? Is it seasoned in a way that will distress the anti-salt lobby? The branch of Porky’s in Camden – there are others in Bankside and Shoreditch – keeps to stereotype: a bit of retro Americana, shelves of bourbons behind the bar and too much food served in white enamelware like we’re all convicts at Angola Penitentiary biding our time between bouts of abuse in the showers.
The first signs are not great. A mixed starter platter at £24 for four looks like a buffet at a Shoreditch hipster wedding. It’s lots of brown things against the white enamel. Crabcakes are too little crab and much too much potato. Pulled-pork croquettes are a sensible way for the restaurant to use up the trimmings though less of a sensible thing to order. Again they are too much potato. There are other round, brown, breaded fried things which may be tomatoes, but I’m too scared to ask. Garlic toast is like 1974, in a bad way.
But there, lurking at the back, are chicken wings, and suddenly everything is OK. Better than that. Everything is very good indeed. There is a crunchy dark-lacquered skin that extends even unto the tips. The meat pulls away from the bone. Best of all, there is a real smokiness, of a sort that takes hours to obtain. I am sharing this platter with friends and do my very best to steal more than my fair share.
A similar story is repeated with the mains. Obligatory mac ’n’ cheese has a crumbly sauce, which suggests a heavy hand with the flour in the roux. Creamed spinach tastes like it has been pelted with so much nutmeg it might later be the source of hallucinations. But, oh my, here are the ribs, and they are a beautiful thing. Dark lacquered – some might call it black, but it’s such a loaded word where smoked food is concerned – thick cut, a proper bite, fat that is beginning to dissolve, and again that pronounced smokiness. I would seek out Porky’s for these alone. They also come with impressive pickles the colour of a knife accident on account of the beetroot.
Against the majesty of the ribs, their pulled pork, which is a little dry, has scant chance. Likewise a pork sausage as a hot dog doesn’t cut it, when the street food operation Big Apple Hot Dogs (also available at Mishkin’s) has changed the game, with their glorious pork and beef blend. A lacklustre peanut butter cheesecake on an overly thick biscuit base with a splodge of fruit compote does not alter the impression: Porky’s does key things very well indeed. It’s the support acts that are the problem. No matter. Like the Chinese, I need a diversified strategic pork reserve; Porky’s can be a part of mine.
Jay’s news bites
■ Among the US BBQ operations that have sprung up across Britain recently, honourable mention must go to Grillstock, which has outlets in Bristol and Bath. Not only do they knock out very good ribs, they are also the instigators of Grillstock, the home-grown BBQ festivals held in Bristol and Manchester (and now near Silverstone). It’s not exactly the American Royal, held every year in Kansas City, but it is an interesting showcase for a culinary subculture (grillstock.co.uk).
■ Good news: Chester restaurant Sticky Walnut, which (as reported in this News Bites column from 19 October) turned to Kickstarter to raise £100,000 to launch a sister restaurant, has hit its target. Chef Gary Usher has suggested he hopes to have Burnt Truffle open by the late spring of 2015 (stickywalnut.com).
■ The Carluccio’s chain is to open 10 pop-up shops across England between now and Christmas. The shops, located near to Carluccio’s restaurants in the likes of Liverpool, Milton Keynes and Worcester, will mostly sell gift ranges including pannetone and chocolates (carluccios.com).
Email Jay at jay.rayner@observer.co.uk. Follow Jay on Twitter @jayrayner1
