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The Publican
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“She offered us a beer pairing for our entrees and finished our meal with a delicious digestif.”
“We were seated right away, the service was great and the food was wonderful.”
“All strangeness aside, my dish was incredible, the setting is relaxing, and the customer service was among the best I've seen.”
“While I have been frustrated at times with the slow service, the food and beer r well worth the slight wait.”
“While I have been frustrated at times with the slow service, the food and beer r well worth the slight wait.”View Less
sooo tasty!. the Publican is easily one of the best restaurants i have eaten at. i have visited many many times and talked with most of the staff and have eaten my way through most the menu. Michael, Kimberly, Jordan... thank you!…
What is all the hype? Not impressed at all.
I was excited to try this place after taking a look at all the great reviews. However, after having incredibly slow service by our server as well as being completely confused by the menu selection I
changed my mind.
The server told me it was tapas style and was designed to be family style. Who charges $20 a plate for tapas? Plus the fact that one of the menu items are different pieces of ham? $15 for ham? I was not impressed with how the food tasted which made spending a large amount of money even more painful.
I will not be back to this establishment anytime soon.…
Amazing food with a few hiccups.
I was REALLY looking forward to having dinner at the Publican. I know brunch is supposed to be their forte but the dinner menu had me a 'sucking pig'. I ended up enjoying the food immensely despite a
few bumps in the road along the way.
The restaurant itself is tasteful and inviting, despite the noise and initial weirdness of sitting at a communal table. The tall backed chairs create a room within a room which makes dining a bit more private.
Onto the interesting part - we ordered the summer chicory salad to share, I ordered the suckling pig and my friend ordered the fish stew. We dove into the salad immediately and as I was cutting my chicory I noticed something really big and weird and brown - it was a soiled napkin.
We called for our waiter who removed the salad and Kimberly, the manager, came over immediately to apologize. She completely took care of us and went above and beyond to show how badly they felt about the incident. She offered us a beer pairing for our entrees and finished our meal with a delicious digestif. She brought us a replacement salad using arugula (they had run out of chicory). I didn't expect so much attention and was greatly pleased about how she handled the situation.
In terms of the entrees, my pig was incredible. Really, it rivals the suckling pig I've eaten in Spain where pig is truly king. Everything was perfectly cooked and the Saison beer enhanced the savory flavors. The fish stew was also simple and perfect (we did end up finding a random orange slice in the stew but we let that go).
If you're on the fence about dining here, I say go. All strangeness aside, my dish was incredible, the setting is relaxing, and the customer service was among the best I've seen.…
Porcine Heaven.
If pigs could fly, Publican would probably catch them, rip out their wings and make a dish so tasty it would send the diner (with late hog) to porcine heaven.
Having encumbered Publican with my presence before, I thought I knew what to expect. Indeed, had it not been for the plethora of reviews calling brunch excellent I would not have even bothered. Dinner was just adequate and there are too few Sunday brunches in a year for plain adequacy. This, however, was nothing of the sort.
Forget what you may know of Blackbird portions. Forget about fancy schmancy. This is a place of pork and beer and love. Love because of those damned communal tables which I despise but everyone else seems to, well, love.
I had the grilled pork shoulder sandwich which was so big that upon first bite, the bread buckled with some contents crashing to the plate. Not to be defeated, I picked up the escaping swine and shoved it right back in the breach from whence it came then palmed the sandwich damning good manners to the pigsty. Nothing escaped again. Nor lasted long. Several partners-in dine had the scrapple with fried eggs which, although good, couldn’t hold a bacon-scented candle to my shoulder. But – what they could do is pierce their eggs and let the yolk seep through the sticky offal scraps like an embryonic reservoir whose placenta burst. I only wish they were pig eggs since this seems too erotic a way to mix the species.
Also worthy of mention are the sides of which we sampled three. The spicy pork rinds were less spicy than dreamy with the gentle taste of ungulate undulating through the airy folds of former flesh. The bacon must have been an inch and a half thick and tasted more like a pork belly than plain old Oscar Meyer crispy salt. The hash browns were – hash browns. A little too greasy for my taste but listen to me, drinking what must be a cup of swine-fat and acting all prejudicial against a greasy vegetable.
Anyway, put on your bacon underwear, stick your boar-bristle hairbrush in your back pocket, go to Publican, eat more than I did, bring your dog back some pig ears and tell the swine-haters to go flock themselves.
Love,
Mealschpeal com…
