I can't stop ...violating laws in the Torah

Keeping kosher was never really an option for me growing up. I think this point was nailed home when I ordered a massive side of bacon when my grandparents (the Jewish ones) took me out to breakfast at age 8. Despite looking on in horror while I consumed all 10 pieces, they never said a word. Mercifully, my parents never attempted to deny me such pleasures either and I've been allowed to enjoy things like shellfish, pork, or when I'm really trying to stick it to God, the holy trinity of breaking kosher laws, the bacon cheeseburger. This weekend for instance, I think every meal I ate spat in the face of Jewish Dietary law in one form or another, which brings me to the purpose of this post: Amada and the delicious demise of Winston Bunberry.

Every year my friends from high school and I get together around Christmas for a nice dinner. This year, after some research, I suggested Amada, in Old City (217 Chestnut St.) here in Philly. Amada was Jose Garces' first of his now four restaurants. Those of you who obsess over food like I do may know him as the newest Iron Chef. I had been there once before while I was summering at the law firm and noticed that if you called ahead order and had a party of four or more, you could order a roast suckling pig and get it family style. After hearing someone rave about it, and feeling particularly in the mood to taunt God, I decided Amada should be the site of this year's dinner. We were not disappointed (although the big guy upstairs made an awesome show of strength by dumping a record 22 inches of snow on Philly in an attempt to prevent me from enjoying it, which caused me to reevaluate whether I should be choosing restaurants or doing anything for that matter with the purpose of sticking it to him)...

This is what poor Winston Bunberry looked like after the chefs had finished with him. The chefs don't do anything fancy with the pig. They brine it overnight in a salt and sugar mixture and then roast it with minimal seasoning. The results are tremendous. I have never done heroin, but after eating this pig with its unbelievably crispy skin, I now have a greater understanding of what drove Jennifer Connelly to her public display of lesbianism in Requiem for a Dream. Every bite was a taste explosion. They even carve up the little guy table-side and you can request the offal and other portions of the pig that most people generally don't eat. My buddy Dan asked for the pig's cheeks, ears and brain, and five minutes later, Winston's head was gone and we had the delicious meat from the cheek in front of us.

Standing alone, I'd recommend the pig to anyone, but it also comes with four sides: grilled spring onions, roasted fingerlings with some balsamic, white beans with rosemary, and garbanzo beans with saffron and spinach. The white beans were particularly unreal, but all of the sides played a nice second fiddle to the pig. All in all, it was a meal fitting of a last supper. Aside from being delicious, it's also one of the best deals in city at $32 a head. Plus, I left with enough leftovers to make sandwiches all week. Although we ordered some tapas to start, I would be surprised if most people left having finished all the meat and sides. Basically, this dinner is it's own little slice of heaven, which I guess is just one more reason to think twice before spiting the big guy.

Iron and Wine - The Devil Never Sleeps

Regina Spektor - Laughing With