I had a gig in the meatpacking district, and Margy met me after work for a little pregame BBQ at the Hog Pit.
Ah, the Hog Pit. The warm, almost melting cheese biscuits started us off right. We tried to resist eating them all before our entrees arrived, but we mostly failed.
I had a rack of pork ribs with panfried corn and cabbage with bacon. (Call that a piggy exacta.) Margy had a pulled pork sandwich with black-eyed peas and mac and cheese. Somehow I ate all my ribs, but Margy, even after working pretty hard, had enough meat left over to essentially make another pulled pork sandwich.
Ah, the Hog Pit.
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