SMOKIN’ DELICIOUS
UNION PIG AND CHICKEN COMBINES RIGHT COOKING TIME AND TEMPERATURES FOR GREAT BARBECUE
When Kevin Sousa, one of Pittsburgh’s most acclaimed chefs, opened Union Pig and Chicken in East Liberty no one knew quite what to expect. The barbecue restaurant is markedly different from Mr. Sousa’s first establishment, Salt of the Earth in Garfield. It requires substantially less in the way of time, money or explanation. Yet from the minute it opened in late February, it was scrutinized and discussed even more intensely than its fancier, more provocative sister restaurant.
Like Salt of the Earth, Union’s long, narrow dining room is filled with sleek communal tables, but here they’re lined with short benches. Walls are covered with pale, rough reclaimed wood on three sides, and a shiny display of red checks on the last, like a tablecloth under a microscope. The menu is simple and succinct, consisting of a couple of specials, five kinds of meat, seven sides.
America has little in the way of a traditional cuisine, at least one that seems worth fighting over. Barbecue is a notable exception, even in a region without any particular barbecue history of its own. “If I do a plate at [Salt of the Earth], no one else knows what it’s supposed to be,” said Mr. Sousa. “But when I say I’m doing ribs, everyone else has an idea of what ribs are supposed to be.”
It’s silly to quibble about authenticity, a word which has surprisingly little correlation with deliciousness. It’s our very freedom from the strangleholds of a traditional cuisine that has made this country such an exciting place to eat in recent years, not just in a few big cities but in a surprising number of small and medium ones as well. In Pittsburgh, Mr. Sousa has played a significant role in pushing those culinary boundaries, and his customers have granted him an impressive amount of freedom to experiment. So perhaps it was inevitable that at Union Pig and Chicken, a restaurant that is neither traditional nor particularly boundarybreaking, some would take issue with subtler forms of interpretation.
This isn’t Texas or South Carolina or Kansas City barbecue, and it’s more than a mishmash of traditions and recipes. Union Pig and Chicken serves up the notion of barbecue, modified as Mr. Sousa and chef de cuisine Mike Lefever see fit. They rely on the usual sugar and salt brine, dry rubs, smoke and plenty of time. It may not be authoritative, but it is very good.
Chicken, which comes both barbecued and fried, is probably the least divisive protein on the menu ($11 half/$17 full). It’s hard to argue with meat that is so juicy, so perfectly seasoned. The fried chicken is a particularly easy sell, crispy, decadent, yet not at all greasy. But the barbecued chicken is equally pleasing, the smoke lending it an unexpected complexity. White and dark meat are both impressively juicy.
The brisket tastes of beef and smoke and little else ($13). It’s cooked simply, with no added moisture. It’s cooked for a long time so that as much of the fat as possible can render. The best bites, however, are the ones that still have thin streaks of fat, lending a velvety richness to the meat.
The national obsession with pork may have receded just a bit, but at a barbecue restaurant, pork will always be in style, and Union Pig and Chicken treats it with suitable respect. The ribs have been worked and reworked, even after the restaurant opened, adjustments made to cooking time and temperature. They’re brushed with cider vinegar, mustard, sugar and olive oil, and rubbed with a mix of brown sugar, cayenne, garlic, onion, paprika, cumin, salt and pepper. Cooked “low and slow” for about seven hours, they have a dark, slightly sticky crust concealing pink, smoky meat.
The pork shoulder is served cubed, rather than shredded ($12). It’s soft enough to shred almost at the touch, but the cubed meat retains all of its juices and offers a delicious contrast between crispy and tender edges. It’s best eaten in the form of miniature sandwiches, tucked into soft, white rolls and interspersed with bites of the tangy, bright pink coleslaw slaw ($3), or spoonfuls of sweet baked beans ($4).
Tables are set up with a trio of sauces: A tomato-based barbecue sauce sweetened with brown sugar and flavored with bourbon, an apple cider vinegar with dried chile and maple and a habanero sauce to be used with caution. These are good but not essential. Careful brining, smoking and cooking ensure that each and every meat is juicy and satisfying all in its own.
Some might say that side dishes are the best part of barbecue. Those people probably haven’t been eating very good barbecue, but side dishes are important. Huge slabs of meat can get a little dull; they benefit from more varied flavors and textures to provide contrast and balance.
That coleslaw is a must order, but there are many other options to weigh and consider. Mac and cheese is creamy and comforting, broiled on top to add an element of crunch ($4). It’s even better, however, served as “meaty mac,” with brisket and shoulder folded in, topped with crumbles of blue cheese and a drizzle of wasabi oil, which works surprisingly well as a foil for so many heavy flavors ($7). The cornbread is dark yellow and very buttery, not at all sweet ($3)
A little inconsistency shows up among the side dishes: The potato sal-
ad is made with thin slices of small potatoes, cooked until barely done, mixed with dill and parsley, a bit of chopped egg and a thin dressing with just a little mayonnaise ($4). At its best, it’s clean and refreshing, but sometimes the potatoes were just on the wrong side of cooked.
Collard greens, stewed with thin slices of bacon, turned bright and sweet by a generous hit of vinegar, were mostly flavorful and well balanced, but on one visit a portion was watery and bland ($4).
Those looking for more freewheeling creativity can find it among a handful of specials. The smoked pork belly wraps are particularly impressive, chunks of rich, fatty pork nestled into large, crisp lettuce leaves, garnished with barely cooked spring peas, ramps and habanero, which contributes a lingering but not overwhelming heat ($8). Beef tartare is everywhere these days, but Union’s version is particularly fun, served with crispy house-made potato chips, which are just sturdy enough for scooping up bits of neatly diced raw beef ($9).
The drink list, overseen by general manager Jessicarobyn Keyser, is another good place to look for innovation. Alongside a curated selection of American whiskeys and interesting beers, you’ll find Old Overholt Rye whiskey infused with a variety of eclectic and delicious flavors such coffee, black fig, fennel and maple syrup; or grapefruit, ginger, vanilla and cane sugar ($8). Jelly jars pack less of a punch. Locally made Wigle white whiskey is combined with freshly squeezed lemonade, fresh fruit and accoutrements and shaken up in a jar into a frothy, light, refresher. Some of these are extremely sweet, more dessert than drink, excepting the rhubarb, a wonderfully tart mix of salted strawberry, rhubarb and orange ($9).
While servers don’t have a terribly challenging menu to master or many points of service to check off, the staff ’s knowledge of sauces, side dishes and drinks was thorough, and their enthusiasm for the restaurant seemed genuine.
Union is great for groups, since meals are by default family-style and easy to share. Vegetarians and vegans will find little to eat here, but children are welcome and present. It doesn’t hurt that most of the cooking is done in advance, so food comes quickly. Orders arrive on rimmed baking sheets, with side dishes tucked into attractive wooden and ceramic bowls. Square, white plates seem downright fancy next to the paper napkins and squeeze bottles of sauces, but they help the food look its best, never a bad idea.
For a chef that has constantly challenged diners with new ingredients, techniques and evolving menus, a restaurant that serves the same menu of comforting, indulgent food and drink year-round seems rather unexpected. But in the end it’s not such a different enterprise. Mr. Sousa asks diners to let the restaurant and its staff do what they do best.
As for those who hoped that a Kevin Sousa barbecue restaurant would be more exciting, well, you may only need to wait a few months. Plans are being laid for an upstairs bar and kitchen, with a lounge area offering dessert tastings and small plates, where seats can be purchased for elaborate tasting menus paired with cocktails. They’re raising funds for the construction with a series of dinners, the first of which will take place downstairs at Union on June 24. The eight-course menu includes dishes such as cock’s comb with chicken liver, buttermilk, turnip, sage, crumbled biscuit and greens paired with a cocktail of scotch, lemon, chamomile, honey, clove, sage and milk foam. Modernist cuisine above a barbecue restaurant in East Liberty? Today, it doesn’t seem all that surprising.