Brunch at the Publican is a genial affair. The menu is sort of organized around small plates - there are entree sized dishes, but who can resist throwing on a side or two? Certainly not me and Harold - we ordered a somewhat embarrassing amount of food (I say embarrassing because my boyfriend just ran into the guy who waited on us when we had dinner there, and he apparently remembers us mostly for the astonishing quantity of things we managed to not only order, but also consume. I am slowly developing a reputation...). Of course, there was no way to NOT order the side of Publican bacon. And what a thing of beauty it is:
This is no thin crispy slice of breakfast meat. This is a slab of pig, crisped on the outside, chewy and gooey and marvelous on the inside, perfectly blended flavors of smoked and salty and meaty and delicious. Harold actually moaned with pleasure when he took his first bite. Loudly. It was kind of scandalous.
But seriously. While you may complain that this isn't really the bacon you're used to, and not what you expected, and bla bla bla -listen. This isn't the bacon you're used to. This is bacon as it SHOULD be.