urban daddy

Pig's ears at the Purple Pig and salty pork rinds at the Publican: fine, respectable, even wondrous things. Works of art, in fact.

But it's Friday, and you're not hungry for art. You want ribs. Good, old-fashioned, falling-off-the-bone, drenched-in-sweet-sticky-goodness, let's-not-over-think-this ribs.

Introducing The Piggery, a sports-and-ribs joint that opened last night on the outer cusp of Wrigleyville with—we'll just say it now—a moniker worthy of a place in the Great Barbecue Names Hall of Fame (which we think just opened outside Memphis).

At first blush, it just looks like a simple, friendly neighborhood joint, exactly the sort of place to take in a Bulls or Blackhawks playoff game. But once upon a time, this space was Biasetti's Steak & Rib House, whose tender 'cue is still reverently whispered about in some circles. One of the original owners—along with an original partner from Evanston's Lucky Platter—is back, doing what he does best: whipping up super-saucy baby backs and making sure you have plenty of napkins.

There's no beer sommelier or anything like that, but they're more than capable of pouring you a cold microbrew. On those nights when ribs are a less pressing concern, go ahead and dabble in a pork pot roast, a whiskey-apple-glazed pork loin or theFirecrackers, which are sort of like jalapeño poppers, but wrapped in bacon.

And totally boneless.

Piggery Tape