I never planned on eating a pig’s eyeball, especially not on a cold, rainy day on a classy rooftop in New York City at one of those Press Events That Keep Poorly Paid Food Writers Fed. But Knob Creek was really, really good at insisting I try some whiskey cocktails, and Michael Symon was really, really good at roasting a pig basted with bourbon, and Pat LaFrieda was really, really good at carving this beast into enormous, fatty chunks of pork that may have flooded my brain with quite a few endorphins. Because look at this pig. It is like steroids for the soul.
What I’m trying to say is that all of these substances took hold of my mind and flesh, eliminating all my fears and leaving me especially bold. So when LaFrieda started asking the staff about what to do with the leftover pig’s head — “Do you think anyone will go for the eyeballs?” — I raised my hand.
“Yo, I’ll eat it,” I said. “Yes, I’m serious,” I insisted when the PR bros called my bluff. If you look closely, I appear to be wearing whiskey glasses, which is probably why I consented to letting this be filmed.
Looking back on it, I’m really glad I didn’t get a high-def closeup of Pat LaFrieda popping an eyeball out of a skull like a grapefruit segment, but you know what? I Zimmern’d. I Bourdain’d. I can now say that I ate a pig’s eyeball and I liked it. Maybe I should make a Katy Perry-esque dance club single about the experience.
Also, though you might not hear it in the video, Pat LaFrieda is really good at trash talk.
Thanks to Knob Creek for capturing this moment, forever.
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