Its website decries "pretense and preening," but its clientele doesn't seem to have gotten the memo, and so what happens to the irony? Located in the former La Mediterranee space on Randolph, Porkchop offers a simple, predictable bar-food menu of wings, pork belly sliders, pork chops grilled or chicken fried, salads, and sandwiches. It was hard to tell what exactly the place was going for. The whiskey was good—over two dozen bourbons, scotches, and ryes, all served neat in the dimly lit, wood-trimmed space festooned with a handful of surprised-looking animal heads. But the food was uneven. A trio of andouille, duck, and boar sausage lollipops unexpectedly came breaded. An inch-and-a-half thick pork chop was nicely pink in the middle but had less flavor than the potatoes surrounding it, and, like a well-prepared, buttery rib eye, didn't taste of the grill. A "deconstructed" whiskey root beer float just meant you had to pour the beverages in yourself.
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