Those quick to admonish others for playing with their food have clearly never indulged in Yamuel Bigio’s “Kan Kan” porchetta ($34). This boneless round of loin and belly rotisseried for six hours inside Crocante Restaurant’s East Colonial Drive kitchen yields an outer ring so shellacked, so crackling, so … crocante, that one can’t help but pick up a knife and fork and play the thing like Tito Puente on the timbales.
RATA-TATA-TAP-TAP-TAP, RATA-TATA-TAP-TAP-TAP and ohh, here comes Celia Cruz with the vocals — Ríe! Llora! Vive tu vida y gózala toda. And enjoy it all we did. There’s a reason for the “Kan Kan” moniker, too — that ring of pork rind is said to resemble the outer frill of a can-can dancer’s underskirt. ¡Azúcar!
So, if it’s the porchetta you want (and believe me, you want it), get a leg up and put in an order sooner than later. They’ve been known to run out of the signature offering now that word about the restaurant, and about Bigio — a Culinary Institute of America grad who ran his own restaurants in Puerto Rico — has gotten out.
I’d just as soon return for the empanadillas ($9) stuffed with beef and onions as I would for finger-stick alcapurrias ($8) — ground beef-stuffed fritters fashioned from yautia root and green plantains. They dip effortlessly into the provided pink sauce, but ask for a bottle of pique (chili peppers in vinegar) or, better yet, their yellow hot sauce. We bathed the rellenitos ($9), crisp, delicately fried yuca balls filled with beef, into the latter and wowza! what a winning combination.
Then there’s peppery morcilla ($10), a dark, porky, rice-filled sausage that shows off Bigio’s skills as a hot dogger. And hot it is. “Is it too hot?” asked a server walking past my table. “You’re asking the wrong person,” I said. “I like it hot.” But for those who don’t, the longaniza pork sausage ($10) is a right-proper banger too.
No question: Meat rules here, just as it does at Crocante Rotisserie Kitchen, the small diner/take-out operation Bigio runs in Kissimmee. But one dish you can get here that you can’t in Kissimmee is the churrasco ($30). It’s a pretty skirt of meat served with chimichurri and two sides. I chose cornbread and boiled yuca with mojo. If I had to order again, I’d go with the maduros and a cup of the pink beans. The latter was more like a comforting soup. Specialty sides of fat sweet potato rounds (add $1.50) and rice with pigeon peas (add $2.50) were choice choices with the rotisserie chicken ($17).
I slurped on fresh passion fruit juice ($5) in between bites but, admittedly, eyed a mojito being made at the striking bar in the center of the room. Next time, I thought to myself, but, then again, I thought that to myself after seeing the pastelon burger (it’s a sweet plantain sandwich) on the menu, and the mofongo with lobster too.
Hell, next time, the restaurant may have a separate take-out wing, a live music stage, additional local art on the walls (Bigio is a real supporter) and, yep, more menu items. Honestly, I don’t know when the man sleeps. “I get here at 6 a.m.,” he said, and it’s clear he loves every second of it.
Oh, he does all the desserts too, like trembly tembleque ($9), a coconut panna cotta topped with bits of dried mango. I scooped a bit, wiggled it in my spoon, then mischievously sucked it into my mouth much to the chagrin of my dining comrade who shot me a chiding look.
“Don’t play with your food.”
[location-1]Related Stories
This article appears in Feb 1-7, 2023.