In the never-ending quest for new and different Columbus food experiences, the Red Sox Fan and I journeyed to Dinin’ Hall today. There we found the Swoop food truck and . . . pig ears.
Crispy pig ears, to be precise, with smoky lemon tartar sauce. When I asked the food truck proprietor about that option, he stated, with admirable simplicity, that that statement described the dish as concisely and clearly as possible. Initially the RSF and I resisted the temptation to sample the sensory organ of a swine, and I got the cheeseburger and chicken sliders instead — which were fantastic. But the lure of the porcine auditory organ was too strong to resist, and we later gave in to our animal urges. (Those of you who always eat the ears of chocolate Easter rabbits first may understand the primal forces driving our decision.)
The crispy pig ears turned out to be crunchy and delicious, and a fun thing to nosh on during a conversation. Swoop — which describes itself as Columbus’ Emergency Hunger Response Team — clearly has made the short list of must-try Capital City food truck options.
Wilbur was a Christmas gift from Alex Sardo to his wife, Missy, and he quickly became a member of the family. A few months later, a neighbor brought the pig to the attention of “The Thicket at Cypresswood Community Improvement Association,” which concluded that Wilbur was not the kind of “common” and “traditional” pet permitted by association rules and sent the Sardos a letter saying Wilbur had to go.
The Sardos went to court, and on Monday Judge Mike Engelhart ruled that a Vietnamese pot-bellied pig is a household pet not bred for commercial purposes. He also noted that “Homeowner’s associations are there, on one hand, to maintain a neighborhood in a particular way, but they also have responsibilities not to infringe too much on homeowner’s use of their land the way they see fit.”
Hear, hear! The ruling is a victory not only for pot-bellied pigs, but also for people who yearn to be free from the nosy intrusions of busybody neighbors who want to control how other people live. This isn’t a case of people raising hogs in their backyard or having a lion for a pet. Wilbur was a well-mannered pig who was kept in the home, didn’t cause trouble, and brought some joy to the lives of the Sardos. Why should neighbors raise a stink, rather than doing the neighborly thing and keeping their opinions to themselves? If Wilbur’s story causes even one homeowner’s association to back off, he’s served the interests of mankind.
Somewhere, a spider named Charlotte and a rat named Templeton are happy that Wilbur was judicially recognized as “some pig” — and no doubt “humble” as well.