For this Back of the House photo essay, we spent an evening in the kitchen with Chef Dan Bonanno and his team at A Pig in a Fur Coat.
From the outside, A Pig in a Fur Coat’s understated grey exterior and subtle signage lead into a cozy, familial dining space with a community table at its center. Lots of wood. Warm lighting. And yes, a portrait of a pig…in a coat. The vibe is inviting, low-key and creative, much like Chef Dan himself.


We set up camp in the long and narrow kitchen as the crew waited patiently for the evening’s first guests to arrive. Once we were settled, Dan turned to me and admitted that he wasn’t exactly sure why we wanted to visit because they were “boring.” He said, “We’re not loud or partiers or anything like that.” I assured him that we didn’t come to be entertained and that they were far from boring.
Seriously. Not. Boring.
In fact, their zen-like execution and off-the-chart flavors were exciting as hell.


As dinner service picked up, Dan explained that he is all-too-often asked to define what type of food he makes. I could tell he was burnt out on this question, but of course, I wanted to know the answer. He said, “I just do me. I don’t do things for sales. I like the art and joy of it.” He does what he feels like and puts his own spin on it, and it showed in each and every plate that left the kitchen.



Later, Sous Chef Jonathan Huttsell took us to the butcher room to see the batch of pig heads just in from Lonely Oak Farm for Yum Yum Fest. When we returned to the kitchen, Dan told us more about their approach: “Kill an animal, use all of the parts, don’t burn it. Do it right, and give it a proper send off.” Right on.


After watching the crew all evening, I finally asked Dan, what makes his team hum? What’s their secret ingredient? His response: “I don’t like egos and show-offs. That’s not what we’re about.”


Dan Bonanno and his team at A Pig in a Fur Coat clearly let their food speak for itself. And it speaks volumes. If you haven’t visited, visit soon.






More Stories by This Author
Edible in your mailbox