It’s black and oily and it looks like a hapless rat, its rib cage filled to overflowing with cloves of roasted garlic. The rodent’s pungent odor wafts through the air as soon as the waitress leaves the kitchen with my entrée, plopped on the plate between the mashed potatoes and the sauerkraut. I catch my breath, thinking that this would be completely inedible had the chef not removed its head and tail. As it is, I think I can stomach... Read more