Stop us if you’ve heard this one before:
A rabbi walks into a bar...
... becue joint.
Oh, good. You’re not stopping us.
So allow us to explain Milt’s Barbecue for the Perplexed, a refined house of ’cue in East Lakeview where the kitchen is certified kosher, the bourbon tastes like apple pie and all the profits go to charity, opening today.
You’re probably a little confused. So let us back up.
The name plays on everyone’s favorite 12th-century philosophical treatise, The Guide for the Perplexed. And Milt, well, Milt is just the owner’s uncle. And each month, a different charity will receive 100% of the profits (first up: a local public school). But none of that is relevant right now.
Here’s what you need to know. There’s no pork. Or mac and cheese. But there’s beef spare and short ribs, which are smoked with apple and hickory. There’s also smoked chicken. And that infused bourbon. And burgers, fried okra, salmon, black-eyed peas, beef bacon and big fat Romanian hot dogs.
Porklessness aside, it’s basically just a modern barbecue joint: an upbeat hideaway where green subway tiles meet distressed wooden planks, and three large circular booths create a good midweek spot for inhaling various sauce-slathered things and knocking back a Bourbon Palmer (lemonade and Maker’s Mark).
You know, if that’s kosher with you.
A rabbi walks into a bar...
... becue joint.
Oh, good. You’re not stopping us.
So allow us to explain Milt’s Barbecue for the Perplexed, a refined house of ’cue in East Lakeview where the kitchen is certified kosher, the bourbon tastes like apple pie and all the profits go to charity, opening today.
You’re probably a little confused. So let us back up.
The name plays on everyone’s favorite 12th-century philosophical treatise, The Guide for the Perplexed. And Milt, well, Milt is just the owner’s uncle. And each month, a different charity will receive 100% of the profits (first up: a local public school). But none of that is relevant right now.
Here’s what you need to know. There’s no pork. Or mac and cheese. But there’s beef spare and short ribs, which are smoked with apple and hickory. There’s also smoked chicken. And that infused bourbon. And burgers, fried okra, salmon, black-eyed peas, beef bacon and big fat Romanian hot dogs.
Porklessness aside, it’s basically just a modern barbecue joint: an upbeat hideaway where green subway tiles meet distressed wooden planks, and three large circular booths create a good midweek spot for inhaling various sauce-slathered things and knocking back a Bourbon Palmer (lemonade and Maker’s Mark).
You know, if that’s kosher with you.
