I’ve developed a new theory of kashrut, whereby keeping kosher one earns points to be splurged on a treif extravaganza. Eschewing dairy because of my lactardation, the occasional shrimp or goat meal has been all that’s stopped me from perfect quasi-kosher status. Dinosaur BBQ, a “honky-tonk rib joint” imported to New York City from my hometown of Syracuse, seemed the perfect place to cash in my kashrut points. And no matter what, I knew I would not run into my rabbi.
Arriving at eight o’clock on a Tuesday night with a friend but not reservations, (both the calling in type and the emotional type) we were seated in twenty minutes, and offered the drink menu. The selection included an ample section from the storied region of Central New York (“Dinosaur Ape Hanger Ale,” from Syracuse), standard beers, and a selection of wines, chosen for “BBQ compatibility.”
Passing on the drinks, I instead took in the surroundings. Big, brash, with a cavernous interior, Dinosaur still manages to maintain a homely feel, with friendly servers and walls bedecked with campy old movie posters and advertisements. (My favorite being an advertisement from the South Memphis Stock Yards, urging “Enjoy Meat For Health.)
We decided on the half-rack of ribs and the pulled pork sandwich, with sides of Syracuse style salt potatoes, simmered greens, barbeque beans and BBQ Fried Rice. The meal appeared after only ten minutes, looking porky and delicious. The pulled pork was a bit dry — I had to dab on some barbeque sauce — but the ribs were perfect. Bathed delicately in sauce, and with meat so tender a light tug of the teeth took it right of the bone, well worth the splurge of my kashrut savings.
We nibbled on the sides throughout the meal, though for the most part they were uninspiring. The veggies were inedible. The Syracuse-style salt potatoes were merely salted potatoes in a tangy cream. The BBQ rice was equally disappointing, with measly dry vegetables detracting from the rice’s flavor. The beans, as expected, were phenomenal: creamy and full-flavored, sweet but not overpoweringly so.
We polished off the ribs, and could have stomached another half rack and still left with a smile. BBQ ribs, I must admit, is one thing missing from
the Jewish gastronomical lexicon.
