You knew after my last posting that it wouldn't be long before my longing for smoke would be satisified. It took less than a week for me to give into my craving, hitting Chelsea's RUB - Righteous Urban BBQ - earlier tonight with a similarly 'cue smitten pal.
We were both hoping that a half slab of the restaurant's slow-smoked, tender Pork Spareribs and slices of premium Hereford BBQ Beef Brisket would satiate.
Not so much. They were okay. They just didn't take us back to Texas or anything.
But, even so, we were impressed by RUB -- Not by the food, but by our waitress.
Her name was Teri and, blonde ponytail bobbing back n' forth, she sashayed around the floor with a get-it-done attitude, a bright smile and just enough sass to keep the tips rolling in. Truthfully, she was a marvel of fine service. In the blink of an eye, she offered up info about RUB's Vegas outpost to one table, took beer orders and turned the TV to the Michigan-Duke game for another, knowingly recommended the choice of coleslaw over greens to an indecisive twosome, and then, using her mind-reading super-powers, brought me a fresh glass of Iced Tea just as I was thinking about ordering one.
A word to RUB: She's a keeper. I strongly recommend you give her the busiest shifts -- and let her train others -- before Danny Meyer or another hospitality-focused restauranteur snaps her up.
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