I hit up this spot on the edge of Little Italy that is practically the antithesis of anything related to Italian cuisine… if you don’t count meat-sweats and taking a nap after a big meal. We’re talking about BBQ, and not backyard pits that you nonno tirelessly tends to in between hosing down the driveway and fertilizing tomato plants – but the likes of which will make you question everything you’ve ever known about what you think you know.
I’ve been following the couple behind BBQ Black Strap for a while now. As they documented their travels through the southern states in a barbecue pilgrimage, I drooled over their twitpics of BBQ for breakfast lunch and dinner, and knew it was love at first rub… if y’know what I’m saying. So when they let it be known that they were opening up a barbecue joint of their own, it was on top of my hit list… and by “hit list” , I mean a place whose food I will murder with my face.