Everything comes off a wood-fired offset, cooked the morning of. When it’s gone, it’s gone.
Salt, pepper, post oak, fourteen hours. The one everything else gets judged against.
The point end, cubed and put back on the smoker until the edges give up.
St. Louis cut, pulled the moment they bend but before they fall off the bone.
Santa Maria's idea, cooked over Texas oak and sliced thin against the grain.
Cubed and glazed. Order one, regret it, order another.
Smoked low, then finished hot so the skin actually snaps.
Smoked, then braised until it comes apart on its own. Only when there's any.
Half a bird, brined overnight, skin worth eating on its own.
The one nobody orders, and then regrets not ordering. Bring a cooler.
Placeholder lineup and pricing — nothing here is final.
Cook days, start to finish.
Empty slots — real photos to come.