Shorty's

Wifey's on some weird new fad diet, where you have a milkshake or something, and one regular meal per day. The only detail I know is that the powder to make the shakes is the same price as cocaine...

Anyway -- she likes a big protein meal, and suggested we go to Shorty's barbecue tonight. I never, ever turn down the chance to go there.

Shorty's has been in the same location since 1950. At the time it was built, it was truly in the sticks -- a waypoint between South Miami and the Keys. Now, a stand of highrises, Downtown Dadeland, is right behind the Metrorail station behind it.

The restaurant burned down in the 80s, but they rebuilt it. It's ALWAYS crowded. At peak lunch and dinner times, there's a line. Tonight, at 5 pm, Wifey and I got right in.

I first visited in, I think, 1970. My Uncle Abe and Aunt Lorraine LOVED the place, as I did. My parents didn't. They just never got used to real smoky barbecue flavor.

During college, Shorty's was a go to for lunch and dinner --only 5 minutes south of campus, and a great take out place for Canes tailgates...

Once, years ago, Wifey and I tried their brisket of beef, and loved it. That year, we ordered their takeout for our Rosh Hashonah dinner. Leave it to Wifey.

Anyway, my mother in law loved it. "Dis is REAL Jewish brisket!" she proclaimed, thinking we got the meat from the usual deli, Roasters and Toasters. We laughed --knowing the Jewish brisket came to its flavor next to heaping slabs of pork...

Speaking of which -- a few years ago, I ran into a judge friend of mind, who introduced me to the Shorty's owner, a guy about my age. I think he bought the place from the original Shorty...

Anyway, the owner is a Jew. How great. Probably South Dade's biggest purveyor of pork is a Hebrew.

So tonight, the food was delicious. I had corn on the cob drenched in butter, and chicken and baby backs. Wifey had barbecued chicken breast, and sweet potato, and tomato slices.

Our waitress, Sade ("like the singer") was a lovely young lady. It was terrific.

We completed our Saturday night date with a trip to Home Depot, to buy a sink for our powder room. Our long time cleaning lady, Miriam, is a klutz, and somehow smashed a soap dispenser into the bowl, with such force that it looks like she took a sledgehammer to it.

She offered to pay. I laughed. The night she wreaked her domestic havoc, Wifey and I had dinner at Canton. My cookie fortune said "Important Things aren't Things."

How did the cookie know?