Gilt Bar is real talk, peoples. Realer than a 3rd mortgage. Realer than a drunk krew of community organizers. Realer than ole boy who hacked into Baracks and B. Spears Twitter accounts. Realer than the HIV+, son.
Have you all seen this menu? How are we not fucking with this place? I’ll commit 1st-4th degree murder for this deliciousness. Lemme get that roasted bone marrow and red onion jam on toast. And them Anson Mills heirloom white grits w/ local white cheddar. Oh, and I’ll holler hard at those Kennebec Frites…I like my shits Kennebec’ed. While at it, add some Maple & bourbon glazed red wattle pork and the coal fired beef rib eye. Hook my plate up, waiter! And never forget my balls.
Ya heard? Thats the oven roasted, hand cut pork meatballs with brown butter and thyme. As Roy say, we’ll race you to the grave with this one cuz we’ll be ordering multiple plates of this. We’ll consume so heavy, ball sweat will be inevitable.