Max & David's

My sister-in-law, Patty, glanced up from the menu at Max & David's with a rebellious look and laid down this commandment with unexpected umph.

"I am not going to get the fish!"

The pronouncement took me by surprise, at first. Over the dozen or so review meals we've shared over the years, she had dutifully tiptoed across menus strewn with land mines for a kosher eater. With all pork, shellfish, and dishes mixing dairy with meat (let alone any nonkosher meat) crossed off her list, she inevitably settled on fish or veggies. It seemed a reasonably flexible approach, given that even stricter kosher Jews probably wouldn't have come out to eat with me at all. But for some reason, I'd come to believe she actually just liked fish.

That was until I saw her eyes widen at the sight of Max & David's rib eye. And, lo, this wasn't just any rabbinically approved steak. This was a Let-There-Be-Meat! slice of flesh, a grilled bone-in slab of such biblical proportions that this Turkish-spiced chop perfumed the entire table with its savor when it landed.

Thick and tender, seasoned with an exotic Baharat rub of cumin, cinnamon, and clove, this beef was splendid by any standard. But considering it was glatt kosher - meeting the strictest standard of Jewish dietary laws - I can see why this contemporary eatery by Robin and Steven Katz has become the talk of Elkins Park since it opened in a new strip mall in October.

The other kosher options around Philadelphia are truly dismal and few, with the exception of casual Israeli falafel and shawarma shops, like those operated under the Mama's name. Only four restaurants in the entire region are approved by the orthodox rabbinate to serve meat. (A few more are acceptable to the less restrictive conservative supervisors).

But Max & David's is more than just a mensch amongst unmensch-ionables. With a menu that ranges from five-spice roasted duck to Indian-curried chicken and ice "creams" made with coconut and almond milk, it is a coming-out party for the possibilities of kosher cookery.

The kitchen isn't always successful (I could kvetch about the industrial rolls, the limp fries, the overly icy sorbets, and more). The awkward service staff still needs polish, and the bare Formica tabletops make this dining room feel too much like a gussied-up hotel coffee shop for a place charging $23-plus an entree.