LC's Bar-B-Q

I'd like to apologize for the lack of pictures. I lifted my bun to pour the sauce on, meant to take another picture with the meat smothered, but then I started eating and I forgot about my journalistic integrity. Once I bit, I was lost in the succulence. But for the short conversation I had with LC, the man himself, I was completely absorbed in my meal.

Heading away from the plaza Volker turns into Swope which turns into Blue Parkway. Less than 10 minutes from the fancy plaza fixins', where the buildings get older, more dilapidated, the neighborhood gets a little rough, you can find a true diamond of Kansas City culinary delight, LC's Bar-B-Q. LC's has been in the same shack for 26 years, since 1986, a year before I was born.

I have to be honest with you about this post. I will not be unbiased but I'll try. LC's is my favorite BBQ place in all of Kansas City and that includes those I've visited in the subarbs in Kansas. I still have many to try but so far LC's keeps me coming back more than any other eating establishment in the whole metropolitan area except for maybe Winstead's and D'bronx which is due more to convenience.

Once I cross the Blue Parkway Bridge, I don't know its official name, I see a glimpse of LC's sign and then I immediately spy the smoke that constantly billows from the the smokestack. LC told me an anecdote about a man who came down from Michigan talking about liquid smoke. LC explained with a grin and a little disdain that we didn't have any of that down here.

I pull up into the tiny parking lot, there is more room around back, and I see through a window into the back room, storage for jugs and boxes piled and stacked everywhere. I grab one of the bars that lay criss-crossed on the front door, that match those on all the windows, pull and enter. It was about 2 pm so the place was mostly empty except for me, a cashier, a smoker, and LC who sat, laid back in his office chair, hands folded against his protruding belly. In front of him was his office, a desk leaned against the far wall with stacks of papers laid across it.

I ordered my customary pulled pork and fries, no soda as I'm trying to quit. Now, a friend of mine complains that the workers aren't polite at LC's, that they don't care about you or whether you're there or not. I'll admit the service can be a little stiff, maybe deliberately indifferent, but I don't go to LC's to be served. I go there to be fed. I wouldn't call them rude, but I wouldn't call them polite either.

After I ordered, the smoker opened the metal cabinet behind him, retrieving a hunk of pork as smoke filtered out into the open. He proceeded to slice the meat in front of my face as the cashier dropped a fresh batch of fries. I'll get back to the fries later. He sliced medium thick pieces of pork, dropping them on my plate then stacking them atop and below simple pieces of white bread, a pile of meat woven together contained by the grain.

On every table lay a scroll of paper towels, a bottle of ketchup (but who needs it?), and a bottle of LC's sauce. The meat, as you can see from the top picture, doesn't come with all that much sauce on it, but there's plenty waiting at the table. I lifted the bun, squirted a stream of sauce onto my pork, another onto my plate for dipping and took a grand gluttonous bite, sauce dripping from my lips, meat probably dropping from my mouth.

I should tell you that I don't cook enough to tell you what is in the sauce. My primary weakness as a reviewer will be that I can't always tell what it is I am describing but I'll do my best, and you can't ask for more than that so back off. However, my good friend Ryan Derks bought me a container of LC's spice powder for my birthday so I can list the ingredients that are in that: salt, sugar, paprika, dehydrated onions & garlic, monosodium glutamate, corn starch, spice extractives and not more than 2% soybean oil, tricaclium phosphate and spices. Its the spices that I couldnt' figure out.

The sauce has a special sweetness to it that I have tasted nowhere else. Many BBQ joints have sweet sauce but none have a sauce with the same sweetness as LC's. I'm sorry if this post lacks in specificity but until I receive some kind of training, you're going to have to deal with it. A light tanginess follows and I can't put my finger on that either. The sweet and tangy blend, allow the paprika, which is common in most KC BBQ, to take precedence but not overpower.

The pork, which as the smoker informed me is cooked for 4-6 hours, the beef for 6-8, was a little dryer than normal, but I still wouldn't say it was barren. The smoky, salty meat did contain juiciness, just saying that it has been more moist in the past. The meat was void of fat and perfectly complimented by LC's sauce. Have I mentioned I love the sauce?

Now, the fries. LC's has some of the best fries in town. Hell, I'd argue they are some of the best fries I've ever had and I love fries. I like good french fries about as much as I love sauce and only slightly more than I love other types of potatoes. The long, fat chunks of potatoes are fried and salted fresh. I should add that when I arrived there were fries laying, ready to be eaten but new potato chunks were dropped for me anyway. They are thick, crispy, and you can actually taste the potato unlike many establishments which have them sliced so thin and short that all you taste is fried.

While I sat, gorged, and pondered I overheard LC and the cashier discussing stocking issues, what they were out of, what they needed to order, when orders were coming. LC was quite concerned that the stock be replenished, that the customers not "suffer because of our weakness," as he put it while explaining to the cashier that they were to make something as customers came, not make a bunch ahead of time just because they were out. I wish I could tell you for sure what they were talking about, but it seemed rude to ask. It might have been kethcup, it might have been sauce. It might have been something I have no idea about. Anyway, LC seemed concerned with freshness and with quality. He has seemed cranky and distant in the past, but now I think he has just been watching his room, looking for faults in his product, and making sure the customers stay happy, albeit in a standoffish manner.

He told me about the new shoes his daughter got him and that he was disappointed about their being made in China. He said his hat, which he pointed out what a good hat, was made in China and asked where my St. Louis Cardinals cap was made, saying that it was probably made in China too, or Taiwan, or somewhere else far off. I looked and to both of our surprises it was made in the U.S.A. His general concern didn't seem to be one of xenophobia, only one of pride in producing an American product. I replied that at least they can't make BBQ like this in China. I know, a kissass move, but I meant it, and it drew a short chuckle and a wide grin from LC.

I finished my meal slurped some water to drown it down. Then, I furiously wiped off my hands, threw my trash away, thanked the cashier and LC, and walked out the door, my notebook slathered with sauce stains, my belly full, my cheeks bloated, my hands and mouth still somewhat sticky, and my craving quenched.

About me and my quest

I've been in Kansas City for going on three years now and have been searching for the best BBQ this city has to offer since shortly after I arrived. After investigating several sites I learned firsthand that my new home was a sauce city and I could not have been more pleased. One of my favorite things on the planet Earth is sauce. Hot sauce, sweet sauce, sour sauce, salty sauce, red sauce, orange sauce, white sauce, smooth sauce, creamy sauce, chunky sauce, mushy sauce, pulpy sauce, and gravy. When I order chicken wings they ask if I want ranch or bleu cheese. What do you think I tell them? If you guessed extra sauce instead, you guessed right. I like my meat covered, drenched, soaked, marinated, saturated, bathed in, no infused with mouth-watering sauce. Then, I dip it in the sprawling pile of savory juice I've squirted on my plate.

I came to Kansas City for law school by way of Columbia, MO where I attended Mizzou's journalism school. I'm from Columbia, IL, a small town just outside of STL so I'm unable to rep either major KC sports program, although I have tried. I do root for the Wizards from time to time. But when people ask me about Kansas City, I talk about the BBQ. I preach about the meat, slow-cooked and marinated in its own juices, the sauce, of which there is a vast variety, and the sides, which separate the good from the great. I've been repping KC BBQ everywhere I go, back home, CoMO, Fort Collins and Denver, Washington D.C., where I explained the glories of KC BBQ to delegates from across the nation over Independence Day weekend. I tell facebook and twitter all about my love for the local delicacies after complaining about the poor baseball. I've become an ambassador for Kansas City BBQ so I decided to tell the Internet.

One of the first things I noticed after I tried Oklahoma Joe's, Gates, Arthur Bryant's, and Jack Stack was that most of the locals only visit these few famous establishments, the same restaurants that the tourists attend. I knew there were more quality smokestacks and I wanted some firsthand knowledge and suggestions on what to try next because all the advertisements get kind of bumbled together online, one seeming as good as the next by the dolled up pictures and paid reviews. So, I asked many KC natives for their favorite BBQ joint and most would respond with the same few answers, Oklahoma Joe's, Gates, Arthur Bryant's, and Jack Stack. In a city that prides itself on its BBQ, people who brag about their hometown being the pinnacle of pulled pork perfection, many if not most, had only been to where the tourists flock. How can you say something is your favorite if you only have a handful of experience to compare it with? So, I dug deeper. I found foodies, BBQ lovers, sauce addicts like myself who don't take the brochure's word for it. Others who have searched, wandered, and eventually arrived at the several meat and sauce Meccas, the oases hidden in the desert. Wherever I was pointed, I went, I ate, I examined, and I savored.

For the record, the first time I eat at any BBQ joint I have the pulled pork, fries, and beans if I'm extra hungry. Also, if there is a side for which the restaurant is particularly well-known then I order that too. I tell you this because the pulled pork sandwhich and its friend, french fries, are my control group, the anchor that keeps me capable of contradiction and comparative analysis.

Here, I'm going to compare and contrast as many restaurants as I can visit before I leave town, whenever that is. I will reflect on previous visits, but will only write about a restaurant after having recently visited so as to have the tastes fresh in my mouth. I say with confidence that you can trust my BBQ judgment, although I know tastes differ. As an outsider I was not bogged down by biases born at a young age. I came to Kansas City with a fresh palate, a hearty appetite, and an insatiable hunger to find the best, as if that were possible. If you stumble on this site, know that you're in good hands, a glutton who analyzes everything he encounters, especially those things that he loves, like meat and sauce.

Now that I'm hungry, I'm heading to LC's. My favorite KC BBQ establishment. I'll get back to you later today.