Wabash BBQ...This is what I'm talking about

We we passed a mass of wood piled outside a small red building. Smoke poured out of the little shack with consistent fervor. We had driven about an hour from UMKC's campus on a tip from Dan Thode's boss that Wabash BBQ in Excelsior Springs has the best ribs in Kansas City, a claim we’ve heard before. Hampton Williams was only too happy to join.

Wabash, open since 1997, is located in an old Wabash Railroad depot and the restaurant follows the theme with menu sections like “Conductor’s Favorites,” and “Engineers Entrees.”

Wabash is everything I dream of when I imagine old fashioned authentic barbeque and the menu’s slogan explains why: “Always Smokin’ Something Good.” I don’t think this is puffery.

While we waited in the bar, a tobacco smoking area, for our meal we watched several aluminum trays each topped with aluminum foil and filled with piled meat pass by us from the smoke shack, a separate building, on their way to the kitchen. There are two smoke-free dining areas on either side of the kitchen.

The plain plaster walls were laden with railroad and music memorabilia. Wabash has live music regularly and has a stage set up out back called the Blues Garden. Next time I return I’ll be staying for a show.

Between the three of us we ordered two baskets of Sweet Corn Nuggets from “All Aboard.” The nuggets were crispy on the outside and had the consistency of sweet cream corn on the inside. They were simple, rich and tasty but nothing particularly special. We should have only ordered one basket because the portions were ample. The nuggets were served with ranch that was creamy and lacked the tartness I’ve noticed in many ranches. We theorized that it might be homemade.

Thode and Williams both ordered Short End Rib Dinners which each came with two of Wabash’s Signals and Switches, or sides. They both got beans and fries.

Williams willingly relinquished one of his ribs, and I have to tell you it made me for the first time question my control group. The meat was a little tough, although I thought, in a nice way. The juice gushed in my mouth and the meat fell apart at a touch from my teeth. The cartilage was almost edible after wading in its own juices for so long. Each bite released sweet soft smoky flavor. The meat quality was a little fatty but in a good way, and I’m usually of the school that cuts off the fat and throws it to the dogs. I ripped it apart and gobbled it down.

I have no idea how long this meat had been smoking but compared to what I’ve tasted elsewhere, Wabash just might always be smokin’.

Williams said that part of his slab was a little overcooked for his taste and that that end was a bit burned. However, Williams explained, “I don’t think I got the best ribs they ever served, but I see how this at its best would be the best. That beings said, when my father is in town, I’ll bring him here,” a particularly lofty compliment coming from Williams.

Conductor’s Favorites provided an excellent variety of sandwich options. Brisket, ham, turkey, sliced pork and pulled pork were all available in denominations of a quarter-pound, third-of-a-pound, half-pound and 12 ounces, which is an attribute of which I am rather fond.

The Wabash, the 12 ounces of pulled pork that I ordered, came on a hoagie which had been heated or maybe lightly toasted. I know from seeing inside the kitchen it came from a bag, which is not a problem considering most of my favorite joints just give you a few slices of bread.

The hoagie was soft, fluffy and warm and coated with some kind of film. I wondered aloud if it could have been buttered, and Williams noted that it was likely just juice from the meat they were handling. Cue the Homer Simpson gluttony groan.

The meat spread, spilled all over the plate creating a mad mass, a manly mess. The bottom piece of the hoagie had been soaked with juice, but not enough to tear it apart thus the integrity of sandwich was maintained.

The Wabash immediately became one of my favorite sandwiches. The pork was a bit rough and tight yet juicy and almost damp. I loved the dichotomy of meat which had been cooked into slight toughness maintaining so much gravy. And, in every bite I tasted a hint of hickory and more than a splash of smooth smoke.

You may be surprised that I’ve waited so long to talk about the sauce. Well, that’s because the meat was that damn good. The sandwich did not initially come with any sauce on it as the meat stood on its own four amputated legs.

However, the sauce sat conveniently on the table in a squeeze bottle. I plopped some on my plate and slathered more on my sandwich. Wabash’s sauce was an original, something I have yet to taste in my culinary travels. The clearly molasses base birthed a rich, sweet sauce, that had about the consistency of thick syrup.  

While this sandwich may have had one of the lesser sauce to meat ratios that I’ve ever eaten on purpose, I loved the sauce, I adore it. The sauce and the sandwich truly worked as a team, complementing each other’s strengths, blending into each other’s tastes. To make sure I got enough of the sauce, I dipped my fries in it, which brings me to my next point.

The standard wedge fries from a frozen package were disappointing. They weren’t bad by any means but they could have been crispy. They seemed like maybe they had been dressed and waiting for the rest of the party, then got tired.

While I don’t blame a restaurant for the occasional preparation lapse, I encourage Wabash’s owners to cut their own potatoes. This delightful meat deserves a little more respect in the form of a properly prepared potato sidekick. But, they have been successful enough to open up another store in Chillicothe so I guess they don’t need my advice.

I tasted some of the baked beans which were standard, simple and tangy.  With only plain navy beans and no meat, this side seemed to be kind of a throwaway compared to other aspects of the restaurant.

The service was excellent. My water glass was almost never empty and when the woman working in the office, who I presume to be an owner, saw that the lunch crowd was picking up she refilled our drinks and asked if we needed anything else.

Go to Wabash BBQ. Go out of your way or find a way to make it on your way, but go to Wabash BBQ.

Barbeque Criteria

As I explained in the last post the point of this blog is to guide Kansas Citians and especially their visitors to the best BBQ establishment possible. I should have made this clearer when I started the blog, but then again, maybe I was still figuring it out.

When I'm in any city for a limited time, I want to get their best and I can come back for the rest. When I was in New York, I made an effort to find dining experiences that I couldn't get in Kansas City or anywhere else.

The goal of this blog is to guide visitors, and locals who should know anyway, to the best BBQ experience as possible. The best portrayal of any food style begins at authenticity so I aim to lead you in that direction.

I have researched Kansas City BBQ thoroughly, through practice in particular, but also through reading history and articles I found online. The base of Kansas City BBQ is slow-cooked meat, the kind of preparation that takes hours and in a few cases days, and sauce, lots of sauce.

Smoking the meat over a variety of woods will leave the meat with a special flavor that you just can't get with instant smoke spice. If you're wondering whether or not an establishment smokes their meat, look for a smokestack, but also try tasting the sauce and meat separately.

After the meat is smoked, it is lathered in and sometimes soaked in SAUCE. As I've mentioned before I love sauce so this category is particularly important to me. Kansas City sauce is usually tomato- or molasses-based and usually has a healthy portion of paprika.

I love KC style sauce, but I appreciate when an establishment wanders off the beaten path. I'm not looking for any kind of sauce in particular as variety is in fact the spice of life. While I know I won't like every kind, I'll try to give a fair description of it in general and will try to attend each restaurant with someone else in case our tastes happen to differ.

The meat doesn't need to be covered in sauce when I get it. I accept that not everyone wants their meat drenched in thick liquid, but the establishment should have their sauce readily available for over-consumption and on the table is preferable.

The meat doesn't have to be top grade if you prepare it well enough. Although no one wants to eat low-grade Subway-like meat or SoyBQ. If SoyBq exists, gross. If it doesn't, don't get any ideas. I find that the best pulled pork meat has a little bit of fatiness to it, which gives it an extra shot of succulence.

I find that sides can often make or break a dining experience. They way I see it, if an establishment makes the best sandwhich or ribs, then places crinkle cut fries from a frozen bag next to it, they are disrespecting their own dish. While the main course should be able to stand alone, even Batman needed Robin. For example, I like crispy homeade fries, or french fried potatoes I should say. I like to taste the potato's "meat," not just the oil or fat in which it was fried.

While taste is the most important part, atmosphere can be alluring. In general I like a restaurant with its own thing going on. BBQ joints are often divey and may seem a little dirty. BBQ is one genre, though, where these descriptions are a bonus.

Service is relevant, but again if the food is good, I really don't care if you treat me like crap, at least when it comes to BBQ. I'm not sure why I make this distinction, but I do.

I hope this post gives a little better guide as to how I have been/will be judging each BBQ establishment I've been to. Thanks for reading.

Fiorella's Jack Stack...addendum

After receiving several complaints on my facebook wall about my last post, I realized I was unclear as to my full opinion about Fiorella's Jack Stack Barbeque.

Due to the abundant positive press and exaggerated word-of-mouth good will that I regularly hear about Jack Stack, I went a little Fox News and overcorrected. Because I believe that Jack Stack is overrated, I took the more negative approach to even things out. But that wasn't fair, and that wasn't balanced.

I do not retract anything I stated in the previous post. I believe that Jack Stack is a poor impression of Kansas City barbeque. However, I did not intend to imply that you should never eat at Jack Stack. It would never be my idea to go there, but if that is where the rest of a group wanted to go, I would definitely be willing. In fact, this last trip I invited myself along.

However, if you have never had KC barbeque Jack Stack is not the place to start.

About a month ago a friend's acquaintances visited him from England. They were in Kansas City for less than a week and their chances of returning are slim. They were taken to one barbeque establishment and it was Jack Stack. This error is the kind that I'm trying to prevent.

While Jack Stack does have great meat, all-around solid sides and splendid service, the restaurant is not an accurate depiction of historic Kansas City barbeque. It is an adaptation. I tried to make the point that Jack Stack is not authentic Kansas City barbeque and that's my problem with it. That and the bland sauce and lack of smoky taste, but these issues are directly related.

Some friends argued that Jack Stack is original or unique and that I should judge it differently. This may be a fair point if Jack Stack was original or unique. While it may be different from every othe barbeque establishment in Kansas City, it is far from unique. Jack Stack is simply another representation of most other restaurants on the Plaza and I judge it by no standards but my own.

This leads me to believe I have also been unclear as to how I am/have been judging each establishment, and I'll get another post out about that after I finish this huge paper due in my Business Planning class.

In general though I have been/will be judging on authenticity, SAUCE, meat (preparation and quality), sides and service although if the food is good enough I'm indifferent to service.

I hope this has cleared things up. Thank you for reading and please continue to comment and complain. I encourage you to comment or complain on the blog itself and not on facebook. Also, I encourage you not to call me an idiot for having an opinion.

Special thanks to Nolan Lawrence for reading the post in front of me and explaining how it came off so that I could give a fairer assessment.

Fiorella's Jack Stack...Soulless Corporate Barbeque

This weekend I went with a group of friends to Fiorella’s Jack Stack Barbeque on the Plaza. Before I walked in the door I could tell Jack Stack was not a standard Kansas City barbeque joint. Jack Stack is located on the Plaza in a white brick building with maroon awnings above the entryways. A simple red neon sign and bull statue lead you inside. The restaurant had no chimney from which smoke could billow, a bad sign.

When I walked through the door I did not enter a bbq joint, but a restaurant, an eating establishment with ostentatious chandeliers darned with fake electric candles. The walls in the foyer were brick and the floor was wooden. Right in front stood a large dark glazed wooden bar with a variety of bottles for mixing cocktails. The staff was polite as I told them I’d wait to be seated until my dining companions arrived. Yes, in Jack Stack they are dining companions.

Jack Stack represents most of the Plaza. Fake and fancy, an attempt to allow Kansas City’s ruling class a chance to eat “smoked” meat without having to leave the comfy confines of their Plaza. Jack Stack completely misses the point of what I’ve come to love about Kansas City barbeque. I mean, there’s a wine list for Pete’s sake. C’mon, man!

We sat in a dark red leather booth that wasn’t even ripped or torn once. The lights were dimly lit. Silverware lay on the table; yes the silverware was metal, rolled up tightly in maroon cloth napkins, no dispenser or roll of paper towels to wipe up gratuitous sauce. Against the wall, which separated us from the other customers, sat a shaker of KC All Purpose Rub, a salt shaker and a tall black pepper grinder. No sauce. You know how I feel about sauce.

My friends explained that Jack Stack is the place you take a date or client if you want to make a good impression but still eat bbq. Not my dates. Not my clients. Okay, maybe my clients, but if my date would prefer the soulless corporate experience of Jack Stack over one of the many old fashioned holes in the wall, I won’t be taking her out again.

The walls in the dining room were paneled with dark wood, halfway up switching to a soft dark yellow. Paintings and metal cow sculptures hang on the walls. Funny, I didn’t see any of the awards or newspaper articles that I have found at bbq dives like LC’s, Smoking Guns and Oklahoma Joe’s.

The restaurant was busy, even at 2 pm and filled with families, couples and groups, but not full to the point where we had to wait for a table. Each waiter wore black shoes, black slacks, a black apron and a black shirt.

The server was patient and polite while three of us waited for our fourth to arrive. The menus were oversized but extensive. Oh, and of course expensive. At least expensive compared to the portion size, although maybe I would have been more pleased had I gotten the combo special, but alas I have a control group to maintain.

I ordered the pulled pork as usual with a side of fries and got an order of cheese corn bake to go with it. The food arrived promptly and I immediately saw a difference between Jack Stack and most KC bbq joints. To start with, it was served on a glass plate. I was immediately disappointed by the portion, although you might not have been. I’m a glutton or else I guess I wouldn’t be blogging about bbq.

The sliced meat was served on a warm, fluffy French roll that had been cut in half. Between bread and meat was a plethora of lettuce, a few tomatoes and a pile of pickles. I despise pickles but this might be a plus for you. My fry portion was insufficient and the cup of cheese corn bake was small, but I ordered a small so I guess that makes sense.

What looked to be a manager in slacks, collared shirt in tie, brought the food to our table. A tie, at a barbeque restaurant you may ask? “Silly, pretentious and out of the barbecue’s character,” I answer. He asked us if we wanted more sauce so I lifted up the bun which revealed l lettuce and meat almost void of sauce. “Yeah, we’re going to need more sauce, I responded.” He returned with two small bowls, filled with the original and spicy respectively. Two small saucers for the WHOLE TABLE! This is the first time I’ve had to limit my sauce intake so as to be polite. Hell, it’s the first time I’ve ever felt like I had to be polite at all at any bbq institution.

The meat slices were neither thin, nor thick but they were fairly succulent. I barely tasted any smoky flavor, which is incredibly disappointing. I did enjoy the pork immensely. The meat was the tops if only it had been prepared with more care. It was hot, juicy enough, but just not prepared with the love you get when the meat is smoked for hours in an ancient smoker. The major complaint, other than the sauce deficiency, was that, when the meat was gone from one half, I still had bread and lettuce left over. At most KC bbq joints there is meat, having sloppily dropped on the plate, left after the bread has been devoured, to smother in sauce and wolf down with a fork.

The sauce was bland and disappointing. Maybe that’s why they give you so little. I could barely tell the difference between the spicy and the sweet and I used one for each half of my sandwich. The original sauce was light, thin, paprika based as is custom, and slightly sweet. I found the flavor to be as insufficient as the quantity. The spicy was bland too. This sauce had a little more vinegary taste and it was okay. Neither was bad, but neither was anything special. There was a little smoky taste to both sauces which I noticed when I dipped a French fry in them. Smokey sauce is a bad sign because it means that the meat is not smoked sufficiently or at all.

The fries were very good but nothing special. They were crispy, had a fresh potato taste and seemed homemade from the brown skin on the ends. They were not salty at all but that issue was easily remedied so I have no complaints about those.

The cheesy corn bake was deliciously creamy and had the consistency of a thick French onion soup. I tasted mainly corn and cheese, but really that’s all you need.

Some onion rings were carried by me, stacked on what looked like a ring toss pole, ascending inversely by size and looked to be thickly breaded and thickly cut. I immediately wished I had ordered some, at least as an appetizer.

My friend Nolan Lawrence, whose idea it was to visit Jack Stack, ordered a combo special with lamb ribs, beef burnt ends, beans, fries and a slice of bread. “Always get the lamb ribs,” Nolan suggested, explaining how they are tenderer than the other ribs, how the meat easily slips away from the bone.

Nolan further explained that he liked the burnt ends at Jack Stack better than anywhere else because he didn’t need to separate the fat from the meat. Here, he mentioned, “The fat is a treat,” as opposed to a hindrance, “That’s what keeps me coming back.” “It’s chewy, not stringy like you get at some other places,” he elaborated.

Nolan’s roommate Ryan Engels, ordered the trout with the cheesy potato bake for a side. The waiter did mention that you can have a choice of any side on the menu, even where it lists fries in particular. “I like to mix it up here. I’ve had the barbeque a number of times, but I’m going running tomorrow and this will drag me down less,” Ryan explained. Ryan enjoyed his meal but did not mention anything in particular. I’ll take the blame on that one. I should have asked him more questions, but hey, if you’re reading this to see how the trout is at a barbeque restaurant, I can’t help you.

Ryan brought up a good point though. Jack Stack subscribes to the standard Appleby’s, Cheesecake Factory corporate game plan, an impressive variety, where you can take a large group or a bickering family, and everyone will be satisfied, but nothing in particular sticks out.

Hampton Williams ordered the combo special, burnt ends and baby back ribs, with cheesy corn bake, baked beans and a slice of bread. I had two people at my table who ordered the beans and I didn’t even ask about them. I’m sorry and that’s all I have to say about that.

When I asked Hampton about the burnt ends he replied, “They were fine,” and say any more. He gave me the last two ribs which I gladly gobbled. The meat was a little dry, had no smoky flavor, but the skin which coated the bone was crispy and I greedily scraped it off with my teeth. The meat, again, was quite tasty, although it could have been juicier and should have had some smokiness to it.

In general, I’ll admit that Jack Stack does have an original dining experience. While most bbq restaurants in KC concentrate on the meat’s preparation and the sauce, Jack Stack concentrates on tendering high-quality meat and presentation.

Nolan explained, “You may like it prepared better somewhere else, but as far as ingredients, what they [Jack Stack] bring to the table is better.” I agree with this statement, but to me Jack Stack misses the point. In this blogger’s opinion barbeque IS about how you prepare it, not about the ingredients you start with. The care that is put into the sauce, the flavoring, the fact that your meat has been smoking for hours before you arrive is what makes Kansas City barbeque the best I’ve ever had. Jack Stack not only loses this, but scoffs at it.

In general though, all the sides and meals were solid. Everything looked good, but not a single dish made my mouth water. Further, this was the only time I’ve ever left a bbq restaurant in Kansas City without being completely full. I wasn’t still hungry but I could probably have eaten another whole sandwich.

Now if you’re on the Plaza and you don’t want to drive a short 10 minutes out of your way to either LC’s or Oklahoma Joe’s, or you’re with a client who might want a more formal atmosphere for a meeting, then go to Jack Stack. But, if you have friends from out of town, or you’re vising Kansas City, don’t be drawn in by the convenient location, the name-brand or the locals who tell you how great it is. Find a barbeque joint with some soul, with some style, with some backbone.