I’m running out of BBQ joints I’ve
heard of so I have been relying on a list I’ve made on my phone, adding a BBQ
joint any time someone mentions it, then picking blindly. Someone at some point
told me to go to RJ’s in Mission, Kansas and when I woke up with a BBQ jones
RJ’s was at the top of the list. I picked up Carrie Zemel from Bar Prep class
and crossed the border, although the drive only took about 10 minutes from
UMKC’s campus.
RJ’s looked like a typically
authentic Kansas City BBQ joint from the outside, small, brick and plain, but
unfortunately no smoke flowed from the roof, a bad sign. Inside, RJ’s is quaint
and homey, but unfortunately clean. I know this seems weird, but the cleaner
and establishment looks, the worse the BBQ tends to taste.
“They are trying to create the
impression of a barbecue dive atmosphere, but it’s not. They’re playing easy
listening,” Zemel joked. They did in fact play at least two songs from the
Dirty Dancing soundtrack and several others that could have easily been fit
into the plot.
“It’s a Johnson County dive,” Zemel elucidated.
Zemel explained that a lot of people from Johnson County, where she’s from,
don’t want to go into a true dive like Arthur Bryant’s , LC’s or Perry Foster’s.
It seems that RJ’s brought the dive atmosphere to them with clean floors, sans
health code violations. This way RJ’s
can “cater to the crowd without deviating too far from barbecue expectancy,”
Zemel elaborated.
A few ribbons hung on the wall and a
full section was devoted to John Wayne. When we asked our waitress, who greeted
us with a welcoming smile, why the Duke was so prevalent, but she wasn’t really
sure, and only knew that the owner really liked Wayne. She served speedily,
efficiently and friendly, and our food arrived swiftly for a sit-down,
waitress-served restaurant.
I ordered the Shack Stack, 9 ounces
of up to three meats on lightly-toasted white bread, fries and beans. The menu
says “slow-smoked meats,” but I really didn’t taste any smoke, or flavoring, on
either the beef or the pork that I had stacked between the toasted bread. Both
meats were dry and desperate for sauce, although once their thirst was quenched
they blended well with both sauces. I’m guessing that both were cooked the day
before, although both were of high quality for a pulled meat sandwich with
little gristle or visual fat.
Toasting the bread, a genius
adaptation on traditional KC BBQ presentation, maintained the sandwich’s
structural integrity. I soaked the meat in sauce and the bread didn’t tear, didn’t
rip, didn’t flounder in the face of sticky-wet diversity. Zemel appreciated
that the toasted bread gave her extra time before the bread gets soggy. “I didn’t
need a fork until the last few bites,” she added.
Zemel ordered the Memphis Po’ Boy.
If you’re wondering about the pictures of this sandwich, I forgot to take them
before she chowed down. She said that if the meat was dry she couldn’t tell
because of the coleslaw, which stayed crunchy even when drenched in sauce. Zemel
loved the Po’ Boy, composed of pork and served on a warm French roll.
The plain navy beans, soaked with shreds
of pork, in average sauce.
The cheesy corn bake was thick and
creamy, and mixed with chunks of ham. The ham provided the concoction a
slightly salty taste. The corn was a little curdled, as if it had been sitting
for a while, but we both enjoyed it.
The fries, crispy and covered in
seasoned salt (I think), probably came from a bag. The thin cuts of potato,
though, were prepared properly with care. I liked them, but they weren’t
anything special.
And now introducing, the star of the
show, RJ’s sauce. Two sauces, in clear squeeze bottles sat on the table. The
Original, sweet and delicious, really stood out and brought the meat and fries
up a level. A strong taste of honey and brown sugar clearly led the way, but a tanginess
corralled the strong sweet senses, saddled and controlled them. A hint of heat
and a vignette of vinegar rounded the sauce out. Like I said, the meat needed
to be drenched, but once I tasted the sauce my complaint disappeared. I was
ecstatic to have an excuse to smother, to drown my sandwich in delicious sauce.
The Hot seemed like the original,
but with more hotness. Duh, right? The heat, chased by a strong peppery flavor,
swarmed my mouth, inflamed my taste buds, but did not overwhelm my senses.
With such scrumptious sauce, though,
we wished there had been more napkins sitting on the table. Another sign of
great BBQ is napkins or paper towels on the table, implying that you should
enjoy your food so as not to notice the mess you make until the end.
Zemel was correct when she described
RJ’s as a Johnson County dive. If you’re worried about a BBQ joint’s
cleanliness, then RJ’s is a good fit for you. RJ’s would also be worth it, for the
sauce alone, if you’re around Roe Blvd. or in Mission and really want some BBQ.
Overall, the establishment was middle of the road for Kansas City, but I
enjoyed my meal and the service was friendly.
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