The Rub...Where barbecue has never gone before

I'm running out of barbecue places that anyone will vouch for so I pulled up my list and let my office partner, Josh Wiseman, pick lunch. He chose the Rub because he thought a place by that name had to be good. He chose correctly, although I didn't see or taste much to do with any rub. Chris Stratton joined and, lucky for me, volunteered to drive through the burbs and out to Olathe.

My first glimpse at the Rub, housed in a brand-new, small strip of chains, gave me a poor first impression. I walked in to find a brand-new clean restaurant, that reminded me, in its counter and table organization, of Chipotle, designed for efficiency and speed, a poor second impression.

Then my dining companions pointed me towards the Hillbilly and Hash Bowls and the single-serving ribs. The third impression is a charm I guess.

I ordered a pulled pork sandwich, fries, cheesy corn, beans, a single rib and an Orange Fanta.

The plentiful helping of dryish pulled pork, handed to me at the counter, sauceless on a plain white bun, retained some juice and possessed a soft tenderness. I didn't taste much if any smoke and it looked like the meat was all prepared in house, which did not have a smokestack. However, when I added the Clint sauce (I'll explain later) all my complaints were illeviated.

The rib, nice and tender, did taste like smoke and I'm not sure how. It maintained a little fat, but nothing out of the ordinary. The rib meat reached a level of easygoingness that I have not encountered often. The meat did not fall off the bone but was easily persuaded when we asked nicely. I've had better ribs but these were solid. I especially liked that they were sold individually.

Two sauces sat side-by-side on the table waiting to smother my sandwich. I was only to happy to oblige. The Original sauce led with sweetnesss followed quickly by a sharp but light tang and vinnegar balance, and a slow lagging pepper kick trailed behind. While I liked the other sauce better with the meat, this sauce worked especially well with the fries.

The other sauce, clearly composed of mollasses, had no name, so let's call it Clint. Clint's hearty richness inundated my mouth, surrounded my tastebuds and took them hostage. Clint had a lot going on and we had trouble isolating all the ingredients. I can tell you that this balanced sauce caused me to smother, to drown, to soak my sandwich. The pork must have considered it an honor to bathe in such a divine mixture.



Josh Wiseman and Chris Stratton

The cheesy corn seemed to be composed of more cream than cheese, and accentuated the crisp corn's taste, which we all appreciated. Many establishments smother the corn in so much cheese that you can't even taste the starch and that much cheese gets old for me. The small bowl's contents, spiced with a little pepper, had more of a whipping cream taste than cheese, although cheese was still prevalant.

The fries were flash fried, meaning they were fried then refried, thus sealing in the grease. I like a little crispier fry, but these handcut fries, messy and simple (not spiced), were still delectable.



Hillbilly Bowl

I tried some of Statton's cornbread and fell in love. The sweet-honey taste still lingers in my mouth. The dense, damply moist bread lit up my mouth and I know my eyes followed suit. Next time I got back I might get a loaf to go if that's an option.

Stratton's meal came with onion straws, which he shared. The light, thin crisps maintained a sweetness, either from the onion or the type of batter, but also a salty crunch.



Wiseman ordered the Hillbilly bowl and could not have enjoyed it more. "I'm ashamed I didn't think of it first," he explained about the bowl containing sugar-crusted corn bread, topped with your choice of meat, bar-b-que beans, and onion straws. Josh chose a spicy sausage as his meat. This concoction, although not traditional barbecue, blended well within itself. The varying spices and tastes complimented and balanced each other. Josh guessed they experiment to get the tastes to accent so acutely. "There's so much going on but it all goes together so well," Wiseman exclaimed.

Stratton ordered the Hash Bowl, composed of fried potatoes, grilled peppers and onions, pulled pork, burnt ends, chicken and sausage, topped with cheese and onion straws. I think they forgot the onion straws so they brought them out to us later. Each meat had been spiced differently, allowing each meat's best traits to be accented appropriately. And while each stood out on its own, each meat operated well within the unit which was blended and balanced. Think of these ingredients as a dream team. Each capable of starring on it's own but unstoppable when brought together.



Hash Bowl

Overall I loved the Rub. We all did. When we walked in we saw a what seemed to be a chain, and when we left we hoped it would become what we feared it already was. The Rub seemed to have the ability to mix the efficiency and cleanliness that a chain would offer with the creativity and the care that you find in a dive atmosphere. Although there meat could have had more of a smoke-taste, they did some things with barbecue that I've never seen and I appreciate their ability and willingness to take my beloved food genre to a different level.