Over the last few weeks I've forced myself, with the help of several friends, into a barbecue boot camp. I realized that my time in Kansas City is coming to a close and I wasted too much time not eating the incredible variety of barbecue that this city has to offer. So, I've been sprinting, making up time to try as many restaurants, dives and joints as possible. Still, by the time I leave at the end of July I will only have visited a fraction of those that KC has to offer.
This saddens me because I spent three years here, and probably could have tried every pulled pork sandwich in the metropolitan area. It may sound silly, but I'll regret this omission for a long time. Still, I've learned in my quest for the best BBQ sandwich, and not just about meat and sauce.
Since I started this blog I've developed a more finely-tuned sense of taste. I take my time eating now where before I'd often rush through a meal. I pay more attention to my food's details, the spices, the preparation, the fat-content, the cost-to-portion proportion. I enjoy eating in a different way than I ever have.
This quest has influenced me at a more personal level too. I often become stagnant in the establishments I frequent, like many people do. Now I'm more inclined to try a new restaurant, to go out of my way, just because I've never eaten there before. And I guess this idea has expanded my mind a little. Maybe I sound like I'm exaggerating but really, forcing myself to try new BBQ has adapted my mind, switched it to a different mode, to a more curious, more adventurous channel.
Still, like anyone else I have my favorite establishments, my Cheers and my personal habits. But, because of this effort, the quest for variety of all kinds has become ingrained in me, soaked, infused in every morsel like well-smoked meat.
I appreciate that anyone reads this and I hope that some randoms stumble upon it. If just one tourist goes to a BBQ joint other than Jack Stack or Gates, I have made the world a better place.
P.S. I have reviews for Woodyard Bar-B-Que and Smokin' Guns BBQ coming up. They are written but my phone is taking an unfortunately long time to send the pictures to my g-mail.
My mission is to convince stubborn locals to branch out and to help the tourists find quality authentic Kansas City Barbeque.
Showing posts with label KC barbeque. Show all posts
Showing posts with label KC barbeque. Show all posts
Friday, June 8, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Gates Bar-B-Q...ALERT: TOURIST TRAP
This is another makeup but I've been there a few times and it left such a horrid taste in my mouth that I could never forget the insult. I've been to the Gates on Main and the one on Emanuel Cleaver Blvd. Most of this post will be in reference to the recent trip on Main, but I'll tell you I had just as an unfortunate of an experience the first time.
"Go to Gates," all the locals say. "It's the best," they add. "The sauce is the best," they insist. They're either lying or just wrong. Gates Bar-B-Q IS marketing. The name is plastered everywhere around the restaurant. "Gates." "Gates." "Gates." And then there's that huge picture of the gentelman with the top hat strolling down the street. He's everywhere too.
I walked in to the dim establishment and to my right was that strolling man with the top hat who I had just seen on the wall outside. The counter was set up for efficiency with two lanes going in opposite directions which I imagine is necessary for the lunch time rush since people continue to patronize this place for some reason. Each time I went a steadyish stream of costumers strolled in and out, although the place was not close to full either time and there wasn't really a line. If you ask most locals they'll tell you that Gates is the place to go. It's just not.
"Go for the experience," they say. "No, they're rude on purpose. That's part of the deal," they explain. Well, if you've been ripped off before, you've had the experience.
When you walk in they greet you with a grim, "How may I help you," everytime, but they say it more like "Hey, go screw yourself." I stood back from the line, of which I was the entirety, and perused the menu. The woman at the counter rudely repeated, "May I help you," several times while I tried to decide what I wanted "But you always get pulled pork and fries," you may say. So what? I was trying to see if they had an delicacies such as cheesey corn or something I hadn't heard of. So don't rush me, I might spend more money.
Behind the counter were rows of various Gates sauces for purchase underneath the signs that advertised Gates catering that hung from the ceiling. Oh, and in case you were wondering Gates gift certificates are available. Did I mention they cater? GATES GATES GATES. The meal came promptly. The sauce, napkins, water and soda were all self serve at a single station in the middle of the several separate dining areas. Nothing was on my table, except for salt, pepper which I'd need for the bland french fries, and an advertisement for Gates catering.
The luke warm pork was held together by three pieces of plain sliced white bread. The plain naked meat wasn't quite cold but it was getton its way and it had clearly been sitting out for a while. It was dry, stiff and thin, but not terrible when compared only to itself. The middle piece of bread, adding which can be a common method of BBQ sandwich architecture, seemed unnecessary here. There was not enough meat to merit the extra foundation. It seemed the slice was just there to make the sandwich look bigger.

Gates had three sauces available in squirter topped tubs, Classic, Spicy and Sweet and Mild. Honestly, I could barely tell the difference between the Classic and Spicy. The main difference between the two was how long the terrible taste hung in my mouth. They were both spicy, one was just a little more so. If I had to pick the worst sauce I've encountered in Kansas City it'd be these from Gates. These thin sauces were simply abrasive. I will add that I've had Gates purchased from a bottle and it tastes a lot better and I don't know why.
Now, you may be thinking that I just don't like spicy flavors. Well, that's not true, I do. This sauce just seemed to burn for the sole sake of burning and with that I have a problem. No balance, no cohesion, no creativity, just a single slug in the jaw. And not in a good way. I tasted an abundance of pepper and obviously paprika. The Sweet and Mild, which was aptly named, wasn't too bad though. It still had a little kick but had an tanginess to it. All three sauces had a lingering smokey flavor while the meat didn't meaning Gates uses liquid smoke, the fool's gold of BBQ.
The steak fries, which came in a substantial portion, were just an embarrassment to side dishes everywhere. They were thick, flat and prepared perfectly crispy, but they were not spiced at all. I had to douse them in salt to continue eating. Even worse, I could have gone to Sam's, picked up a bag and fried them at home myself. How do I know they came from a bag? I COULD TASTE THE FROZEN!!! C'mon Gates, that is just unacceptable. If you ask many locals, who have grown up being brainwashed into the Gates system, then they'll likely tell you it's a must visit. It simply isn't. Gates seem to have been living off of its good name for some time now. I'd like to have tried it before it became a chain, switched its concentration to advertising and gave up on serving a quality meal. The service was lousy, the food was crummy and I left unsatisfied. Don't waste your time. Don't waste your money. Don't go to Gates Bar-B-Q no matter how many times you hear the name repeated. GATES GATES GATES.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Danny Edwards BLVD BBQ...A personal touch
This piece is a little late but I got caught up in finishing finals and
graduating so I hope you don't mind if the tastes are a little stale. Don’t
worry, I took good notes. After our Secured Transactions final Jess Langford and I headed down to ol’ Southwest Boulevard to sample one of Jess' favorite joints. Unfortunately this was the same day Joe Biden was in town and we got sidetracked, twisted and turned around, unable to make a left from Southwest Trafficway.

Anyway, I sat in the cramped parking waiting for Jess. Behind me was a partially brick building with barred windows, a neon sign blaring Danny Edwards BLVD BBQ and a garage-like-sliding door which could be opened weather-permitting.
With a whetted appetite we walked in about 1 pm to a mostly full, but not quite crowded eatery. We didn’t have to wait in line at all to order at the counter. I got the pulled pork and fries as usual even though Jess, who is normally a pork eater like me, insisted I order the brisket.
As we walked to our table Jess pointed to
Danny Edwards who was behind the counter personally slicing our meat to order. “Now
how do you know that?,” I asked. “I saw a documentary on one of the public
access channel a few weeks ago,” he replied. “Good to know.”

While waiting hungrily, my eyes toured the room which had one brick wall. The rest plaster and covered with black and white photos. The photos showed old BBQ joints and Kansas City Sites. On the wall opposite the counter, Edwards’ many news clippings and awards were displayed.
After a short wait our food was brought
to our table which was covered by a red and white checkered picnic tablecloth,
a single style of sauce and specifically no ketchup. I’d like to comment on the
server who held a solid grin the entire time we were in the building and who
kept our glasses full of water. If you want soda there is a fountain on the side
of the room for your convenience.
When we asked for ketchup for our fries
she brought us a small cup each which led me to a new tenet for finding quality
barbeque: whether or not they have ketchup on the table. If the table is
ketchupless then the owners or managers hold their sauce in particularly high
esteem.

There was no room spared on my plate. The entire surface was covered with fries, a standard warm white bun and overflowing shredded pork. As Jess said, “If you order a large and it fits on the bun then it’s not a large.” Well put. The pork itself was good, had a paprika based rub, a little juice, but was a little dry too.
Jess let me try the brisket that he had
been raving about and I get why he orders it over the pork. The beef was juicy,
cut thick and tender, loose and falling apart on the plate. If you’re going to
Danny Edwards, get the brisket.
I slathered my delightfully sloppy
sandwich and noticed the speckles of complexity in the sauce which was about as
original of a sauce as I’ve had in KC. It had a serious kick, which Jess
guessed was Chinese Five-Spice. The kick was backed by some sort of sweetness.
The thick nectar blended serenely with the flavored pork in a creative balance.
Hampton Williams, who arrived about the time we were finishing up, said that
the sauce reminded him of a Texan sauce he had tried. Hampton took Jess’ advice
and ordered the brisket and was not disappointed. Jess claims it’s the best
sauce in KC. I disagree but I am fond of its uniqueness.
The fries were hand-cut, fresh, simply
and softly spiced and arrived in abundance. One indication, here, that fries
are hand-cut is when their lengths are inconsistent. I think they might have
been lathered in the paprika meat rub which continued to blend well with the
sauce. They were pretty thick and had plenty of potato-meat. Some were a little
soggy but others were quite crispy. I would have preferred a more consistent
crispiness, but enjoyed them thoroughly.
While we ate we noticed several employees,
starting with Danny himself, take a break in the back. Danny’s plate was
covered in a variety of meats. It’s always a good sign to see the owner and
employees all eating the food they made.
Something to note is that Edwards offers
a Southern Style sandwich option which means that the meat is covered in
coleslaw. I’ve never been a coleslaw lover, but you might like it. Edwards also
offers “Authentic Mexican Chili,” which makes sense as it is located on
Boulevard, which boasts a congregation of Kansas City Mexican restaurants.
If you’re going to try Danny Edwards
BLVD BBQ make sure you go during lunch because that is the only meal for which it
is open. I implore you to find some time during your lunch break or on a
Saturday afternoon to make your way down to this gem on the Boulevard.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
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.”
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.
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.
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.
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.
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