Auxiliary Benefits of my Barbecue Quest

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.

Arthur Bryant's Barbecue...The Godfather of Kansas City BBQ

I got up Saturday afternoon after a long night of drinking and had a craving for something substantial to fill my gut and soak up any lingering alcohol. I got ahold of Mark Forshee, a fellow lover of consumption, and decided to go to Oklahoma Joe's. Apparently Forshee had, just minutes before the text, told his roomate that he was going to get some barbeque.
Forshee picked me up and we crossed the border into Kansas. As we entered the parking lot we saw a line not just out the door but that ran the length of the building outside. "We're not eating here," Forshee informed me. I pulled out my phone to google nearby BBQ joints when Forshee suggested Arthur Bryant's.
We turned around and headed to 35 North, got on 70 East and got off on Brooklyn Ave. Bryant's was less than half a mile down Brooklyn. The two-story, aged, brick building stood out as a beacon of barbeque'd goodness. Inside we found long line, but at least it ended before the door and we could wait in the air conditioning.

Bryant's is known as one of the original Kansas City BBQ joints and is said to have made KC BBQ famous. There's a lot of hype surrounding Bryant's and I must admit, it lived up to most of it.

I had plenty of time to examine the atmosphere while we stood in line trying to stay out of the bussers' paths.

The walls were covered with Arthur Bryant's and Kansas City history. There were articles, clippings and awards, framed and hung on every wall. Next to the press clippings were a series of pictures, of customers and fans wearing Arthur Bryant's t-shirts, that were sent from all over the world. I noticed a pair of men standing on the Great Wall of China and multiple pictures from soldiers, at least one of which was stationed in Iraq.

Next to the customers were pictures of several celebreties that have made their way through Bryant's historic doors including Danny Glover, John McCain, who was accompanied by Sarah Palin, and Steven Spielberg. There was also a huge signed mural of golf star Tom Watson and a newspaper article from when President Jimmy Carter visited.

The line rolled with a reasonably steady swiftness. "Next," came demandingly from behind the counter's glass. "Next." "Next," the employee bellowed annoyedly, sarcastically tilting his head. The counter workers spoke with a stern rudeness, but the tone seemed to stem from a sense of urgency. While rude employees will often drive me from any establishment, I understand when thegoal is prompt, efficient service, such as at Arthur Bryant's.

We viewed a bulging hunk of beef behind the glass and a pile of pork next to the window. Workers buzzed behind the glass, slicing, frying and piling. We moved our trays along the line and paid at the end. I should warn you that for a pulled pork sandwich with fries, beans and a large souvenir-cup soda I paid about $19.00. Arthur Bryant's won't be cheap but the portions are plentiful.

We sat down at a simple, old wood-legged table that held three sauces, Original, Sweet Heat and

Rich and Spicy, salt and pepper and a foot-high stack of napkins, which we would need.

The sliced pork overflowed between two pieces of white bread without any sauce. One half of my sandwich was a little dry but the other was abudantly juicy. The meat was not that warm as it had been sitting out in front of the window. The tender pork tasted of infused smoke which lingered momentarily in my mouth. There was a bit of fat as can be expected but I'd say it had about the right amount. It was not the highest quality meat but I don't think the highest quality meat is meant for a pork sandwich.

Because the pork was sliced it could hang off the edge while still maintaining the integrity of the sandwich. Instead of falling off onto my hands and plate, the pork clung to the sandwich's structure.

Forshee ordered the combo sandwich, chose beef and pork, which came with an extra slice of bread between the two meats. He said he got about twice as much beef as pork. The beef was dryer than the pork, but the smokey flavor from the wood chips was stronger. Holding a long slice of pork, Forshee informed me about smokelines, a darkening on the meat that shows where the smoke penetrates the flesh. Forshee also suggested that because Bryant's meat had a thinner cut, as opposed to say, Oklahoma Joe's, that it held less juice.

Original Sauce

The original sauce had a powerful, vinegar base, that had a mouth-burning background. I thought I tasted pepper and Forshee suggested there was also paprika and chili flavor. I was not partial to this sauce but I can see why other's love it. I'm really just not a big vinegar fan, but the taste was full and balanced. There was so much flavor that we had trouble isolating the individual tastes, but the mix was creatively diverse. Forshee, who is fond of vinegar, preferred the Original over the other two flavors.

Sweet Heat Sauce

This sauce might very well be my new favorite KC sauce. The base was honey mustard, but it also seemed to have some ingredients, potentially paprika, like other standard red/maroon KC sauces. The sweet honey taste hit my mouth immediately, but as I chewed and swallowed a slow, patient heat crept up on me and lingered, openly welcomed by my tastebuds. I don't know if I've ever tasted a sauce that straddled the line between sweet and spicy so well.
 Rich and Spicy Sauce
This sauce seemed to be in the middle of the spectrum, not as sweet as Sweet Heat but not near as hot or powerful as the Original. I had trouble distinguishing the flavors but it seemd to be a mix of the other two sauces, somewhat sweet and somewhat spicy, but not leaning too far either way, a more moderate option than the two extremes I preferred.

Some of the fries were a bit soggy with grease, but most were crispy enough. They were fresh cut with plain-potato flavor, so I added some salt. It seems that they were clearly meant to be dipped in Bryant's sauce. These fries don't really stick out as anything special, but were perfect as

an instrument for sauce consumption.

The plain navy beans were somewhat spicy with a hint of smoke and a few chunks of meat. The piping hot portion, though, had a pretty standard flavor.

Adding sauce transformed both meat and fries into a delightfully messy meal. Full, rich, robust flavor flooded my mouth at every turn. The meat seems to have been prepared plainly, but for the smoke, in order to be served with sauce. I cannot stress the flavorfullness of the Original and Sweet Heat sauces enough. The sauces took the simple talent and preparation of the meat and fries and brought them together with an authoritative flare to create a brilliant

performance.

If you want authentic Kansas City barbeque you must try Arthur Bryant's. It is a historical landmark that mostly lives up to its repuation. Just be prepared to spend a substantial sum on lunch. Maybe try to go late in the afternoon and make it count for lunch and dinner as the portions are significant enough to do so.

Also, special thanks to Mark Forshee for the pictures. My phone ran out of battery and he allowed me to use the camera on his phone.

Greedy Man's BBQ & Grill...A True Up-and-Comer

We're back in class for Missouri Bar preparation and after a half week I needed a BBQ injection. I spent three hours trying to concentrate on Federal Civil Procedure when all I wanted to do was get out of the classroom and fill my gluttonous gut with meat and sauce.

A friend, Mike Carrey sat next to me in class and suggested we drive down Volker, take a right on Troost and stop by Greedy Man's BBQ & Grill. We pulled around to park after spying an older man standing on the side of the road with sign beckoning us into Greedy Man's.

I scoured the menu, which was posted across the bottom of the counter, to find no pork sandwich, much to my chagrine. In addition to BBQ, the menu had several sandwich options including multiple versions of a KC style Philly, whatever that means (I should have asked. My bad.) a variety of burgers, including a turkey version, chicken wings with different kinds of sauce, fried fish and shrimp and a standard helping of sides.

I ordered the Big BBQ Beef sandwich, the closest item to my control group, with fries. Mike ordered the Smoked Turkey with Macaroni Salad because they were out of Potato Salad, although they were working on a fresh batch.

I'd like to acknowledge that Greedy Man's prices were among the best I've seen in KC. My meal was $8.00 and Mike's was only $6.50.

The wait was a bit longer than most BBQ joints but usually a medium length wait is a good sign. Too short, and the food is ready before you get there. Too long, and you're just annoyed.

The walls were laiden with records, jazz pictures, guitars and horns and of course press clippings. I walked around taking pictures and read some of the clippings to get a bit of Greedy Man's backstory.

Greedy Man's, owned by Steven Dawkins who had dreamt of owning his own restaurant, is a small, tight hole in a string of buildings with only a handful of tables. The establishment grew from Greedy Man's Lunch Box, a lunch truck that Dawkins used to operate. Dawkins also has a barber's license and is a part-owner of a barber shop.

The young man at the counter, who was friendly and helpful, inquired why I was taking pictures. He said he thought I was scouting to start up a business. I explained my purpose and he asked us several times if everything was cool. It was. Mike said the last time he was there that Dawkins was around and was just as friendly.

While waiting I noticed that there was a drink called Watermelon Woodland. Mike mentioned that last time he was here he found out they make their own soda. When I inquired at the counter to procure one of these unique beverages I was informed they were out. He instead offered me a small cup to taste the Kansas City Peach Tea, which I ended up ordering. The tea was sweet without seeming sugary. I'm not much of a tea drinker so I don't have much to compare it to but I can say I liked it.

An older couple was waiting at the next table and got their food to go which seems to be common there as our food was handed to us across the counter in plain brown bags that held our meals in taped shut styrofoam containers.

I unwrapped my meal to find a reasonable portion for the price I paid. Not what I'd call an abundance but certainly not scant. Actually, the meal seemed appropriate for lunch; there was enough to fill me up but not enough to knock me out as tends to happen at many BBQ establishments.


The sliced chunks of beef came on a plain white bun and the sandwich was simply tasty. The meat had a little fat that I only really noticed because I was examining it closely. Both meals had the character of food that we would have ordered outside at a carnival, concert or festival, meaning a solid combination of price, fuel, texture and taste.

I wouldn't say the meal blew me away but I thoroughly enjoyed it. The rub had a chili powder punch with an unstated strength that refused to overpower the background flavors. Once again, I want to say paprika was involved but I can't really be sure.

A sweet sauce, Baby Ray's I found out later, was spread more than sparingly across the bun. It wasn't quite dripping, but, as the worker at the counter explained, this sandwich was meant for you to taste the rub. The sauce was there for accompaniment, a bass keeping the beat for a lead guitar.

Mike offered me a bite of his sandwich so I had him pull me off a few pieces of the thinly sliced turkey. They turkey rub kicked me across the mouth with a cajun class, but only enough to wake me up. This sandwich too was backed by a simply sweet savory sauce. Greedy Man seems to have found an even medium between spiciness and sweetness. Both sandwiches straddled that line expertly.

I've gotta say the fries could have been prepared better. They tasted as if they had been fried, allowed to sit and then refried after I ordered, which was disappointing. They were mostly crispy, pretty thick and clearly handcut. I think they were covered in the same rub as the beef although they might have had a bit more chili powder, which lingered lightly until I sipped some more peach tea. I thought the cut and spicing were about perfect and I think if I had gotten fresh fries I would have fallen in love.

Mike said the Macaroni Salad was creamy with a that chili powder kick that seems to be a running theme at Greedy Man's. I tasted it and thought it was solid, but I don't really order that side regularly so I have little to compare it to. Mike pointed out that it had a fresher taste than he often finds in such cream-based cold side salads.

Taken as a whole Greedy Man's reminds me of an article I read at Rosedale BBQ about their own restaurant's pedigree. Rosedale and many KC joints started as lunch spots to feed hungry workers a full filling meal at a reasonable price. Greedy Man's is opening new locations according to its website and the business seems to be in an evolutionary stage. I thought it was cool to see a KC joint on its way up, starting from humble roots as other establishments have in the past. You should definitely check this place out. I plan on going back myself to try the chicken wings as Hampton Williams tells me they are outstanding.

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.

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.