When someone says, “Kansas City Style BBQ,” do you immediately think of KC Masterpiece BBQ sauce? I don’t. But I was warned that it was completely not like that at all, because SOME people think that it is. Fine. I emptied my mind of all barbecue sauce commercial based expectations. I would go into Kansas City with a clean slate.
First off: a US geography lesson. Where would you think Kansas City is? If you said, “Missouri,” you’re more right than I was! But there’s ALSO a Kansas City in Kansas – it’s just a suburb of Kansas City, MO. That was confusing – fortunately Wikipedia, Yelp, Foursquare, and the MacOS maps.app all have my back and pointed me directly to the best place to get Kansas City (Missouri!) BBQ: Oklahoma Joes. Which is not in Oklahoma.
Enough of that – we’re saying “KC” from now on.
Oklahoma Joes changed their name to Joe’s Kansas City a few years back, clearing up one point of confusion. Unfortunately, Joe’s is not open on Sundays, and Sunday was the only day I had in KC. Second choice: Fiorella’s Jack Stack BBQ.
As I approached Fiorella’s I noticed that the air around it smells like BBQ smoke, which is a nice smell. There are 6 or 7 groups of people sitting outside, waiting. Two good signs. I’m not in the biggest hurry. I can wait. But no – since I’m on my own now, I can just breeze in and sit by myself at the awkward 2-top bar table where one of the seats is too close to the pillar for anyone to use. And I did.
It is the most family-restaurant-like of all the BBQ places I’ve been, with the possible exception of Bobby-Q. Judging by the full-restaurant experience, I could see people preferring to come here and sit in a moodily lit place where everything is wooden, instead of the brutally down-to-earth spots at which I’d been eating in other states. You can just show up at 8 PM and get whatever you want, too. Not as much of a burden.
The menu item I got was “Jack’s Best,” which is what the website recommends if you’re looking for a sample representing good KC BBQ. Yes, website, that IS what I’m looking for. It includes: Pork baby back ribs, Beef burnt ends, aaaand one Prime beef rib, so there’s your single KC rib serving again. Two sides, cheesy corn and “pit beans.”
The meat on all these is noticeably smoky and very tender. They’ve all got BBQ sauce on them – it’s that dark, sweet, mollasses-based stuff that everyone I know thinks of when you say “barbecue sauce.” It’s what the stuff you get with chicken mcnuggets is a pale imitation of. I’m pretty sure this meat would be good without the sauce – it’s still smoky and pretty nice meat. But that’s not what KC BBQ is about.
What I’m getting from all this is: KC BBQ won the hearts and minds of the mainstream. When you get BBQ pringles or whatever, what you’re getting is not like a dry rub, not like a tangy or vinegar-based BBQ. You’re getting the KC heavy molasses sauce metaphor. And looking at the restaurants I chose to represent each, it’s not hard to see how KC won the PR war. It’s accessible.
The beef rib was, by the way, amazing. When I was young, one of my favorite mom-dishes was oxtail stew. This beef rib was kind of like a giant mostly-meat oxtail in consistency, but a little more steak-like in flavor. Plus BBQ sauce. Really satisfying. I’ll have to check out beef rib night (at Jack’s) when I get back to Seattle, for comparison.
I did get the carrot cake for dessert, as recommended by Yelp, but I had to take it to-go. I had a little bit back at the hotel, but I wasn’t really feeling it. I mean, on top of near-daily BBQ, I’ve been eating around 5 ostentatious-level donuts a day, guys. Something’s gotta give. And it’s probably my pants.