My roommate, Quinn Curtis, has an addiction. Not crack, not pot, not even caffeine. No sirs, Mr. Curtis is addicted to barbeque. In the days leading up to our City Barbeque trip, he became more and more anxious for quintessential American classic. By the time to big day came, he was crazier than a chipmunk on methamphetamine. I kid you not, as City Barbeque rolled into view, he let loose a primal cry like a pre-historic hunter spotting game. Does the thought of barbeque, and I mean good barbeque, do this to you? If the answer is yes, then I insist you give City Barbeque a shot.
This handicap-accessible restaurant has limited parking and indoor seating, so either plan on either eating outside, ordering carryout, or elbowing their weaker clientele out of their chairs.
There are paper towel rolls on the tables. So much for taking your significant other here on Valentines Day. The food may be great, but this isn’t exactly a classy joint. The dining area consists of a few wooden tables, some chairs, and a small TV. To get your food you enter a queue and wait your turn. Standing in line gave me plenty of time to give the restaurant’s interior a once over. It was so nice to eat in a clean restaurant again. Not just kinda clean either, this place was just really spotless. A note of caution to all the tobacco-addicts out there, the only thing smoking at City Barbeque is the food so either slap on a couple patches, get food to go, or sweat it out.
When I was close to the register, I had chance to peruse their beer selection. They have all your old American stand-bys and a few popular imports. For those masticators who are looking for a non-alcoholic alternative, let me suggest either their delicious locally made root beer or homemade sweet tea. Ahh sweet tea, of course all we Yankees should know that the ability to brew sweet tea was used for years to determine the age of consent in most Southern states. The sweet tea is brewed with the sugar to create the unmistakable taste of a genuine Southern classic.
After ordering, I took a second to glance over their kitchen. It really looked well kept. Another great thing about this place is the self-serve drinks. With the amount of food you’ll be getting, you’ll need those refills. Destitute college masticators will also appreciate the fact that self-serve dining also saves you a few bucks you’d have to spend on the waiter.
After elbowing our way into one of the wooden tables inside I tried the cornbread. To my horror, this bread was cold, dry, and tasteless. Three strikes, you’re out pal. If I was Manager Rick Malir, I’d be worried about such a flagrant offense to the Barbeque God. I’m pretty sure that messing up His cornbread is sacrilegious.
The french fries weren’t especially inspiring either. I was looking forward to some hot, salty, and greasy spuds but was disappointed to find mine a little too crisp and just a little on the cold side. They just had that old-fry feel, ya dig? While interviewing Rick he told me that City Barbeque would be changing their fries shortly, using home cut whole potatoes. So while my fry-eating experience left much to be desired, there’s still hope for you, the reader.
The baked beans were superb. Hot, a little spicy, with just the right hints of barbeque, vinegar, and brisket meat. I tried to convince Rick to give me the recipe to his magic fruit concoction, but food critics just don’t make enough money to effectively bribe officials.
The macaroni and cheese was perfect. Think of piping-hot al dente noodles with the smooth and creamy blend of asiago and cheddar cheese.
The ribs themselves were 2 * lb St. Louis spare ribs. After smoked for five to six hours they are served with a very modest amount of their smokey-sweet, and spicy barbeque sauce. The ribs themselves were very tender and my full rack was an enormous, 14-boned behemoth. I ended up pouring just a little more barbeque sauce on mine with the sauce on the tables.
My friends had these things to say about their respective entrees: Quinn Curtis ordered the barbeque chicken and wrote, “This is a little dry, though I do like its subtle, smokey flavor. If I could do it all over again, I’d have ordered the pork ribs or brisket, but then again I really like pork. This chicken is friggin’ huge.”
Jarrod Craft tried the Big City sandwich, “This is a monstrous double-decker sandwich. You choose what two meats you want between the three slices of bread. While this sandwich was really great, the poor middle slice of bread was no match for the heavy slab of meat on top of it. It disintegrated quickly and the bottom slice didn’t last much longer either.”
It would’ve been a great disservice to you readers if I walked away without trying the peach cobbler. Fear not, this masticator fasted the whole day in preparation of this review, knowing full well the amount of food to be consumed. My peach cobbler didn’t just rock my senses; it slapped me upside the head with its warm, peachy, gooey goodness. While this dessert would’ve gone well with some Haagen-Daz vanilla, it needed no help standing on its own.
If you have even a passing interest in barbeque, I insist you give this place a shot. Now, you’re going to probably end up spending somewhere between ten and twenty bucks so this isn’t an especially cheap locale. To my Confederate readers, if you begin getting homesick this year, get your friends and make a pilgrimage to this barbeque Mecca. To get to City Barbeque, go west on Lane Avenue and then take a right on Kenny Road. After a few miles you’ll take a left on Henderson Road. City Barbeque is on the left at 2111 West Henderson Road. You can order carryout by calling them at 538-8890.
