"Crap! I wish I hadn't seen Ricky on the sidewalk."

"You will be fine for 31 minutes. You will be dead in 32 minutes."

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Porcine and Not Heard

I am drunk on Texas barbecue, if that's possible.

It was Tony's birthday last week, but nobody made a big deal about it because he didn't tell anybody it was his birthday.

We'd previously made plans to
try this barbecue joint on Broadway and 24th St. and he'd cancelled twice for various reasons. 

I told him we should go and he nodded and said "Tuesday."

We left work at 4:30 because the barbecue place closes at 7 p.m. and Tony was nervous they'd run out of food.  And he wasn't wrong because by the time we showed up they were already out of pork loin and by the time we left they were also out of jalapeno sausage links and ribs.

Tony's a good eater.  I stopped to get cash ahead of time because they don't take credit cards and I skipped lunch in order to get my money's worth. 

I checked out the website and read some online reviews, but as soon as we stepped inside my pre-game plan went completely out of my head.  They sell all their meat by the pound, and in my mind I was going to get some brisket and a hot link and call it a day.  The cashier asked if we'd been in before and we both shook our heads.  It was the right thing to do, because she gave us a sample of the brisket and the creamed corn and a taste of the smoked turkey.

In the end, we split the $25 sampler platter: brisket, chicken, turkey, pulled pork, jalapeno sausage, and two sides.  We had 'em throw in a couple of ribs, too.  Tony wanted to know the most popular side and the cashier said it was the creamed corn.  I had no interest in eating half a pint of creamed corn, but told Tony he should get it if he wanted it.  I asked for the cole slaw, which I need to soak up the excess barbecue sauce I invariably pour over my plate.  Tony opted for the beans. 

The sampler is supposed to feed 3-4 people, but I guess it's good the other two people never showed up, 'cause there was nothing left when we were done.

The sausage was fine, but it wasn't bursting with jalapenos and the casing didn't exactly pop.  The rib was just okay.  The brisket was good, but not as moist as the chicken which was a little bland compared to the excellent turkey.  I don't remember the pulled pork at all.

I'm not a bean guy, but I'll be damned if I didn't eat half a pint of those goddamn beans.  They were saucy and they had a kick and probably a full calendar year's worth of flatulence.  I told Tony I was only going to have a spoonful, but quickly reversed myself and ended up eating more beans than I care to remember.  Somtimes, living alone is a blessing.

Do the Germans have a word for expressing both pride and disgust when overeating?  If they don't, they should.  

Get on it, Germans! 

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