Company B Bar-B-Que

4583 Hunter Lane
House Springs, Mo.

Earlier in the week we'd discussed grilling some food for the three day weekend. This put Angel in the mind of barbecue, slow smoked meat. I don't do that, I'm a burgers and chicken thigh guy on the grill.
So we lamented again the loss a couple of years back of our nearest favorite barbecue place, Bandanna's. It burned down, not slowly.
There are other barbecue places, some pretty good ones, then Angel recalled one that we'd intended to go to a few times, but never made it.
Thus, Company B.
One of the reasons we never made it is because it sits right beside one of our favorite Mexican Places, Cinco De Mayo. (translated, ' a Fifth of Mayo') So we decided to head over to Highway 30 and since we'd had Mexican two or three times this month already, not fearing we'd detour yet again.
The Place:
It's kind of small. This is a sure sign of a good barbecue joint though.

The place is definitely locally owned and they don't waste a lot of money on interior decorators or contractors. Not that it wasn't nice enough, just a little kitschy. Corrugated sheet metal covered the walls, rough wooden shelves decorated with wash basins, wash boards, rough wooden objects. Mismatched paper towel racks hung above each table. On one of those racks was a twelve inch nutcracker. . . which didn't make any sense at all until Angel pointed out the nut cracker was wearing a bib apron and holding grilling tools. I don't have one of those.
The tables were covered with vinyl checkered (easy to clean) cloths accompanied by simple wooden chairs.
There was a erasable marker board with a note to patrons to take a seat. We did, but only after two or three ladies greeted us warmly.
There were menus at the table, we passed them around. It looked good, it all looked good. Once again we decided to try to get a variety. We're cooperative.
The Food:
Angel had mentioned the macaroni and cheese, which gets some buzz on the internet, even though Company B  doesn't itself have very much of an internet or social media presence. I like mac and cheese. Not the crappy boxed powdered cheese stuff, no, it has to be thick, really thick and creamy. Angel and I recalled some of our favorites, chief among them the stuff they made many, many years ago in the cafeteria at the  Litton plant in Springfield, Mo. that her and I both worked at. We also agreed that KFC makes a pretty good batch.
As for meats though, she pointed out to me the 'loaded potato', which is exactly what it sounds like. The meats listed were pork, chicken, turkey, beef brisket and ribs. I knew Angel would grab the ribs, she did. I decided that a baked potato with smoked turkey would hit the spot. Adam decided on a 2-platter of chicken and pork.
When Brian,(not her actual name) the lady that waited on us stopped by for our order, she dropped a confounding bomb. "Macaroni and cheese is seasonal."  Not available till October. I still can't quite wrap my head around what would make M&C seasonal, but, whatever. Oh, and no brisket either. They'd run out.
This was okay, we understood that. Wanting meat that is slow cooked in bulk for six or more hours means that a small place like this might just run out of a thing or two as a day goes by. It's not like they can just throw another quarter-cow into the microwave.
So we worked around the unavailable options.

It didn't take long. Since everything is already cooked, serving time is fast. My big potato was covered in cheese and green onion, I had to dig a little to find the turkey, but it was there. The potato itself was perfectly cooked, the butter, sour cream, smokey turkey blended together to deliver a smooth taste profile. I didn't eat all of the potato, spuds are so filling that I concentrated on the meat and cheese.


Angel's Rib platter was a feast for a queen. Thick, meaty ribs, a big ball of potato salad and a fistful of slaw, along with some nicely grilled thick, buttery toast. She tore away at the meat. It wasn't quite sliding off the bone, but she seemed to be enjoying it nonetheless. She shared some meat, pretty good, not as greasy as I tend to find ribs at most places. That's my problem with ribs, they seem greasy to me. The slaw was sweet, good, the potato salad was also sweet. Maybe too sweet together. I declined her offer of a slab of toast, because, potato. Adam took it though.

Adam's two meats were as good as one can expect. Slow cooked chicken and pork doused in one of the three sauces on the table, sweet and smoky. The tin bucket of chips was delightful. I  tried one, quickly decided that I could not eat just one, so I grabbed a few more. They were house-made and dark. Like those delicious 'overcooked' chips you find in a bag once in a while if you are lucky. I loved them, he did too. They disappeared.
His beans were of the vinegar style, none of us are fans of that style. We understand that many people like that, just not us.


Summary:
The food was fantastic. Fresh, same day fare. The people at the smoking equipment know what they are doing. All the meat was exceptional, simple, perfectly cooked. Of the sides, the chips were the clear winner, though none were bad. The price was very reasonable at just above forty bucks, more than a Mexican or Asian place, but . . . slow cooked meat. . .
We were disappointed that the mac and cheese was not available. Earlier in the week I'd answered a Food Network Facebook query "What's your favorite pasta dish?" I responded just as you  think I did. 'Mac and Cheese'.  I doubt that this was what Food Network was going for.
Brian delivered the check and earned her name. At the top of it was the name 'Brian'. in the spot where the

server's name usually goes.
I asked her about it at the counter. "What? Oh, no, Brian's the owner."
About the drinks, unsweetened tea with no sugar for me, sweet tea for the lovely bride, and Pepsi for the boy. Nothing remarkable, at least it wasn't nasty.
We highly recommend the place, even without the mac and cheese. We'll probably go back 'in season' though.
BTW When I grilled chicken this weekend, we made a run to KFC for a tub of mac and cheese. We haven't figured out how to make it right ourselves.

Bandana's (Arnold)

1220 Big Bill Rd.Arnold, Mo. (Map)
On the Wide World of Web.

My pen-pal, Suzi will probably huff at this choice. She knows I don't get up to Arnold much and there are lots of restaurants there that she would probably rather me try. But this wasn't my choice, it was Angel's. The dear wife wanted Bandana's, regardless of where it was. The one in Festus burned down a year or so ago.
The reason I don't go to Arnold much is because it is more like a busy suburb than the smaller towns further south in Jefferson County. It is always bustling and busy, lots of stoplights, lots of traffic, and places we've headed to there in the past have typically had lines at the door. We don't do 'wait' well.
We like the food at Bandana's though, a lot. They smoke meat.
The Place:
Just off one of the many very busy streets, next to one of the many shopping centers, within sight of an Applebees. The parking lot wasn't completely full, but only because it was quite a large lot.
When we went in there were some people waiting, but fortunately for us they were waiting for a large table. Our needs weren't quite so demanding. The young, petite, yet capable hostess sent us to a booth, one of very few empty ones, that was still moist from being wiped down.
Bandana's is fairly large, I didn't get get a square footage estimate, but certainly bigger than a Waffle House. More like a Cracker Barrel.
Speaking of Cracker Barrel, that's what Bandana's smells like. Cracker Barrels usually have a big fireplace and in certain weather keep a fire roaring. Bandana's keeps their smokers burning 24 hours a day. It's a very nice, cozy, comfy, mouth watering aroma.
Bandana's has locations in Missouri, Illinois and Iowa.They also have one in Indiana, in Evansville. Mostly though this is a Missouri chain, the first one, built in 1986, was in Arnold.
We sat at our booth, the din of the filled place drowned out any overhead music, if there was any.
Missy brought our menus and asked about drinks. Tea for me, sweet tea, no ice, for Angel, Adam opted for Pepsi.
The Food:
The menus are simple. They don't have  a ton of different food, If you want seafood, pasta, burgers, you're in the wrong place. Pork, beef, chicken, turkey, ribs and smoked sausage is what they serve, platters or sandwiches. They also have a fair, but uncomplicated list of sides and starters, including some sleepers, things you might not have guessed. Boiled peanuts, fried corn on the cob, breaded and fried green beans and what Angel says is pretty good, Bar-B-Q chicken nachos.
So the decision is which meat would you like, and yes, you can mix and match. It's all pretty good. Some will find smoked meat tasty, but a little dry, don't worry though, each table has the full compliment of Bandana's own sauces, six of them.
For those of you pretending to be watching your weight, I noticed that under each menu item listed was the calorie count for that dish. They are not ashamed of their food, at all, this place is for carnivores.
I finally decided, as did Angel and Adam. Missy brought our drinks and started writing.
Me: Pulled pork sandwich with baked beans.
Angel: Chicken platter plus one rib ($2.00 option) fried corn on the cob and, wanting to try something new, fried green beans.
Adam: 'Pick 2', chicken and beef with fries and corn.
Missy scribbled it all down without comment, then turned away and left us alone. Out came the electronic devices. Adam played a game, Angel looked up something or another, I played with my tablet's two cameras.
The wait grew, people came and went. The evening went south. A family was seated in the both behind us, their small boy spotted them and ran towards them squealing loudly all the way. Like in that old classic movie, '39 Steps' where a cleaning lady discovers a body, opens her mouth to scream, then an immediate cutaway to a high speed steam locomotive tearing down the track with a heavy hand on the shrill, angry whistle. He roared past us, the hair on my neck spiked up like the fur on the arched back of a hissing cat.
He jumped into the bench seat behind us and started rocking, bucking us from behind with every bounce. Angel didn't say anything at the time, but she had to know that this would be a certain mood changer for me. It was, I soured. He finally settled, but the problem with that group did not go away. The patriarch of the family had a deep, booming voice, like a seasoned Baptist minister and from it came knowledge of all things. He never asked a question, he already knew everything about everything and was sure to confirm this on every subject. The man talked loudly and confidently for the full course of their stay.
This was not Bandana's fault, it won't affect my review other than to point out that this is a problem in larger populated, really busy places. There's bound to be a bloviating ass and/or a shrill, undisciplined child in the mix at any given time.
The food took a while which I  thought odd. The main course, the meats, are prepared constantly and well ahead of time in big batches and there weren't that many sides offered. Why it took so long, I'm not sure.
But the food did arrive. It was gorgeous. My sandwich was served in a plastic basket on paper, the beans were separated in a shallow ramekin. The sandwich was topped with fresh coleslaw. I grabbed a bottle of Chicago sauce, my favorite, flipped the sandwich over and slathered on a generous portion.
The beans were sweet, sweeter than you might be accustomed to, but very good. This was no one's canned baked beans.
Angel's plate looked massive. A spice rubbed thigh, breast and leg. A handsome rib also looked pretty good as well. The fried green beans were breaded and deep fried. The corn, still on the cob, had scorch marks. The garlic bread looked beautiful. Golden, bright, like the pigtails of a country girl on a sunny day. Adam's corn was more conventional, the fries looked like fries. On his plate you could see the 'stick to the basics' style of Bandana's. Just lovely, simple smoked meat. No fancy garnishes or toppings. If you want sauce, it's on the table.
Also on the table, every table, is a roll of paper towels. They are not just there for the ribs.
Pulled meat usually means shredded. Not necessarily so here. There were sizable chunks on my bun that when bitten, came out fully intact. A couple of these were big enough that the next couple of bites came out with only slaw and bun. Of course, this also meant splatter and spillage. The flimsy napkin that was wrapped around the bargain basement silverware didn't last halfway through the meal.
I strongly advise not wearing your best Sunday-go-to-meetings to Bandana's. The chances of splatter and drip is quite high. So mechanically my sandwich was a bit messy, but that's not a criticism. The taste, oh the wonderful taste, more than made up for that.
My meal was smaller than my family's so I finished first. I picked at a couple of Angel's green beans. They were pretty good, though very heavy for a bean.
Angel tore through her corn like an industrial shredding machine. She left the chicken skin on the plate but the meat had disappeared, the bones appeared acid soaked so devoid of meat they had been rendered.
Missy came by and checked on us, a single takeout box please. Angel was saving the bread. We've always loved the bread, even though Angel said "I think it's probably my changing tastes, but the bread seemed a little oily." This did not stop her from putting it into the box for later though.
Summary:
"Good, as usual." Adam said. That about says it. The food is good. it is of much better quality than many places, simply, but expertly prepared. Bandana's has been around for nearly thirty years, the recipes and techniques have not changed. They don't need to. This is not reprocessed, cookie cutter, industrial food. It's the real thing.
Busy as it was, except for the longer than expected wait time, the service was professional and solid. Missy didn't chat us up unnecessarily, but she was attentive, patient and thorough.
The price was good, but not dirt cheap, $49.01
The tea? Sorry, but not very good. It was fresh, not cloudy and bitter, but it was pretty weak. I'll give it a minus two and a half. It worked okay to wash the meat down, but tasted only mildly stronger than water.
Will we be back? Not for a while. Location, location, location. Should they build anew in Festus/Crystal City though, you bet. But I simply hate navigating the traffic and crowds in Arnold.

Main Street BBQ

1620 Hwy Z

Pevely, MO

http://www.bbqonmain.com/

Herculaneum Fire Department

I’d spent all day at the Herculaneum  Fire Department taking CERT classes.  You don’t know what that is?  I’ll explain later. At any rate it was an all-day class, and I asked the family to pick place that was nearby or on the way. As it turned out it didn’t really matter, by the time class let out, a little early, Angel was on the road in the other direction from dropping a couple of dogs off. I went on home, she got there about the same time and had to let the remaining dogs out before we could leave. She and Adam had already assumed Main Street BBQ, they didn’t see any reason to change that. So we headed out from home and to within a couple of miles of where I’d already spent the whole day.

The Place:

On Highway Z between I-55 and 61/67. It’s a stand-alone affair that was probably something else before it became what it is now. You walk in and confront a counter, on which you will find a large painted menu. Paper menus area also available. You just pick your choice(s) of meat, add a couple of sides, pay for the order, fill your drinks, then find a table. We did all that.

The Food:

Me: Pulled pork sandwich, red potato salad, baked beans and un-sweet tea.

Angel: 2-meat platter, turkey and brisket, corn cob-ette and coleslaw, she tasted the sweet tea, poured it out and got Diet Coke instead.

Adam: Chicken and Pork platter, baked beans and coleslaw.

Pulled pork, beans, potato salad

We sat and waited, not for all that long. I started telling them about my day in class, they feigned interest.

The food came, served on plates, the sides in small bowls. I flipped my sandwich open, put the dill pickle slices on it, took a bite then fetched some sauce, it was a little dry by itself. Tasty, but dry. Adam picked at his beans, then set them aside. “The beans have stuff in them.” By which he meant diced onions. I tsk’d him and carried on. Angel passed around small pieces of brisket, it was pretty good. She said it was okay, but not nearly as good as the turkey, which she described as "Yum!”

Her corn didn’t fare as well, she said  it was almost tasteless, like it had been soaking in water too long, she ate it all anyhow.

Turkey+Brisket Platter

I soaked my pork in ‘Sweet and Smoky’ sauce, that made a lot of difference. They make their own sauces and they do it well. I found the beans to be a little too sweeter than I usually like them, but not to the point of being not-good. The potato salad, made with red potatoes and skin left on, was awesome. Smooth, creamy and not too much mustard or vinegar.

My sandwich was quite large, the pork, though moist with the added sauce still proved a bit rubbery at times, I was a little disappointed, but even a not-great pulled pork sandwich is better than most things. Adam said he loved his chicken, even more so than Bandana’s, which is a very high compliment. Correction: Adam said his chicken was fine, but he prefers Bandana's. He was slightly less pleased with the pork.

Chicken + Pork Platter

Angel went on and on about her turkey, using words like ‘Great!’

“I love it here.” She cooed. “You can just come in, order some meat and if you feel like it can toss a couple of small sides in with it.” Angel loves meat. At around ten at night she usually snacks on ‘night-meat’ either deli stuff or whatever might be leftover from dinner. No bread, no sides, no toppings or sauces, just cold meat straight from the fridge.  

Summary:

I’d had turkey and scrambled  eggs as an early (6:30 A.M) breakfast before class and the Fire Department treated us to Pizza from a local place in the early afternoon. I only had two slices since it was rather bland (even more so than Domino’s) but that, along with the breakfast was about twice as much as I normally eat on a Saturday. So I dismissed at least most of my criticism, and the lack of motivation to finish my meal, to that. The tab was forty two dollars and change, about the same as Bandana’s, not bad at all for in-house smoked meat. It takes about five minutes to grill a burger, smoking meat takes hours, I expect to pay a little more.

You may note that none of us had French fries this time, which is rare for us, but that’s because Main Street doesn’t serve them anymore. I’d overheard this at the counter but did not hear the explanation. I figured it was because that was the only thing I could recall them ever needing a deep fryer for and it probably just wasn’t worth the mess and maintenance.

It’s still a very good place to grab a smoky meat sandwich despite the little minuses I pointed out. Still highly recommended.

Bandana’s Bar-B-Q

103 Truman Blvd
Crystal City, MO

http://www.bandanasbbq.com/

 

To celebrate Adam’s upcoming birthday* we let him choose a place. I know, it was probably his turn anyhow, but it’s the thought that counts, right? We did tell him there was no pressure to find a new place, he didn’t need to consider the review at all, even if it was a place we’d been to recently. Free choice without pressure or repercussions, that’s the greatest gift of all.

I was a little surprised when he chose Bandana’s but only a little. I knew he liked it, but not that it was at the top of his list.

I had been shopping earlier in the day, mostly finished but a little frustrated. None of the stores I went to had those big cans of popcorn, the ones with three kinds, cheddar, plain and caramel. Granted, I’d only gone to two stores, but for me that’s an ambitious shopping trip.

The evening was simply gorgeous. The setting sun enflamed the few wispy clouds, the temperature was nearly perfect, high fifty’s or low sixty’s. The drive was uneventful and rather quiet. On arrival I was expecting the outdoor loudspeaker to be blasting that awful country music. I was pleased to note they’d turned it down considerably from the hideous shouting level it had been set to on our previous trips. Inside it was pleasantly, barely audible at all.

The Place:

It was only half full, or maybe less. Not bustling, a very relaxed pace. The place was only modestly decorated, felt red stockings hung from above the opening to the kitchen, each with a name written on it, maybe one per crew member. A small tree sat in a corner and that was pretty much it.

A few families were spread around the long aisles, the black-clad crew scurried about clearing tables, sweeping the floor, carrying orders.

We were shown a booth near the back and situated ourselves. The menus were dropped off, drinks ordered (tea, sweet tea and Pepsi) and the server drifted off and left us to consider options.

The birthday boy, and my tea.

Our drinks arrived quickly, we weren’t quite ready to order yet. It took another five minutes or so before we finally decided. After much internal debate, I chose the turkey sandwich and fries. Angel, the chicken and pork plate with ‘fried corn’ and fried okra. Adam went for the beef and chicken plate with fries and coleslaw.

While we waited, in what has become a sort of ritual, Angel pulled out her new-fangled smartphone, checked her Facebook and email, then browsed through some online comics. Adam didn’t. Instead he occupied himself tearing the straw wrappers into tiny little shreds, then rolling the shreds up into tiny little balls.

Angel then showed Adam one of the comic strips, he seemed only slightly amused. “Comics are for old people.” He said, which caused his mother to get all red-faced and defensive. “I didn’t mean old like you, I mean old-old.” He defended himself, though it didn’t really help.

I think he was just trying to get a rise from her. He does that a lot, something he inherited from his mother. She’s always trying to rile me up, pointing out petty infractions and forgetfulness, just trying to ring my buzzer; I don’t take the bait though.

The Food:

Turkey Sandwich, pre-sauce

The food arrived quickly, just as advertised. There are no surprises at Bandana’s, just tasty smoked meats.

The meat is served dry allowing one to sauce it up to individually desired levels. They provide four different sauces at each table, I think there used to be more.  I’d tasted them all before and went with my favorite, Chicago Sweet, and plenty of it. This doesn’t mask the smokiness of the meat, it’s chopped into thick chunks, it merely perfects it. My bun was toasted and buttered, the fries were  just right.

Angel’s fried corn turned out to be corn on the cob, cooked, then grill-fried until most of the individual kernels were a light brown. It was diapered on the plate in what looked like an oblong coffee filter. We debated this, and decided that it might not actually have been a coffee filter since we couldn’t figure out how or why a coffee maker would require an oblong filter. On subsequent research, and playing off a brilliant hunch, I looked up 'restaurant supplies' and ‘hot dog wrappers’ and sure enough, voila! You can see them here.

Fried corn on the cob.

The corn itself was very good. I know this because Angel said it was almost as good as Jeff’s. Jeff is my younger, but bigger brother. He smokes meats himself but unfortunately he lives a couple of hundred miles away in the sprawling metropolis of Cerulean Ky. When he prepares a meal he puts his heart and soul into it. Lots of planning, hand chosen wood, days of preparation. His corn is indeed awesome. For Bandana’s to come even close by comparison is quite a commendation.

Her okra looked just like it tastes, like breaded and deep-fried cow snot.

Adam tried his coleslaw then never touched it again. I asked him about that. “It’s not their fault, I’m just really, really picky about coleslaw.” He responded without further explanation. He is indeed rather picky about certain foods, another unfortunate trait he gets from his mother.

Adam asked me about the tea. “Flat, tasteless, but I knew it would be.”

“Then why did you order it?” he asked as if the answer wasn’t obvious.

“I had to see if they bothered to improve it, they haven’t.”

He doesn’t seem to understand the harsh sacrifices that are required to become a professional, highly rated and respected restaurant critic.

Summary:

The food was, as I’ve said, very good. Adam didn’t like the coleslaw, but even he properly blamed that on flawed genetics rather than a failed effort by Bandana’s. The tab was a bit high, forty six dollars before the tip, but good food is good food, and really good comestibles** are worth a few extra farthings.

After we finished we hopped over to Big Lot’s to see if they had the tins of popcorn. Nope. The next day, on a tip form Angel, I found some at K-Mart. Mission accomplished.

_______________________________

* Birthday.  Adam’s is the day after mine but we agreed to split the celebrations. He would choose a place to eat, I’d choose a movie to go to. None of these celebrations would actually occur on our actual birthdays. We’ll be going to see “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” on Friday.

**Comestibles. An established author and Facebook friend Nicola Griffith used this word in a post last week. I had to look it up since I’ll admit that there are a still a few (a couple of dozen at most) pretentious English words missing from my otherwise vast arsenal. I thanked her for the generous gift and assured her that I would try to use it in the near future. This almost-superfluous usage was an intentional means of increasing my word power (it pays). As for ‘farthings’, I only need to mention that this same friend is British by birth.

Bandana’s

Festus, MO

Why We Went Back:
We were planning to go to Pevely to try out Hillbilly’s, a place that had been recommended by a fan. However Angel did not feel qualified to try out a new place this weekend, she’d suffered an incident and was afraid that it would cloud her reasoning abilities.
I had been outside shoveling the driveway, again. Saturday morning arrived with four brand new inches of the stuff. I had given up on clearing the entire driveway after the icing we got earlier in the week. All I was trying to do at this point was to clear the uppermost point of the driveway. I’d been parking my car up there since Monday anyhow. I moved (at a crawl) Angel’s 4WD Trailblazer up there Saturday morning once I’d cleared enough to make room for the big beast. Coming indoors after noon I found Angel sitting on the couch holding a hand over one eye. She pulled it away revealing swelling and redness. “That looks like it hurts.” I consoled her.
“It does.” She replied.
I didn’t ask what happened, Angel has a history of unusual accidents. It was enough for me to know that she’d injured her eye without needling her about the details. She explained anyhow.“It’s a paper cut.” She started.
I just looked at her. She eventually continued.
“I was pulling a paper off the shelf above the desk. It was under a pile of stuff.”
At this point I was suppressing a sympathetic giggle.
She went on. “It was stuck, so I yanked on it and it did a whiplash sort of thing right into my eye.”
Angel is no more accident prone than anyone else, it’s just that her accidents are typically more comical. This leads to embarrassing trips to the Urgent Care Center and having to explain about the coconut, the curling iron, and now, the paper cut to the eye. So she was not feeling up to trying a new place, so we agreed on a family favorite, Bandana’s.
The Place:
Like everywhere else in the region, stuck between high, dirty and slowly dissolving parking-lot snow banks. The lot was only half full. The country music blared from that same, awful outdoor bullhorn-ish speaker. The music is about the only thing about this place I would change. Some people actually like country music, so I hear, so I suppose it’s appreciated by someone.
The staff’s uniform is jeans and black logoed tee shirts, all the workers in the front are young and female. We were taken to a booth in the back and introduced to our waitress. She was tall, surprisingly tall. She was also slender, surprisingly slender. I would guess she was nearly six feet, and perhaps eighty pounds dripping wet. She was very nice and professional though, I’m certainly not one to speak ill of the freakishly tall and slender. I imagine being that way, like being any other way, has its advantages and disadvantages. She handed us menus, took our drink requests, turned sideways and disappeared.(just kidding)
The booth was in a corner, and seemed to be designed for a taller person. In order to hover over my unremarkable tea, I had to scoot up to the edge of the big seat. It felt kind of like something designed for Peewee’s Playhouse.
The table had the requisite iron pipe and lumber paper towel holder. Next to that was a six-holed beer carton which held the six house sauces, cute.
The Food:
I thought I wanted a sandwich. I’d eaten a decent lunch as I was bulking up for a day of manual labor, so I didn’t need a lot of food. So a sandwich would be about right. Then I remembered the Texas Toast. If you order a sandwich, you don’t get the two chunks of the absolute best Texas toast in the hemisphere. So I changed my mind. They have several combinations of dinners, you just choose your two or three meat choices, add a couple of sides, and you’ve got a meal. I selected pulled pork and turkey with fries and coleslaw.Angel asked for the ribs and turkey with green beans and potato salad. Adam went for Turkey, beef, fries and corn.
The drinks were delivered, Angel continued to cup her swollen eye, Adam needled her about how she could possibly get a paper cut there. To him, her story simply didn’t seem to hold up. I didn’t question it any further, if what she described was not what actually happened then the real story must be really bizarre and embarrassing.
The food arrived. The first thing I did was try the coleslaw. It had been several weeks since I’d had decent slaw and I was curious as to whether the technology to make a decent batch had somehow been lost to mankind. It was smooth, sweet and creamy with a hint of a bite. Perfect. My faith in mankind had been restored. Next was the toast, two fist-sized chunks, buttery and tanned to a delightful crunch. The fries were good, the meat was awesome. They smoke their own meats, all of them, for several hours. They apply only a dry rub on them during the slow cooking process and the lengthy method really pays off. The meat is tender, smoky, and delicious. Among the six table sauces I chose my favorite, Chicago Sweet. I glopped a lot of it on the turkey, not so much on the pork. I could tell from the start that I’d be taking much of it home for a really, really good Sunday sandwich.
Angel tore through her ribs like Fred Flintstone. She loved the glazing and didn’t mind the work of digging every edible morsel from the bones. Adam’s food disappeared quite quickly. Between the fries and the bread I was filling up fast. I decided that this was okay, I’d eat the stuff that doesn’t travel/reheat so well, and get a box for the meat. There was enough left for a couple of average sized sandwiches. Reheated with some onion and bell pepper Sunday’s sandwiches would be superb.
Our tall, rail thin sliver of a waitress appeared a couple of times to refill our drinks in a timely manner and to ask if we wanted fried donut holes. We declined and asked for a couple of boxes. Angel wadded up the twelve or so sticky paper towels she had used as face and finger mops, and we left.
Summary:
The bill came in at around fifty bucks, more than the little diners we frequent, but not near as much as a chain. The payoff is fantastic food and plenty of it. The next time we go I’ll probably pass on the fries and get potato salad or baked beans instead, that way I’ll have more room for the meat. The service was exceptional, prompt, efficient and not overly fussy. Except for the music the atmosphere was relaxed and comfortable.
Epilogue:
By Sunday morning Angel’s eye was puffy and swollen. I drove her to the urgent care where we found out that she had indeed scratched her eyeball. Not too seriously though, she was given prescriptions for eye drops and something else, certainly nothing to cheer her up. She spent the day with a warm compress, not whining too much. Out of sympathy every time I talked to her I closed one eye and crinkled up my face. I advised Adam to do the same. Nothing makes a person in misery feel better than making fun of them.