Arthur Bryant's: The best food for the hood of your car

So it's 8:45 PM and Brad and I have been driving for approximately ten hours, mostly through the state of Kansas. I'm not sure if I can recommend driving through Kansas. I can't say it's bland... I can say it's rather, uh, Biblical. Let's just say that we were psyched to be leaving and entering Missouri (pronounced Miss or a). And our first stop was Kansas City. So Kansas City here we come.

I had read that Arthur Bryant's is the most famous BBQ restaurant in the world. Now, being a product of Bessingers in Charleston, South Carolina, I had, and I mean HAD to go to Arthur Bryant's. Now, Kansas City BBQ is known for being tangy, while other BBQs are known to be sweet. So we exit off the highway, starving and pumped, and realize that we're in a pretty lousy neighborhood. Now, all through Kansas we had seen tumbleweed flying across the highway. In this area of Kansas City, it was also deserted, but more Grand Theft Auto style than expansive farmland. But goodness knows this would never take us away from our mission. So we pull into the parking lot, taking care to notice the security car located outside the establishment.

Inside was pretty dismal. People were cleaning up, some people were just finishing their meals. We strolled up to the counter and stared at the people on the other side of the (bullet proof?) glass window. Nobody looked up. Hmmm. Brad, being from outside Philly, felt that this was a Pat's challenge. If he didn't order correctly, perhaps we would get a "mis-steak." So, what to do? Well, I left Brad to his own devices and headed to the restroom. Once I returned, I couldn't help but notice the look on Brad's face. Focused Confusion. I startled him a bit when I smiled and asked what he was looking at so intently. He said, "Just watch." Ok.

Roll out a large piece of maroon package paper. Throw two innocent slabs of white bread on it. Slap a massive amount of pulled pork on top of that. Roll out some waxed paper and throw that on top. Then about 1,000 pickles were thrown on top of that. (even though we both despise pickles--we couldn't say anything. We didn't know if we were being pranked or what and we didn't want to make it worse). Next came a fryer full of french fries. Finally, the man behind the counter rolled it all up, slapped a sticker on it and pushed it under the ledge. Ok...

So we get back in the car since the restaurant is closing and head east (we're returning home. Sigh). But what do we do? We can't unroll this. We have no clue how to eat this. So we pull into a gas station across from where the KC Chiefs and the KC Royals play and proceeded to eat these "sandwiches" on the hood of Brad's car in the romantic gas station lighting.

Tangy, delicious, and enough for a large family. I haven't tried the rest, so it's hard to say it's the best, but I would recommend braving the elements for a venture to Arthur Bryant's. If for nothing else than the looks on people's faces when they order a sandwich for the first time and watch it all go down.

Brother Jimmy's. A New York Institution

Southern Barbeque. Memories of Bessingers in Charleston, South Carolina. Sweet and tangy, succulent, fall-off-the-bone pork. Soft buns, crisp coleslaw, and a jug of sweet tea. Family dinners, wooden tables, no-nonsense. Happy times: warm weather, sunshine, that happy-full feeling.

Brother Jimmy's? Crowded, tasteless, fatty, overpriced. Football decorations for Southern teams, football on TV, various locations across the city including one outside of MSG=perks. But if you want BBQ... real, slow-cooked Southern style BBQ, then this is not the place for you. Simple.