Colon of Steel
My friend Justin sent me an e-mail about the L.A. BBQ Festival. He asked if I wanted to join he and Meredith of Pretty Sharp fame. Charred meat in Santa Monica, how could I say no? I called Justin when I got up this morning. He told me that he and Meredith couldn’t go because of nanny problems. I shouldn’t have been surprised considering the subject of Meredith’s latest post Nannygate. Justin did drive by the festival and he told me there were tents with lots of smoke emanating from them. And you all know: where there’s smoke, there’s barbecue.
I hopped on my bike and headed down to the Santa Monica pier. I figured it would be like the occasional health fair down at the promenade. Just a bunch of geriatrics and homeless people milling about. I was quite surprised to see a line of over a hundred people waiting for the festival to begin. I got in line. Away in the distance I could see the box office with a “Will Call” and “Buy Tickets” section. I asked the person in front of me about our line. He said, “None of us have tickets.” I wasn’t buying it, so I headed to the box office, where there was no line. I handed them ten bucks, and got a ticket. (They also sell VIP tickets for fifty bucks which allows you to go to a separate line.) I walked back and shared this information with the end of the line, which started to move. I saw the list of barbecue purveyors, of which there were eight, three were from out of town, the ones I would try. I figure, although I love Baby Blues, why should I get it at a festival when it’s just down the street. In any case, my first stop was LC’s from Kansas City, MO. They had spare ribs and baked beans. (Each stand was ten bucks a plate.) It was pretty good, not great. Luckily, I got there early, because the line grew long. Not as long as the beer line, though. It always shocks me how long some people will wait for a bud light. I picked up my garbage and looked for a trash can. None to be found. There was a recycling bin. Way to plan ahead Santa Monica. In line for my spare ribs, a gentleman told me about Elgin sausage from Texas. That was my next stop.
Sausage with a side of brisket, this was my kind of stand. The sausage was off the chain. It did look pink in the middle, which concerned me. I’m sure I’ll be fine but if I don’t live through the weekend, please bury me in sausage casing. My last stop was Bandana BBQ from St. Louis, MO. They, also, had spare ribs and baked beans. I didn’t really want to repeat the first plate I had but they did come all the way from Misery. It was good, not great. I was a little disappointed that the spare ribs weren’t cut. It reminded me of Bob Vance’s bachelor party on The Office. Stanley tries to cut his steak with a plastic knife and it breaks, while Creed gets primal on his, no need for utensils. I’m more like Creed. I wandered around, kind of wanting another plate, but I was all full up of meat. I thought about trying out some Mac n’ Cheese, but ten bucks seemed a lot for a few bites.
I decided to head home. I had a great time, but if I were to do it again, I would get a posse of super hungry stoners (redundant?) and get one VIP ticket, so one of us could jump the line. Next year. I did consume quite a bit of meat (several kilos, I’d guess) so why don’t you can check out my new dvd, Colon of Steel.
