reporting from kansas city, mo.
Please don't tell the family this, but they're not the only reason I return to Kansas City whenever I can. I love them, of course, but I can talk to them on the phone. We can e-mail. We can Twitter, for crying out loud.
But barbecue is something you have to do in person. And it is best done here in the Heartland. Sorry, Santa Maria, no disrespect to your juicy tri-tip. Forgive me, Lexington, N.C. Your pulled pork is fabulous. And a tip of the hat to you, Memphis. Ribs at the Rendezvous are always memorable.
But Kansas City has made an art of this science of slow-smoked meats. So when business brought me back for 36 hours last month, I knew I could partake at least five times if I didn't mind barbecue for a late breakfast. And I didn't, mostly. But I'll explain that in a minute.
What I want to explain now is how Kansas City became a barbecue mecca and why you're not going to hear me talk extensively about Arthur Bryant's or Gates.
The barbecue legend started with Henry Perry, who is said to have opened a barbecue shack in the early 1900s in downtown Kansas City, Mo. Perry had an employee named Charlie Bryant who eventually bought him out. Charlie Bryant had a brother named Arthur Bryant, who took over from Charlie, opening what writer Calvin Trillin called the best restaurant in the world: the self-named barbecue apex that's been at 18th and Brooklyn for a half-century or so.
Bryant's has it all: the feel of a joint that's just this side of grubby, the ribs that are just this side of heaven, which is where Arthur Bryant (and his brother and his brother's former boss) now reside, I am certain. Taste the ribs or the sliced meats (or get it to go in the butcher paper) and you cannot help but believe.
Gates, meanwhile, traces its roots back to George Gates, who also is said to have worked with Henry Perry. When you walk in the door of any Gates restaurant (there are six, including one up the street from Bryant's), you're greeted with, "Hi, may I help you?" which some people find off-putting and others find friendly. I am always a bit unnerved, because I'm usually having a mental tussle: Ribs? Burnt ends? Sliced beef sandwich?
There's really not a wrong answer. In nearly 20 years of Gates-going, I have never had anything less than fabulous, smoky, rich and tender.
So in this discussion of barbecue, let's put aside Bryant's and Gates, because you cannot top perfection.
