I don’t know any of these people in this photograph. Or at least I think I don’t. According to @foursquare, my friend Hagan was at The Big Apple BBQ at the same time, but I did not see him. This picture, however, establishes what the BBQ is about. Lines, first of all, and barbeque second; as seen on the construction sign. It’s just fun, really. And this year the lines weren’t even that bad. We waited for a half hour at the most for Big Bob’s, which is a crowd favorite, and some places had no line at all. Maybe it was because we were there earlier rather than later, but I liked it.
I worry sometimes about having children in New York. When the Big Apple BBQ comes around, do I have to bring them with me? Will I leave them in a stroller out of sight in front of a random barbeque pit? I cannot answer these questions.
Here’s the goods from Big Bob Gibson’s B-B-Q straight from Alabama. Pulled pork sammie and slaw. I added the BBQ sauce, cause that’s how I do. Yum, yumz.
And there we are at the picnic tables that show up at Madison Square Park for this weekend only. I recently got a haircut and it needs to grow back already. Also deciding what to do with the color. Continue dying it reddish? I feel so bad for all the chemicals I’ve put on it over the years and kind of want to give it a break. Feedback, if you want.
Here are my ribbies from the 17th st Bar and Grill in Illinois. No BBQ sauce for this one and still pretty good. And now I’m going to reiterate: how can people try so many samples? After this one, I thought I was going to be dead and I cannot imagine possibly trying a third. After the BBQ yesterday, I ran into NYC Food Guy on the street and he told me of all the samples he tried on Saturday and I could have had a heart attack. He also told me how he had Big Bob last year too and I thought to myself, “How can you possibly remember what you tried last year?” And then I remembered we have food blogs. Either I missed the BBQ last year or I didn’t have City Mitten yet. Ha. We are all insane.
And a picture of a pitmaster for ya:
Mr. Cowboy is from Checkered Pig in Virginia. But as I said, had I tried more BBQ, I would be dead. But I do love me some BBQ. Except that there are 18 different ways to write it. BBQ, Bar-B-Q, barbeque, barbecue… What gives? Barbeque is my favorite but Spellcheck always wants to tell me it’s misspelled.
The lines that were dead were all the joints from NYC. I get it, because if those restaurants are here for me every week, why would I try them over restaurants who are only here for the weekend? From Alabama, a state I will probably never go to?
In other news: This has been one of the best weekends for me in months. And I didn’t even “go out” Friday or Saturday. I guess I did make it to a bar on Saturday afternoon for the US versus England World Cup game, but I’m not counting it. Hope everyone else had a good weekend, too! Happy Monday!
City Mitten 