What is BBQ sauce?, NYC, June 2010

If Eagle's Deli is 110 % American, this place is 111 % American. How my belly sat itself down here deserve a short interjection. I was on the Amtrak to Newark Airport when a lady with a civilised English accent sat next to me. We partook in some small talk where I asked her where would be a good All American American place to nosh down whilst I am in the Big Apple. She mentioned Dallas BBQ where the portions are insane and is as American as an American trying to parallel park. So where was this place? Somewhere in the west side. I was never going to find this place. Something to chew on for future trips me thought.


By Jove, I should have bought a lottery ticket on that day. As soon as I walked out the Metro station where my hotel was, bang! Dallas BBQ slapped me in the chops with a bit of gristle. It was my destiny. Not even Nostradamus could have predicted this. This place was brash and noisy. It was like going to an American sporting event - loads of people wandering around eating. While waiting for a table to be cleared we had to endure the maitre d' announcing on the tannoy every 2 minutes whose table was ready. Extremely irritating like a wart.

We finally sat at our rather sticky table and perused the menu. Not much to it. It was like reading a tabloid newspaper - full of cheap nonsense. What caught my eye though were huge goldfish bowls of luminous beverage being whisked around by waiters on a minimum wage. I needed one of those badboys. To this day, I still can't work out what I drank. It was a cocktail of some sort - a Texan sized cocktail (maybe about a pint and a half) and I am sure it glowed. These glowing cocktail things would have made the Fukushima 50 squirm in their radioactive suits.

Reactor 6

Onto the food. I got a combo platter to try the best Uncle Sam could offer. This consisted of meat of some sort and battered seafood of some sort. The seafood stuff was definitely battered. The thing that sticks in my mind the most is how the meat was covered in thick angry BBQ sauce. What is BBQ sauce? Tomato ketchup is meant to taste like tomatoes, so is BBQ sauce meant to taste like a George Foreman grill? Anyway, the BBQ sauce was like bitumen. This stuff would do a great job filling the potholes in the roads. Mayor of Croydon, make a note. How can I describe this meal? Slow roast your leather shoes for a couple of hours, melt some tarmac and liberally pour onto your laces. This slab of meat had as much taste as Wayne Rooney's rant at the camera.

Verdict of The Ho Down: the Pastor Terry Jones of fine dining....