The NO-K Corral

July 23rd, 2008

I had driven by the place about twenty times and always told myself that I was going to stop one day and check out the food. There were a bunch of picnic tables and what appeared to be a couple of bench seats from automobiles. They could well have been out of some old pickup trucks or maybe even some old bus. The place looked a little on the run down side and maybe even a little bit dangerous but if you’re advertising barbecue you can usually get by with out worrying about small details like curb appeal. The place sat right on the street of a busy neighborhood in a large metropolitan city and the sign was barely visible at all but it said Barbecue. The OK Corral. OK. Today was the day I finally stopped.

After parking the car I walked up to the entrance and found a rather large black man sitting on one of the pickup bench seats. I’m not too shy so I just asked him right out. “Is the food any good in this place?”

“You’re damn right it is. I don’t know if he’s open yet or not” and then he hollered in to someone and the next thing I knew I was entering what was probably the least ostentatious restaurant I have ever stepped foot in. There were a few round short tables and some small stools that surrounded them. Not one thing matched in the whole place and I soon discovered a small sign that hung next to the way too visible kitchen that had a short list of foods available. The choices were limited to dinners. Chicken, links, ribs and catfish or you could get the a sample dinner that included some of everything but the catfish. That was it.

The first word that came to my mind after looking the place over was unsanitary. As I said earlier, I could see way too much of the kitchen. A short man emerged from the kitchen and I placed my order for the sample dinner. Three ribs, a piece of chicken and a link. Next to the “menu” was a sign announcing that because of the high cost of greens, when they were available they were going to cost extra. This proclamation was signed by Otis and I soon discovered that he was the man I met out front and he was the owner. He came in after my order was taken and told the waiter/cook/maitre’d that I had asked if the food was good and he wanted him to fix me up “real good” so that I could see just how damn good the food was. Most of the sentences he used contained various and surprisingly poignant profanities. He seemed to have a large faith in the fare he offered and absolutely no concern whatsoever what perspective customers might think about his language. He was a very open man.

After several stops at the microwave that sat on a card table just outside the kitchen area I was presented with a styrofoam box containing my order and asked if I was taking it with me or eating there. I decided to soak up the atmosphere of the place and said I would be eating there so he went back to the kitchen and brought me a fork. He also offered me some juice and since I had not seen anything resembling a wine list or even the chance of a bottled beer, I took him up on his offer. He brought me a lukewarm beverage in a blue plastic cup and after tasting it I decided that it was koolaid or something made with powder and water. I was glad I got it after I tasted the sauce that was covering everything in my styrofoam box.

There was a small section of hushpuppies that had been microwaved and/or fried to death and another small section of some sort of rice and bean mix that the waiter/cook himself commented “needed some liquid or something”.

While I was eating another diner came in and ordered the same dinner I was enjoying and I asked him if he had ever eaten at the OK Corral before.

“No, but I’ve walked by it a lot and always wondered”.

We both would wonder no more.

In the large section of the styrofoam dinner box was a collection of chicken and ribs and a link sausage of some sort that I did not recognize. Everything was completely covered in a spicy tomato based sauce that I will not soon forget. I believe it may have been a combination of KC Masterpiece Sauce, ketchup and hot sauce, but I could not tell for certain. I sure was glad to have the lukewarm koolaid to help wash it down. The link itself was a bit spicy as well and I only managed to get half of it down. I also left a large portion of the rubbery hush puppies.

There are many kinds of barbecue in this great nation we live in and I always enjoy a chance to taste what some people think is special fare. Otis had described it as southern. My experience has been that the futher one travels from the south, the easier it is to pass off what you serve as southern. Now that my curiosity is satisfied, I do not have to wonder about the OK Corral and I can continue my hunt for the barbecue of my dreams.

Entry Filed under: The Wandering Barbecue Hound