(In part one, I established how meat is better than salad, but sometimes people screw meat up...now a harrowing real-life example of when BBQ goes bad).
I was going to see Lewisville play at Fox Creek. I did a little research and discovered a well-respected and highly thought of barbecue restaurant in North Augusta. In reviews I read, the place was especially lauded for it's ribs and desserts. Ribs + cake= happy Travis. So, I tried to leave the office that day a little early to allow myself some eat time. It quickly became obvious that my best laid plan was going to go awry. First of all, the restaurant I so desperately wanted to visit closes at 6 p.m. on Wednesdays, I assume so the owners can go to church. Even having left early, I was going to cut it awfully close. The directions I'd obtained were also a bit faulty. I was told the place was "just off" of Highway 121. It was, if the magic voice inside my phone was accurate, 12 miles off the highway. Is 12 miles "just off"? In Southern-direction giving parlance, I think 12 miles is "a fur piece" or maybe "a good ways." Driving 24 extra miles there and back would also have endangered my making it to the game on time, which was the really important thing anyway. Ribby deliciousness and cake-y goodness would have to wait for another day, I thought. Still, I had skipped lunch in anticipation of my big barbecue meal and was awfully hungry, so I still needed to find somewhere to eat. As I drove down the road, I thought I might have found my answer. A large barbecue restaurant was not only open, they had a flashing "buffet" sign lit. I pulled over and tried to find a review of the place on my phone, but couldn't locate one. But come on, it was barbecue, what's the worst that could happen? Because of the nature of the commentary to follow, I will use an assumed name for the restaurant...let's call it "The Sad Meat Jubilee." My first hint that perhaps better vittles could be had elsewhere was the fact that only two customers were in the restaurant. It was around 6 p.m., which is prime supper-eating time and a tasty barbecue buffet would figure to draw in a good-sized crowd. I walked in and started to question my choice almost immediately. Everything just looked old and and sort of pitiful, from the carpet to the wallpaper. Tasty food can come from the most meager of accommodations, but this was just different. It looked like a funeral home...so I guess we were having a visitation for the pig I was about to eat. It also smelled old. About the time I'd decided to explore other culinary options, the one person working there had seen me. Against my own instincts and better judgement, I almost felt obligated to find a table and order something. I inquired of the one employee about the buffet. "It's all-you-can-eat for $7.50," she said. This should have been a second hint that perhaps I should seek out an alternate feeding location. You can sometimes find good, bargain-priced food, but often times a price that low indicates corners are being cut somewhere. I went to the buffet which was small and had limited choices. The barbecue looked like barbecue, at least, so I piled some of that on my plate. There was a big tub of watery red sauce next to it. I figured it was a tomato-vinegar sauce, which isn't my favorite but isn't bad, so I ladled that on. Next to the sauce was some unidentifiable red goop. I stirred it up a little trying to figure out exactly what it was. I think it was supposed to be hash. Sane people would have left the stuff sitting there, but I got some rice and spooned on the mystery meat. There were green beans, but they looked waxy and there was some sort of sweet potato dish, but I don't eat sweet potatoes. I'd just stick with the two "meats," I guessed. I sat down and took a bite of the barbecue. It didn't taste bad really, because it didn't have a taste. There was no smoke flavor and no seasoning to speak of. Also, contrary to what the menu said, the meat was not "juicy." There appeared to be some bits of bark mixed in, but it wasn't that magical combination of rendered fat, caramelized sugar and spices...it was just black, burnt meat. Well, maybe the flavor would come from the sauce, I thought. As mentioned, sauce should never have to save barbecue, just enhance it, but it was about the only option I had left. It definitely added flavor...a horrible, off-putting, flavor. The sauce basically tasted like old tomato soup...not "good old tomato soup" mind you, just OLD tomato soup. If Mr. And Mrs. Campbell themselves had made the soup 10 minutes prior, it would still be an ill fit with barbecue. Stale soup...bleh! The hash, which I'm certain came from a can, had been "livened up" I think, with that same sauce. I would have tried to apply some salt and pepper, but the salt was sort of yellowish. I don't even want to think about what might make salt turn yellow. Double bleh! So, just to review, the décor was dreary and the food tasted like failure and old socks. That meant there was only one thing left...one redeeming quality the place could possibly have. I mean, there are three things you judge an eatery on. How it looks, how the food tastes and... "You'll have to call back later," the one employee said to whoever had just called as a fourth customer walked in. "We're getting real busy." So the service was lacking as well. Oddly, the woman asked that fourth customer if he was going to "have his usual." He'd eaten this stuff and come back? Maybe it was court-mandated punishment or something. I decided to cut my losses. I covered most of the food on my plate with a napkin, paid my bill and left. As I drove down the road, I could still taste that awful sauce. It actually lingered into the next day. Maybe it was just that bad, but maybe I was wallowing in self-pity. I had primed and readied myself for tasty smoked pig and had been given poop on a plate instead. Maybe I was tasting disappointment. I should have just gotten a salad!
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TravisI am Travis, the king 0f SC 1A Football Archives
November 2021
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