++Meat Smoke++



Yeah, you can pine for food, like a hound dog thats lost its scent. And I miss the smoke, a true BBQ meat takedown. The sight of a clapped out chimney, blackened by years of smoked prime cut paint jobs, protruding from a nondescript  brick square, smothered in tarmac, a little open sign, signals the way in. A room so quiet, even the t.v. is on mute, eaters tuning in to what they’re eating, and tuning out from what is on the tube.

The heaving meat sweat of smoked sausage, dotted with teeth gritting fennel seeds that punch out euphoric liquorice base notes. The smokers outback; atmospheric importers, leave brisket breathless and choking. Burnt ends take the brunt of this prolonged submission, and come out tender, torched and tasty. Laid down in a velvet slick of the finest smoke on smoke BBQ sauce that makes your lips smack and the wonderbread quiver from a nurturing suckle of the sweet stuff.

You, are one smoking away from becoming a tender cut yourself. The air sits edible, a cartoon haze is easily visible. Wipe yourself down when you leave or else a local might take a bite out of you.

Dream a little dream, Kansas City BBQ is supreme.

“G.N.” -needs a BBQ fix….. quick

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