I work in the Midtown area of town. As it is in most large cities, the Midtown area is a collection of differing ethnicity. If I were to guess, I'd say the ratios run around 75% black, 15% white, and 10% other.
Gee, I hope that adds up to 100%. I never was good at higher mathematics.
As you can imagine, when all the cultures meet in a central area there can be a plethora of different types of food. In our little part of the city we have Chinese, Italian, Indian, Middle Eastern, Japanese, Vietnamese, Mexican, down-home, up-town and all-around restaurants.
And we have Barbeque. With a CAPITAL B.
A few months ago a little bitty Barbeque opened up just down the street. They gave out free samples of their chicken wings and cornbread the first few days they were open, and I was one of the blessed recipients of such.
Ladies and Gentlemen! The meat on the chicken wing fairly FLEW off of the bone and into my mouth. It was tender. It was juicy. It was mouthwatering.
It was amazing. It was Barbeque at its finest.
Not only that, but this place has FLAVORED cornbread. Cherry (my favorite), grape, cheesecake, orange, and other flavors make this stuff a little bit of heaven right here on earth.
And whoever heard of FLAVORED cornbread?
Every Friday this restaurant has a Special of the Day. I had forgotten about it since they stopped bringing fliers here to advertise every week. I was on my way out to lunch and had almost decided to get a package of cellophane noodle wraps at the grocery store. But once I walked out the door of the office and got a whiff of the scent that wafted toward me, all thoughts turned to Bar-Be-Que and nothing else.
When I got there, even after 2 p.m., it was crowded. The whole place seats maybe thirty people. I was seated and placed my order. I will admit to ordering this only because you are my dear, close personal friends and because it was the Special of the Day and because confession is good for the soul.
Prime rib, greens and yams. For $9.00. And the portions were HUGE.And yes, I might as well be called "Bacon" instead of my real name, because Interpeeps? I PIGGED OUT.
As I was porking down my food, I also noticed something else. I was the only white person in the restaurant. Remember what I said about Midtown being an eclectic menage (I can't put the little mark over the "e" but you get what I mean) of ethnicity?
I'm here to tell you that I felt like one single, very noticeable, white polka dot on the hind-end section of a purple dress. It's part of the dress as a whole, but it's not necessarily in the right place.
At least it gave me a whole new understanding of what it's like to stick out like a sore thumb.
On the other hand, if the other sore thumbs I know found out about this place it would be even more crowded than it is now.
Instead, I think this little piggy will keep it all to herself.