Probably the last thing we need here are more opinions on KC barbecue. Especially opinions based on single visits to several places last summer and the summer before that. My excuse is I'm only now getting around to cleaning up my files, chipping away at a huge backlog of old posts. You've been warned.
It's been so long since my visit to Oklahoma Joe's (the one in Olathe) that it has a new name now—Joe's Kansas City.

From the suburban mall location to the ostentatious display at the entrance, I was primed to dislike the place. Being herded down the cafeteria line, having to deal with the disinterested meat slingers didn't help. It had been a long, hot day and I was tired. But I was in an air conditioned room with some pretty good smells so began to perk up a little.

A bite of pork sandwich...somewhat dry meat overwhelmed by the roll...nice well-integrated smoke flavor though...not great but not bad at all.

Then a spoonful of beans...awfully heavy on the sauce and fragments of barbecue...hmm, not bad at all...another spoonful...okay, really quite good. Brisket too thinly sliced and kinda dry looking...really good flavor though, even without all the dripping fat like in Texas...the more I ate, the more I liked it.

Baby backs aren't my preferred rib, but if they were all this good I could understand why people get so excited. Seemed straight out of the smoker. Really nice effort.
I left as a grudging admirer. No, not everything was perfect and, yes, the whole operation seemed pretty soulless, but being able to crank out that quantity of good barbecue is impressive.
When we visited Q39 last August, it had been open only a few months. Of course, a lot could have changed.

We had a pork sandwich, burnt ends, brisket, potato salad and cassoulet-style beans.


It's easy to summarize the barbecue: everything was remarkably similar in flavor and texture. I won't go into detail since things have probably changed, but it all seemed like it sat in a steam cabinet for a while (what looks like crisp bark, wasn't). I was ambivalent about both the nontraditional beans, with their un-BBQ-like flavors, and the unusual take on potato salad, with sour cream and tarragon dressing. It's nice they're trying something new, but I didn't love either side.
Unprepossessing, that's the word for LC's. No competition trophies, just a few taxidermied fish decorating the dining room. I'd dreamed about visiting LC's for decades and at last there I was, gazing into that beautiful vault of meat. For whatever it's worth, we were the first customers of the day.

An order of the legendary burnt ends—half pork, half beef—and half a slab seemed about right.

That's pork in back, beef in front.

I can't put it any other way, the pork was the worst barbecue I've had anywhere in three visits to KC. It had a distinct petroleum taste and an unpleasantly firm texture, as if it needed a few more hours in the smoker. But the beef was spectacular, henceforth defining burnt ends for me. Those crisp-barked, smoky, juicy-but-not-fatty nubs approach my idea of barbecue perfection.
The blackened ribs looked like they'd been forgotten in a back corner of the smoker.

I was expecting the burnt ends to be good but the ribs caught me by surprise. Some of my favorite ribs ever. The black crust was great, but the innards were somehow not dried out. Nearly all the fat had rendered away, leaving dense, tender, succulent meat. I can't imagine the ribs are always
quite this good. It's experiences like this that make all those years of mediocre barbecue experiences worthwhile. I can't wait to return to LC's, but will try not to have unrealistic expectations.