After blazing a line South through the snow and ice storm last Tuesday, we ended up in Hot Springs, Arkansas for the night. On little more than a fortuitous recommendation from a perfect stranger (sometimes, the best kind), we ended up staying at
The Arlington Hotel and eating—not once, but twice in less than 24 hours—at McClard’s Bar-B-Q Restaurant.
McClard’s Bar-B-Q
We pulled into the parking lot and bee-lined to the backdoor of the joint to take a peek at what kind of cooker they were using. We were greeted by a Wall of Smoke (thank you, Phil Specter)—a multi-layered sensory symphony of burning pecan and hickory mingling with the sweet fumes of rendering pork fat.
Pork on the pit
McClard’s, like so many other great, old barbecue places, comes with a touch of quaint folklore: Back in the 20s, Alex and Gladys McClard ran a motel called the Westside Tourist Court, down the street from the current location of the restaurant. When a guest couldn’t scrape together the $10 he owed the McClard’s in rent, he offered a recipe for “the world’s greatest barbecue sauce.” As the tale goes, the couple accepted the barter and loved the sauce so much, in 1928, the Westside Tourist Court turned into Westside Bar-B-Q. It’s a great story, and the sauce is certainly a fine one—nice heat, with a touch of sweetness—but their barbecue is the kind best eaten without accoutrement.
McClard’s pitmaster, John Thomas (he married into the barbecue dynasty)
McClard’s Ribs
McClard’s Ribs, in close-up
Pork Bar-B-Q sandwich, chopped
I don’t think McClard’s style of tamale is the traditional
Mississippi Delta Tamales, but the ones we sampled were spicy, meaty and delicious. The tamale doesn’t have the telltale cornhusk ridges, and were quite soft, without the distinct cornmeal-y texture. We asked “why tamales?”, and were told that the McClard’s wanted to find a way to use up the leftover bits and pieces of barbecue debris. Frugality and ingenuity. Very tasty.
Tamale, served with saltine crackers
Tamale Plate, a specialty of McClard’s: One or two tamales, heaped with beans, raw white onions, cheese and Fritos.
Some sordid history on Hot Springs: The bathhouses in town were apparently a big draw for Chicago gangsters looking to escape the brutal winters. We were told that the town of Hot Springs was considered neutral territory. Al Capone commandeered the 4th Floor of the hotel during his stays, and there’s an Al Capone Suite in the hotel now. The storytellers mentioned that Hot Springs never had a problem with organized crime or related violence in the city, despite being a gathering place. But one guy also told us that a mere week before the St. Valentine’s Day massacre, Mr. Capone and Company had gathered for a meeting in Hot Springs. Our theory: someone got snapped on the ass with a wet towel one too many times in one of the bathhouses, and sought his revenge when they returned to Chicago.
The Arlington Hotel is gorgeous, and home to the only direct natural hot spring-fed whirlpool in the country.
The bathhouse is a classic, subway tiled, open-room affair, with gregarious and friendly attendants to usher you through your ablutions.
And the water in Hot Springs is everything they say it is—sweet, mineral-y and delicious. Excellent for drinking…or bathing in. There are several water filling stations around town—some hot, some cold—where tourists and locals alike convene to fill water bottles.
McClard’s Barbecue
505 Albert Pike Road
Hot Springs, AR
501-623-9665