One of our local service organizations are hosting their annual chicken barbeque dinner this Sunday. This is their primary fundraising event and they have been at it for over forty years, and these people really know what they are doing. This is by far the most wonderful tasting chicken b-b-q in the universe. Well at least that I have tried. ( I think they marinate the chickens in crack.) They have a bunch of picnic tables set up so that you can eat right there or you can order your dinners to go. Last year, I attempted to take a couple of these dinners home. I started driving home and I did not get even a half mile down the road when I was overcome with the aromas and forced to pull over to the side of the road and plunge right into them. All thoughts of self control, table manners, and appropriate serving portion size had vanished from my being as I was transformed into a ravenous chicken chomping lunatic. I felt so helpless, yet hedonistically sated. Ther are only four more days until this year’s nirvana and the drool is currently in the formative stages. I am pretty sure that I will be getting a table for this year.
On a simple fluke a few weeks ago, the Hallkids and I stopped by a BBQ place in Philly called Famous Daves. We got the ribs and chicken combo. Yes, the ribs were good, but the chicken…ahhh, the chicken was to die for.
We’re going back this Sunday.
Famous Dave’s is a BBQ chain out of , IIRC, Minnesota, of all places. They just opened a store on Route 1 north of Boston, and we used them to cater our Bad Film Festival last weekend. Very good stuff, although I’d recommend their ribs over the chicken.
You’re darn right! You’re not implying that we Minnesotans don’t know anything about BBQ, are you? Nah, I didn’t think so.
The Famous Dave (Dave Anderson) is a Native American who, I believe, was head of the Bureau for Indian Affairs for awhile.