chikinhammr

I spent the day Tuesday with my wonderful friend Ginny. She picked me up at my company's Little Rock, Arkansas terminal around a quarter to three or so and we had a late lunch at a place called the Whole Hog Cafe. It's an awesome little barbecue joint not far from downtown. Ginny seemed a little aprehensive to take me there knowing that I'm kinda snobby about food sometimes, especially BBQ. Her reasoning for believing the place was good was because "a lot of guys eat there." I figured she wanted to check out hot dudes in tight jeans. Her previous meal there was a barbecue salad that she wasn't impressed with. Let me tell you, barbecue salad does not sound good to me coming from anywhere, not even from my own kitchen. When we pulled up into the parking lot the first thing I noticed was what seemed like 100 trophies in the front windows. The chrome pigs topping the awards clued me in to the fact that they weren't bowling trophies. I took this as a good omen. Ginny didn't notice them before. The fact that lots of men ate there was good enough for her. The polished cement floors and simple decor with framed articles and trophies adorning shelf after shelf amplified the smell of smoke-scented meats wafting through the air. A team of punk-ass kids behind the counter stood at the ready, waiting to take our orders and slop them together with something not unlike apathy. Ginny ordered a pulled chicken sandwhich, no cole slaw, and I ordered a jumbo pulled pork sandwhich with slaw on the side. With beverages- a sweet tea and a water, the total was less than $13.00. Ginny took a call from a high powered executive (I think it was Bill Clinton) while I filled our glasses with ice. Less than 3 minutes after placing the order, our sandwhiches appeared and we sat to eat. I took a little bit of the meat from my sammich with a fork and sampled it without sauce to get a true reading on the skill of the cook. I was definitely impressed. The meat was very tender, not too fatty, and was impregnated with that delicious smoke flavor that makes barbecue what it is. It was awesome. After eating the naked pork, I sampled a little bit of the meat from the huge sandwhich with a dab of each of the 6 different available sauces and settled on #2. A blend of vinegar, spices, and tomato base. My second favorite was the Georgia/Carolina style mustard-based sauce. Well, I slathered on the #2 (not a great name for a food product, kids) and hunkered down on that bad boy. The creamy but not over sauced cole slaw helped to keep the spicy sauce on my sandwhich in check while I washed down the tasty meat into my ample belly with tasty sweet iced tea. I have to say that that was the best pulled pork sammich I've ever had, food fans. I'm eager to return and try the ribs next time. Ginny's chicken sandwhich was good too. To me, BBQ chicken is best made at home. In order to keep the masses from dying of salmonella, BBQ joints tend to murder the chicken, cooking it to a dry texture, so I personally don't judge a place by their chicken. It was pretty good though. Unfortunately for Ginny, the place wasn't very crowded at 3:30, and the only beautiful, hot man for her to ogle was me. After lunch, Ginny showed me one of the properties that the non-profit she works for manages. It's a very tranquil place called the Oasis. It's a retreat of sorts nestled in the woods in West Little Rock. There are lakes, ponds, a waterfall, a house where peaceful lesbians live, a conference center, an art room and a signed picture of Garrison Keillor wishing well to some group called the Rhubarb Club. After a few minutes there we thought we might go check out a movie. Nothing was playing that we wanted to waste 3 hours wating for to start so we went to Ginny's house in Morrilton after a stop at Sonic for an Orange Cream Slush, my new favorite thing on Planet Earth. So, we hung out at her house, took some pictures of her puppy Sonoma and ourselves, listened to our favorite radio program Powershift, and made googly eyes at each other for awhile. Ginny is such a sweet girl. I can't say enough good things about her without writing a book here, so I won't. The drive back to Little Rock came too soon, but alas, I'm sure we will be hanging out again soon.
Y'all get yourself some Whole Hog Cafe BBQ the next time you're in Little Rock. Say hi to Ginny if you see her. She'll the gorgeous redhead with the sweetest smile, eating a chicken sammich, checking out dudes in tight pants.