Pig iron bbq

• Pig Iron Bar-B-Q
  www.pigironbbq.net
  5602 1st Ave S
  (206) 768-1009

  I have a theory about why people love the pizza they love.

  It's the "My Pizza is Pizza but Yours is Crap" theory. Simply: everyone judges pizza based on what they grew up on, regardless of its quality. Everyone's an expert, arguing about it will get you nowhere, though everyone does. We each know precisely what the best 'za is, but when you dig down a little into what that may be -- it's always the one from the neighborhood, or city, from which the speaker originates.

Pig Iron Bar-B-Q
www.pigironbbq.net
5602 1st Ave S
(206) 768-1009

I have a theory about why people love the pizza they love.

It's the "My Pizza is Pizza but Yours is Crap" theory. Simply: everyone judges pizza based on what they grew up on, regardless of its quality. Everyone's an expert, arguing about it will get you nowhere, though everyone does. We each know precisely what the best 'za is, but when you dig down a little into what that may be -- it's always the one from the neighborhood, or city, from which the speaker originates.

They can be as different as those deep-dish cheese and salumi casseroles that Chicagoans call pizza, or the thin-skinned, foldable! ones favored by New Yorkers. Each insist each is the only pizza there is.

As a Western Washingtonian who remembers a small town, pre-Pizza Hut America, the one I imprinted on was from Shakey's, a long-gone chain with a rinky-dink piano and whose wet, cheesy, thick, bready pies were better than any of the above, thank-you very much, fuck-you, have a nice day.

I bring up this controversial topic because the same goes for barbecue.

From Dallas, or Cincinnati, or Memphis or Hong Kong, or Oakland or Tacoma? Then you know what's the end-of-story, best goddam 'Q is -- and nobody around here knows what they're talking about. You've probably got strong opinions on grilling vs. barbecuing; baby backs vs spare ribs; saucing yes, saucing no; saucing before, during or after.

(I escaped all that -- never eating real BBQ until I was far from home. Barbecue, growing up in Ferndale was but a process by which our parents produced that much-maligned, but long-gone staple of the middle class Northwest family diet: leftover salmon.)

Seattle for years was losing when it came to BBQ, but then the Jones family hit town with their giant ribolators and their multious Jones BBQ locations; we got Roy's in Columbia City; Pecos Pit in SoDo: Smoking Pete's in Ballard (run by a Jew from the Brooklyn); the Hole in the Wall on James St., and lots of others, (of which I'll surely hear for not mentioning) and including Georgetown's Pig Iron BBQ. 

There's good food in Georgetown tucked in among the warehouses, small manufacturers and recyclers. The neighborhood is nice for a postprandial stroll along the railroad tracks; or you and your companion can watch stray dogs be hit by the many colorful 18-wheelers. These same streets are usually sans sidewalks so you'll tread on ancient soils saturated with pollutants since before your grandma freshened.

Not even rhodies grow in G-Town. 

Pig Iron is a slackadaiscal joint on 56th block of 1st Ave South; deep in Georgetown conveniently near the no-tell La Hacienda motel and is clean and known for homey slacker touches like prison rodeo posters and Hell's Angels paraphernalia; they're slightly louche and tacky-hip with cans of Old Milwaukee, and PBR's; Green River soda, and grape Nehi. Ambient Ramones and Johnny Cash singing Bridge Over Troubled Waters add to the altie/slacker atmospherics.

Dee Dee, the moderately tattooed waitress of a certain age self-describes as a weirdo but is nonetheless friendly, attentive, and helpful as we meander over the menu.

Barbecue joints, like hookers, trade on their flesh. But what first turned our heads and distinguished Pig Iron from the rest was not the meat, but the side dishes.

Creamed corn? That scary canned gruel favored by school hot lunch cooks? No. Here it's just corn, and cream; sweet as a farm girl on a summer night in Sioux City. (Did You Know??? Corn is often used in Japan as a pizza topping!)

Don't get me wrong they have honest-to-jebus, dry rubbed, long-smoked pork, beef brisket, turkey, chicken, sausage, spare ribs, and baby back ribs. And catfish. It's smoky and even the turkey breast is moist.

There's a trio of sauces on every table: a worthy BBQ sauce, a chipotle (or "chipoty" as Kirby Wilbur (KVI m-f, 5-9) would say) sauce which had a little too much worcestershire; but the mustard sauce will make you wanna holler hidey-ho. I took home a 16 oz ($6) for drinking straight out of the bottle on long blogging nights.

But those starters and side dishes! Jalepeños stuffed with white cheddar, maple bacon, and roasted corn; fried green tomatoes; sweet potato fries; jalapeño spinach casserole; mashed potato salad; smoky beans; greens; cornbread dressing, mashers with Pig Iron gravy.

There's a full bar and cocktails like the Pig Iron Rita, or the Red Devil which has Red Bull in it so you know it's healthful as well as tasty; there's Shiner bock and Oly on tap.

Did we mention the joint is popular as free money?

Owner Michael Lucas actually lived in Texas, but claims the only lasting effect it had on him was the recipes. He's very recently opened Slim's Last Chance Chili Shack & Watering Hole next door to Pig Iron where he's serving Texas red, brisket & beans, and Chili Verde.

You won't be hearing much more about barbecues outa me. Like steak houses, they're mostly all the same, and everyone, as I've mentioned, already has their minds made up. But this place we think is something special.

From Dallas, or Cincinnati, or Memphis or Hong Kong, or Oakland or Tacoma? Then you know what's the end-of-story, best goddam 'Q is -- and nobody around here knows what they're talking about. You've probably got strong opinions on grilling vs. barbecuing; baby backs vs spare ribs; saucing yes, saucing no; saucing before, during or after.

(I escaped all that -- never eating real BBQ until I was far from home. Barbecue, growing up in Ferndale was but a process by which our parents produced that much-maligned, but long-gone staple of the middle class Northwest family diet: leftover salmon.)

Seattle for years was losing when it came to BBQ, but then the Jones family hit town with their giant ribolators and their multious Jones BBQ locations; we got Roy's in Columbia City; Pecos Pit in SoDo: Smoking Pete's in Ballard (run by a Jew from the Brooklyn); the Hole in the Wall on James St., and lots of others, (of which I'll surely hear for not mentioning) and including Georgetown's Pig Iron BBQ. 

There's good food in Georgetown tucked in among the warehouses, small manufacturers and recyclers. The neighborhood is nice for a postprandial stroll along the railroad tracks; or you and your companion can watch stray dogs be hit by the many colorful 18-wheelers. These same streets are usually sans sidewalks so you'll tread on ancient soils saturated with pollutants since before your grandma freshened.

Not even rhodies grow in G-Town. 

Pig Iron is a slackadaiscal joint on 56th block of 1st Ave South; deep in Georgetown conveniently near the no-tell La Hacienda motel and is clean and known for homey slacker touches like prison rodeo posters and Hell's Angels paraphernalia; they're slightly louche and tacky-hip with cans of Old Milwaukee, and PBR's; Green River soda, and grape Nehi. Ambient Ramones and Johnny Cash singing Bridge Over Troubled Waters add to the altie/slacker atmospherics.

Dee Dee, the moderately tattooed waitress of a certain age self-describes as a weirdo but is nonetheless friendly, attentive, and helpful as we meander over the menu.

Barbecue joints, like hookers, trade on their flesh. But what first turned our heads and distinguished Pig Iron from the rest was not the meat, but the side dishes.

Creamed corn? That scary canned gruel favored by school hot lunch cooks? No. Here it's just corn, and cream; sweet as a farm girl on a summer night in Sioux City. (Did You Know??? Corn is often used in Japan as a pizza topping!)

Don't get me wrong they have honest-to-jebus, dry rubbed, long-smoked pork, beef brisket, turkey, chicken, sausage, spare ribs, and baby back ribs. And catfish. It's smoky and even the turkey breast is moist.

There's a trio of sauces on every table: a worthy BBQ sauce, a chipotle (or "chipoty" as Kirby Wilbur (KVI m-f, 5-9) would say) sauce which had a little too much worcestershire; but the mustard sauce will make you wanna holler hidey-ho. I took home a 16 oz ($6) for drinking straight out of the bottle on long blogging nights.

But those starters and side dishes! Jalepeños stuffed with white cheddar, maple bacon, and roasted corn; fried green tomatoes; sweet potato fries; jalapeño spinach casserole; mashed potato salad; smoky beans; greens; cornbread dressing, mashers with Pig Iron gravy.

There's a full bar and cocktails like the Pig Iron Rita, or the Red Devil which has Red Bull in it so you know it's healthful as well as tasty; there's Shiner bock and Oly on tap.

Did we mention the joint is popular as free money?

Owner Michael Lucas actually lived in Texas, but claims the only lasting effect it had on him was the recipes. He's very recently opened Slim's Last Chance Chili Shack & Watering Hole next door to Pig Iron where he's serving Texas red, brisket & beans, and Chili Verde.

You won't be hearing much more about barbecues outa me. Like steak houses, they're mostly all the same, and everyone, as I've mentioned, already has their minds made up. But this place we think is something special.

Comments

[susanexpress.ca]

And all this are actually prevented if blizz get selling gold through their game legal. Aka blizz pays the tax and becomes a fee for each alternate that players make.

[GW2 Gold]

I'm sure Blizz can spare quite a lot million to shut each side up.