When Pigs Fly

Back to St. Louis. The arch, the lovely architecture and the food. St. Louis-style bbq. Most famous of all in this neck of the woods is Pappy's Smokehouse. This spot is located on Olive Street, almost a straight shot from the Arch. Don't let the long lines intimidate you, they have their service down to a science. You stand in line but don't you dare have your buddy grab a table for your group. A waiter would be on you in a heartbeat, evicting you from your "butt-claim". You just stand in line like the rest of the folks and drool as the platters are being carried out of the kitchen. The smells are overwhelming...in a good way. Set your eyes upward toward that tin ceiling with the displays of bbq sauces from around the world. Think of what awaits your taste buds. After you have ordered, THEN you look for a spot to sit. I don't know how it seems to work but somehow, a place opens up in a few minutes. Grab it then and make your new butt-claim. Plant your fanny and open your mouth to what is now in front of you. The wait is just a few minutes because this bbq has already been pulled apart, ready to be made into the goods. The owner would tell you his bank account number but hey, don't ask for the recipe to the rub. He will even let you peek at what goes on around that smokey bbq pit but there are not many more secrets that he will divulge. If he ever does spill...look to the sky...you might see a little curly tail attached to a pig...flying.