Once upon a time, a long time ago there was a nice Jewish boy form Kansas City who’s name was Barack Cohen. Now Barack was a real big fellow, more like huge. Even as a child, he was all muscle. Everyone in town knew him as the “Bar” because when he was just a lad, a young girl had become wedged in a gate and was crying in terror. That was when Barack showed up saved the girl and the day by simply bending back the bars on the gate with his bare hands. It was the talk of the town for weeks on end. And although the event had passed with time, the name had not.
The young girl’s name was Beetzam Quanzhi and she was from the orient and her family had recently relocated to the states. Unfortunately, the towns folks had a difficult time pronouncing her name and simply called her B Q.
Anyway, as most tales go, the two of them became friends for life and it wasn’t long there after that the two tied the knot. They settled in a small southern town near the Mexican border and opened up small cantina. One day when preparing the days meats, Barack received a message that B Q’s transportation back to help with the evenings supper crowd had broken down and he would have to pick her up. So, he had to put everything on hold and take off. Not wanting to lose the meats he was cooking, he simply moved them off the fire, covered the pit up and hoped that the hot coals and wood would keep the meat warm until he returned He asked one of his help to throw another log as the previous one burned down. Before heading out, he rubbed the meats with some spices in hopes that it would lessen the chance that meats would burn.
When he and B Q returned, he checked his meats. They were crusted black and had a very smokey odor to them. His meats were ruined. Before giving in, he cut into one of them and was marveled at the fact that it was still very tender on the inside, but it still had this woody odor about it. So, to mask the odor and blackened shell, B Q whipped up some tasty sauce and they covered the meat with it.
It didn’t take long that night to realize that their evening patrons couldn’t get enough of the meat. Well it wasn’t long before everyone in town was heading to the Bar’s cantina for some meats with B Q’s sauce.
It didn’t take long before it became known as Bar’s B Q. The rest is history.
Now, Bararak and Bee Qu have since moved on, but the original recipe has been handed down for generations and is still being served, even today, in a little restaurant in town that is now called Tucson, Arizona. Although over the many years, there have been many folks who have tried to duplicate the Bar B Q, it is just that, a duplicate.
So, if you want the real thing – the meat or the story, you now know where you can get it.