DON’T GIVE ME THE BULLSHIT, IN THE END, DO I TASTE FREAKING-ABSOLUTELY AWESOME?
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To be honest, I don’t think I have ever truly enjoyed BBQ ribs. It has always been, to me at least, more enjoyable as an idea – the smile of the pit-master, the black smoker hissing under the Southern sun, the sense of all American lifestyle – than in actuality. In actuality, I’ve been waiting my whole life so far, to be impressed, turned, proven wrong, by something that I so desperately would like to grow more fond of. But in the end, picking at a pile of ribs that are often borderline dry and overly sweet, I always ended up wondering if I have missed something.
This isn’t to say, the rib’s problem. In fact, any form of scanty meats adhering to a disproportionate amount of bones, that requires bare hands and sheer fangs to tear down, I’m there. In fact, the rib-hole that had been ironically left hollow in my long years spent in holy BBQ-land, was immediately filled and nurtured within a month after I moved here, by the most unlikely of all cuisines. A Northern Chinese creation called, cumin spare ribs. Typically you wouldn’t think the word “mild” is the most associated vocabulary for American BBQ ribs, where plenty of spices and smokes coincide in effort to achieve the opposite. But when put side by side with Chinese’s answer to finger-licking ribs, that’s exactly how they will appear.
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