Barbecue Season
Along with Lem’s and the Rib Joint, Barbara Ann’s forms one corner of an inverted triangle of south-side barbecue that the rest of the city would do well to study. Ribs and tips are quite good, but Barbara Ann’s turns out particularly excellent hot links. Fat and spiced with hints of sage and hot pepper, they have a coarse grind that proves an unmistakably direct relationship to pork, something not actually all that common in your garden-variety sausage. The business model of a rib joint and an affiliated neighboring motel (Motel Two) is oddly perfect. —Mike Sula
$Lunch, dinner: Tuesday-Saturday | Closed Sunday, Monday | Open late: Friday & Saturday till 1 | Cash only
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Gale Street Inn, whose near half a century of success owes in large part to its reputation for ribs, wouldn’t survive 40 days let alone 40 years in a city that understood barbecue. Yet mobs of north-siders regularly hunch over their plates here, slurping sloppy oversauced mush. There oughta be a law against calling boiled, steamed, or roasted meat barbecue, but that’s the vaunted fall-off-the-bone Chicago style—the official rib of the toothless. Evidence of GSI’s crimes against pork is in the total absence of smoke or any flavor beneath the sauce and in the piles of bones so cleanly stripped of meat they look like they’ve been bleached in the desert. It’s a shame, because in many respects Gale Street is a wonderful family-style place, starting with a first-rate bar attended by uniformed mixologists who know exactly what they’re doing. Jefferson Park’s never exactly been hopping, but Gale Street serves as a scene all its own for those happy to eat their chops and stuffed shrimp to live jazz combos playing standards. And on Sundays there’s a magician for the youngsters. The seasonal brunch ends May 25 and will resume after Labor Day. —Mike Sula
George’s Rib House168 W. 147th, Harvey | 708-331-9347
As the saying goes, Hecky Powell’s forgotten more about barbecue than most people know. Unfortunately that seems to include knowing how to use the wood-fired Chicago-style aquarium smoker that dominates the cooking area visible to the customer. These days equipment in a side room churns out uninspired BBQ for legions of loyal customers who embrace Hecky’s motto: “It’s the sauce.” The motto’s catchy, but barbecue is about meat, smoke, and fire. And Hecky’s ribs, while among the best on the north side, ultimately don’t hold up. Baby backs, colored a deep mahogany, appear promising at first blush but turn out to be dry and stringy, with no detectable smoke flavor. While they carry a whiff of smoke, rib tips are likewise dry, chewy, and fatty. Hot links fare better, with an agreeable taste enhanced by assertive spicing, and the spareribs are edible. About that sauce: it’s mild and veers in the direction of flavor before being undone by a sweet and syrupy overlay. Best in show is Hecky’s greaseless and spicy fried chicken. —Gary Wiviott
$Lunch, dinner: seven days | Open late: Friday & Saturday till 1:30, Monday-Thursday till 11:30| Cash only
