No one thinks of Vegas as a great barbecue town that would rival, say, Luling, Texas; Hickory, North Carolina; or Kansas City. But we’re inching closer. Famous meateries such as the Salt Lick complement Lucille’s and local faves Barbecue Masters and Adam’s Ribs. Now we have New York City’s RUB, serving the recipes of barbecue maven Paul Kirk, whom many believe does the Big Apple’s top barbecue.
RUB is an acronym for “righteous urban barbecue,” and one visit to the kitchen, which boasts seven JR Oyler smokers, and you know these guys are serious. These are the Cadillacs of smokers, in which meat cooks long and slow. Partner Andrew Fischel, himself a barbecue-obsessed New Yorker, opened one of the boxes, proudly displaying a rack of bronzed pork butts, which later would be turned into pulled pork and other goodies.
People get emotional when the conversation turns to serious barbecue. The wood used is critical, and this joint—a giant, asymmetrical space at the Rio’s Masquerade Village—relies on a variety of hardwoods: oak, hickory, apple, to name just three. The result is terrific.
That might be because the barbecue-circuit-savvy Kirk has won dozens of national and world championships in his craft, although I personally regard “world champion” as valid in the same sense it is in baseball, since the World Series winners don’t play Japan.
At any rate, much of what you eat here is almost perfect, such as incredible bacon, what are called burnt ends and a deliriously smoky, tender pastrami that is possibly better than Carnegie Deli’s, although the marbled rye bread served with it would be better if it were steamed before serving. Kirk’s recipes, incidentally, are executed by barbecue veteran Skip Steele, a burly Memphis boy who has owned several barbecue joints himself.
The restaurant seats 230, with an industrial look enhanced by a wood floor and beamed ceiling. The capacity could be more, in fact, if tables were crowded more closely together and the space between them, which is considerable, was decreased a bit.
I’d also be remiss were I not to mention Fischel’s pride and joy, a black Baker six-speed motorbike sitting outside the entrance. The sidecar is equipped with a grill that reputedly will hold 20 racks of ribs. That’s a toy that most of us can do without, but whatever floats your boat.
It’s probably not a good idea to fill up on appetizers, but a couple of them are musts. If you like pickles, start with a basket of fried dills, crusted with cornmeal and served with a rich, garlicky aioli. Barbecue bacon chunks are so smoky, two or three of them would flavor a whole pot of beans. There’s even Frito pie, if you like that sort of thing.
I’m hooked on the burnt ends, browned nibs of fatty beef brisket, redolent of hickory. A spicy homemade sauce devised by Kirk is the perfect accompaniment, each one with a different amount of crispy brown meat and a varying texture. The ham is delicious, as well. It’s grainy, rather like a Virginia country ham.
Even better are those glorious pork butts, which weigh several pounds apiece. Believe it or not, RUB will sell you the whole shmear, for $89.95, with four side dishes. They call it “the best butt in town,” and they ain’t lyin’. Along with it come four side dishes and all the white bread and sauce you can eat. They serve it. You pull it.
Naturally there are ribs galore, tender baby backs and the larger St. Louis cut, which aficionados find more flavorful although less tender than the baby backs. I did not get a chance to try the sausage platter or the firecracker fried chicken, which I am told is quite good. I did try smoked turkey, tasty, slightly dry slices perfumed with smoke.
My wife doesn’t eat red meat or pork, so she was disappointed that the fried catfish and barbecued salmon, still on the printed menu, are no longer available. A pulled portabella-mushroom sandwich is one option, but it’s a bland entry that seems a trifle sadistic in context.
At least she was able to feast on the side dishes—seasoned French fries, tender mac and cheese, an innovative cucumber-and-tomato salad and the pit baked beans, which she did try, knowing that there may have been meat juices in the mixture. However, she could see the bits of smoky meat in the greens, which I consider the best side of them all here.
In keeping with Southern tradition, there are beverages such as sweet tea or homemade lemonade, a nicely tart version, as well as signature cocktails like a smoked olive martini and the infamous bourbon and Pepsi. For dessert, the ooey gooey butter cake lives up to its name; there are also a fluffy bread pudding and, heavens to Betsy, deep-fried Oreos. Yow!
Vegas, a great barbecue town? Hey, why not.
RUB BBQ
Inside the Rio.
777-7777.
Hours: 4-11 p.m. Monday and Tuesday; 11:30 a.m.-11 p.m. Wednesday-Thursday; 11:30 a.m.-2 a.m. Friday-Saturday. Closed Sunday.
Suggested dishes: Barbecue bacon chunks, $9.75; burnt-end dinner, $19.95; pastrami sandwich, $13.75; three-meat platter, $24.75.