A big lot with two rows of car slips, order-matic menus, and trays mounted on articulated arms so you can pull dinner right up to the side of your vehicle, Bar B Q King is true 20th century Americana (since 1959). While many customers eat in their car, phone-ahead service is popular, too: call in your order, then arrive to pick up meals packed in the sturdy cardboard boxes that have become the BBQK trademark.
Our first visit, we made the mistake of asking the car hop for a “pork sandwich.” What we got was a perch sandwich. We ate it anyway, and it was marvelous – moist, sweet white meat so satisfying it reminded us of the best pork, but encased in a golden crust. In fact, the perch was so good, we then ordered trout, shrimp, and oysters – all fried in that only-in-the-South soulful way that’s guaranteed to convert even a diehard fish frowner.
What we learned from our experience – other than to recommend BBQK as a fine fried-fish restaurant – is that if you want smoked pork hereabouts, you don’t say “pork”; you say “barbecue.” Pork is all there is. It is available sliced or minced (the latter really is pulverized, the former “hacked”); and it, too, is superb – tender, succulent, veiled in a subtle sauce that does not overwhelm the meat’s fundamental fineness.