I Simply Remember My Favorite . . .

by Chris Becicka

Good news: I'll spare you the song. But the sentiment is worthy—when the dog bites or the bee stings or when I’m feeling bad, a superior meal at a great restaurant provided by a terrific server will always make me happy. Doesn’t rhyme, though.

I was reminded of that shallow fact of my existence when a new acquaintance discovered my food critiquing avocation. After the inevitable body-scaping vertical evaluation, wherein she saw the truth of the job, she asked the inevitable question: “So what’s your favorite restaurant?”

I was forced, once again, to dodge, to evade, to side-step. I’ve become quite proficient at these dance steps (unlike my real dancing lessons) because what sounds like a simple question is, for me, oh-so-complex.

Do you mean favorite as in best but expensive restaurant? Or where I go for a hamburger? Or the place I feel most comfortable? Or the most unusual place? Or where I’d take out-of-towners for a Kansas City steak? Or best new place? Or where I’d choose if it were just it and me on a desert island? (Other people choose books, I know.)

Even as I waffle (how terribly appropriate) I think, “Ohhh, man, here we go. How long do I want us to talk?” And every time I’m asked, I find it does really require thought, something especially vivid now since Ingram’s is once again asking for votes for its renown “Best of Kansas City” awards next month.

It’s a hot contest, and sometimes—though I’ve never tallied the votes—it seems like the same restaurants get the awards every year. But this year, I say, we must stop waffling; we must strike for the difference. Remark upon the remarkable. Choose the choicest. Vote—it’s your duty! See page 23. Be your own food critic and answer the unavoidable question.

So, how do I answer the favorites question? Some of my votes are predictably traditional—because those restaurants stay consistently wonderful. The American—it’s where I go when I need it to be perfect. Or at newbie SORedux, where I have to admit I’ve had two of the best meals I’ve ever eaten, anywhere. And on a different level perhaps but with still remarkable food, Pot Pie on Westport Road is a place where I have never been disappointed.

Is there a category for a place that deserves more customers, deserves a waiting line? Poco’s Latin American Grille on 36th and Broadway—why more people do not go there I can only attribute to ignorance or that fatal fear of midtown.

In K.C. of course, I have to talk barbeque (and steak) and I cast my first vote to the place I take visitors as well: the gas station conversion called Oklahoma Joe’s. Eat in, take out, buy your gas or some liquor, do whatever but get the fries. Best steak place is more difficult for me—even the ‘chains’ do a great job here. But I go to The Plaza III first. . . even though Capital Grille’s calamari calls my name personally and demands I follow it with (one half) a rib-eye.

There’s so much more I could talk about for favorites. Our best hamburger (which you can order RARE!) at J. Alexander’s along with their fudge cake. The appetizers at Grand Street. The warm carrot cake at the Antique Mall at 87th and Mission Road. The gut-bulging weekend breakfast at RJ’s Bob-B-Que in Mission or the squash blossom quesadilla at Tienda Casa Paloma on Metcalf. The coconut cookies at The Mixx just off the Plaza. Lunch at Webster House or Cafe Sebastian or 40 Sardines.

Where do you like? What IS your favorite? Fill out your ballot and mail it to Ingram’s. And next time, I’ll tell you about crisp apple strudels and schnitzel with noodles.

No, really, I won’t. But we could have that conversation about favorite restaurants.