These ribs are real

One of the reasons why I think Big Daddy Jay’s is a favorite right off the bat is the in-your-face, unapologetic scent of barbecue that makes the residential area where it’s at even more homey. It’s a welcome respite, a stone’s throw away from Cubao’s busy thoroughfare.

Barbecue carries with it a universal appeal for good reason: it’s simple, delicious and is almost always associated with family, friends or festivities.
 photo file_zps5d4baf68.jpg

The resto’s facade is surprisingly familiar. There’s a roadside barbecue stand back home that uses the same tactic of temptation to lure anyone with a nose to do a double take. Growing up, I’d have barbecue from that stand at least once a week. It’s still there and it’s an institution in itself. That’s how good it is.

I’d like to believe Big Daddy Jay’s is destined for a similar kind of following if by some strange reason it hasn’t happened yet. When I arrived, I was greeted by the smell of ribs over a spartan grill and a flaming red smoker, true to form without shortcuts. The fact that it started out as a stall in a weekend food market and has grown into a cozy little restaurant makes it a good success story. They try to keep the recipe within the family. Jay, the “big daddy”, is actually the American brother in-law of one of the owners. The smoked ribs served to us is his own recipe, and even before they started putting it out there, he’s already been feeding the family with lip smacking pork ribs.
 photo file_zpsd6d6497a.jpg
 photo file_zps150330b5.jpg
 photo file_zpsc234d570.jpg

Their specialty, treated with authentic southern American comfort, is a winner. I won’t beat around the bush: it’s really really good.
 photo file_zpsaaed3fce.jpg
 photo file_zps94d9249c.jpg

There’s no other way to put it. The ribs were treated with love. Meticulous love that goes the extra mile. I’m not exaggerating. The ribs were spiced rubbed twice before being smoked (using locally sourced wood chips) at a really low temperature for a few hours. What that achieves is a slab of tenderness that yields effortlessly to the light pressure of knife. How’s that for a hallelujah?
 photo file_zps983d66a9.jpg
 photo file_zps7213622f.jpg

It was served with a side of buttered rice. To be fair I never count calories when I eat. There were two dishes served as well, including deep fried chicken wings done two ways (buffalo and honey mustard) and a pasta dish that was good but not really spectacular. But the real star were the ribs.
 photo file_zpsd1459d27.jpg

People (and by that I mean Yedy and Eugene) told me the photos I take where everything’s blurred are pretty good. I’ll take that as a really great compliment and an impetus to add more of that here. I’m not sure if it’s really art or maybe just a shoddy semblance but either way I’m sticking with it. Here’s a parting shot of Mr. and Mrs. Pickiest Eater with the little one. I like it, and what I did was probably a disservice to them since they’re a good-looking couple but hey, it’s art y’all.
 photo file_zpsa922ce9f.jpg

5 thoughts on “These ribs are real

  1. Those ribs look and sound great. When I started reading this, I was wondering how authentic it would be. A meal from the south halfway served halfway across the worlds. It looks they are.

    What’s different, though are the sides. Don’t know if I’ve ever seen buttered rice or pasta. Also, you sliced them nice and neat with a fork and knife. That’s a little too formal.😉 hope I dug in and got sauce and grease all over your face and hands.

    • The pasta was experimental while the rice was brought out to suit our penchant for meals with rice, which really works! Yeah, it would have been a treat to get our hands dirty but it was a tasting event and we were taking photos while eating. If I get a chance to go back I’d definitely forgo all table manners. haha!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s