I’ve driven by the Rib Ranch for at least twenty years – it’s in a really awkward spot on Canton Highway, just east of I-75 that I am fairly certain that you cannot make a left into when heading east. Or a right out of when you’re leaving. There was a write-up about them in the July 2010 “barbecue issue” of Atlanta Magazine, which said that the main reason to go was for the banana pudding. On a Saturday afternoon in Kennesaw, I thought that I could go for some banana pudding.
It looks like someone’s idea of what a Texas barbecue joint might look like, once you find your way inside. You see, this place has one of the hardest to find doors that I’ve encountered. We were seated at one of the tables in the front room. I’d guess that this place would seat about two hundred, but at this late point in a Saturday, there weren’t many others there. My beloved ordered a barbecue chicken sandwich.
Thank goodness that the menu forewarned that the sandwiches were served with a pickle – I would have been shattered had my sandwich shown up with this monstrosity draped across it. The chicken was an interesting cut – cubed white meat, looking more like it was tossed in sauce as opposed to the meat having been cooked on the smoker. They have one house sauce, which is thin and about half tomato and half vinegar. They do have a hot sauce on the table, but it is in a Frank’s squeeze bottle and I’m fairly sure that was what it was.
I ordered a pork sandwich and the order of fries that we were going to split.
There was way too much bread in these buns – we both commented about it independently. I took the top of the sandwich on and, after the first bite, slathered on some of the house sauce plus Frank’s. Maybe I should have foregone my general rule of trying a pork sandwich first instead of relying on the ribs to gauge a place, as ribs are harder to do. But it wouldn’t take much to beat the sandwich. At least the fries were crispy. On to the banana pudding – we ordered one to split.
It was way below expectations. It had a few slices of banana and some wafers hidden in the pudding, but it was neither hot nor cold. And there was no sign of whipped cream.
To end on a positive note: they are open on Sunday. You can’t say that for many barbecue restaurants.
Next time, try the beef rib, something that Fred Flintstone would be proud of. It’s so big that you can split it with your beloved.
I think the rib would be the key. When it’s in the name, you ought to go with it, I think.