My Old Kentucky Fever

http://www.bbqfest.com/

The International Barbeque Festival in Owensboro, Kentucky is a bit of a boast. It is not International, for I didn't see anyone, let alone participants, from out of the country. In fact, it wasn't even nationwide: no one from Texas, no one from Kansas. It wasn't regional US...no one even from Tennessee, right next door. It wasn't even STATEWIDE...hell, it wasn't even COUNTYWIDE. The International Barbeque Festival is, in the end, a contest between about 10 different Catholic Churches in the area to see who has the best barbeque, as they see it anyway.
Yes, Catholic. Just like the name that Owensboro has bestowed upon itself, "The BBQ Capital of the World", the title has no basis in actuality...they just took the name and ran with it.

Glad I got that out of the way.

Also, they don't tell you on their website or in any of the articles on The Interenational Barbeque Festival, but first of all, they don't actually serve the barbeque itself until Sunday at 2:00pm...they serve every fried festival food imaginable, but apparently you have to wait for the real goods. You can get pork sandwiches, which is meant to tide you over. But if you, say, fly in from California, with the hope of gorging yourself silly on BBQ first thing Saturday morning, forget it.

Second, BBQ in the region isn't what most people in the country think of BBQ. When I think BBQ, I think SAUCE...or rather SAAWWWWWCE. Without a thick, tasty, molassassy sauce, its just grilling. The Owensboro BBQ centers on Mutton as its meat of choice, followed distantly by Pork. Beef and Chicken are nowhere in site on their grills. Then, the sauce, or seasoning really, is sort of like soy sauce...vinegary and salty. Not to my taste, but more imporantly...not what the US population at large thinks of as the BBQ flava.

Aside from that, I enjoyed myself. Kentucky is beautiful and the people are kind and generous.

Glad I got that out of the way, too. Now onto the pictures:

The first thing I see off the plane. Fascinating.

The bridge to wonderland: Indiana.

See?

Amish? Here?

Indeed, yes.

But of course. The Amish Restaurant has a drive thru window.

Good (?) Eatins. Amish food was hearty bland food. I'll not be knocking on the doors of another Amish restaurant any time soon, I'll tell you what.

The fun part of the Amish place.

My Hotel in Ownesboro. It was nice enough. http://www.executiveinnrivermont.com/

They set up a carnival to cash in on the wild spending money at the Barbeque Fest. The first night for neighborhood peoples.

The middle inside of the hotel is hollowed out into a grand atrium. Down below in the pink neon glow is a modern country radio station. Yes. The little corner.

Purty lights.

I didn't even see this guy until I got home. He reminds me of someone....who could it be?
Oh yeah. That's him.

Your choice, this beautiful living creature or a plastic doll made oversees at 25 cents per dozen.

Kids game with in appropriate winnings.

Slightly distubing.

Slightly disturbing, part two.

More that slightly disturbing! Oh, wait, no...they just leave it up 364 days in addition to halloween.

The true slaughter awaits! Yummmmmm.....meaaaaat.

Not so crowded this morning of Friday.

My first taste of burgoo and first taste of their version of a bbq pork sandwich.

I declare it: delicious! The burgoo was kinda watery, but it tasted good. The pork sandwich was a pork sandwich, and that's not bad.

Many people seemed to have a strange idea of what to sell for food at bbq fest. Here's some greek food. As ya read above, the real bbq doesn't get served until Saturday 2:00pm. So the joke was on me. I broke down later and had a gyro. Then the joke really was on me, cause it tasted like crap.

And he's already started collecting little garbage bags on his feet!

This nice lady has just sold me some fried coca cola.

The first few bites were intriguing, but there wasn't any way I could finish it. Fried Fry, with Coca cola syrup. And whip cream.
Wish I saw the fried oreo cookie on the sign earlier (yep, see above a few pictures).
The Bluegrass Museum. I'd thought it would be a lil more down home and folksy. But the country folk will make do. Yes they will.

The counter stand has cool legs at the museum.

Sleepy Marine.

They took him down before the crowds came. Off for a nice nap.

The hotel internet.

I did not eat here.

Famous in 3 states. Ya gotta go to the Moonlite.

Um....um...so many, many choices.

I tried the Moonlite burgoo. It was thicker and came with cornbread. Advantage: Moonlite.

Western Kentucky was sure pretty. Very green, lotsa trees and rolling green hills. This is one of many picturesque barns along the road.



Yes, that's it. They renovated it just a few years ago.

My rental car. Plus a country hound down the road.



This was Farmer Bill giving the tour. Nice guy.



Here's Farmer Bill again. He was whittling that stick when I pulled up. First visitor in a coupla days. I'm astounded it gets so few visitors. When I landed in Louisville, I got some bluegrass music on the radio, but it was a fluke. There are no bluegrass stations in the area, or even roots stations. Folks have to settle for the weekend NPR specials. In the bay area here in California, we have the great KPIG (www.kpig.com). Isn't there some wealthy Kentuckian who can set up a pure bluegrass station in the bluegrass state? I'm asking is all.

Bill was one of the coolest things about the entire trip. A class act through and through.

The Grass is not Blue in Color, but in Spirit.

Back to the meat.

I took a few minutes at the little miss pageant, then got the hell outta there.

This is what everyone was waiting 2 days for and what I flew 1500 miles for. It was just okay. Sorry. But there it is. Berkeley's Everett and Jones on SAn Pablo has the best BBQ I've ever had. But that's just me. http://www.super-que.com/.
There is no sawwce to speak of in Owensboro.




I stayed at the Hatfield Inn. The owner is a relation. Evidently they made up with the McCoys and they have picnics together now. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hatfields_and_mccoys


Most of the pictures at Mammoth Caves didn't turn out. Thems the breaks.

















Operation Grand Slam: Fort Knox itself.
It was much smaller in person....all the gold is down below apparently. You can get pretty darn close to the Fort, they just won't let you take pictures that close.
I stopped on the unbusy onramp to get this one.

Churchill Downs.

The 1st race was slower than I thought it would be.

This is where the riff raff stood at the Kentucky Derby...one week before I got there.

Mint Julip and Pizza. Can't get anymore Kentucky than that.
I celebrated my amazing winning strategy and indulged. In the end, including my expenditures, I broke even.

Mr. Cigar Guy.

Indeed. Cazart! Mahalo.