I’m no barbecue snob. I don’t give a shit about barbecue
terroir (e.g., “the only REAL barbecue is the kind they
make in Knoxville/Kansas City/Lampasas”)—and yes, I can call it
“barbecue terroir” because reverse snobbery is still snobbery. But I do
have standards. When someone sells me meat that’s as sweet as a Jolly
Rancher and as tough as the bottom of my shoe, they lose the right to
call it barbecue.
The trouble is, that’s what passes for barbecue in most places in
Seattle. Not to name names (Jones), but Seattle has settled for so-so
‘cue for so long, it’s started to taste like the real thing. Sure,
there are a few standouts—the Carolina pulled pork at Roy’s in
Columbia City makes life worth living on a cold, rainy
afternoon—but those are the exceptions that prove the rule. To
get decent meat around here, you have to drive out of town, and who
wants to go to all that trouble for a plate of beans and ribs?
Enter King Creole—a tiny barbecue joint that not only does not
suck but is right in town, in a still-seedy-but-gentrifying part of the
Central District. (Plan to order to go or be prepared: The only seating
is along an awkward counter that faces out onto Cherry Street.) To gild
the lily, King Creole not only serves barbecue—brisket, hot
links, beef and pork ribs, and chicken—they’ll also sell you two
kinds of gumbo, one with chicken and andouille sausage ($10.95), and
one with shrimp and crab ($11.95).
My advice: Bring a friend, skip the somewhat lackluster sides, ask
for plenty of napkins, and share. The chicken gumbo
($10.95)—roux-thickened, served in a paper take-out
bowl—was an unusual deep green (shredded greens? okra?), its
broth so flavorful the chunks of spicy, earthy andouille sausage felt
almost superfluous. A brisket sandwich ($9.95, including two sides),
served on a mushy white bun (the optimal vehicle for the messy, spicy
meat), was the platonic ideal, the sandwich to which all brisket
sandwiches aspire: the meat so tender you could cut it with a plastic
spoon, neither greasy nor dry, and topped with just enough spicy
barbecue sauce to make it sloppy.
On a second visit, a friend and I stuck to the meat: barbecued ribs,
barbecued chicken, hot links, and another helping of brisket (two-meat
combo dinners are all $13.95). It’s no exaggeration to say the ribs
were the best I’ve had this side of the Colorado River. Smoky,
perfectly pink inside, and, yes, falling off the bone—as my
dining companion exclaimed excitedly, “I think you could actually chew
through these bones.” The hot links were handmade, spicy and unevenly
textured—nothing like the homogenous, hot-dog-consistency links
you get at the Oberto outlet store. And though I generally eschew
barbecued chicken (why buy the chicken when you can have the cow,
especially for the same price?), I found King Creole’s version a
revelation: juicy, thoroughly infused with smoke flavor, and covered
with just the right amount of that same spicy-sweet barbecue sauce. A
wing and drumstick were almost good enough to make me forget about the
ribs sitting next to them in their Styrofoam container.
A few gripes. First, the aforementioned sides: A Styrofoam tub of
coleslaw ($3.95) was bland and a little dry—the result, perhaps,
of sitting too long in an overchilled refrigerator. The baked beans
($3.95), meanwhile, were a sticky mess, drowning in a surfeit of
barbecue sauce. Second, a place that serves gumbo ought to have hot
sauce, preferably several varieties sitting out on the counter in a
recommissioned six-pack box for easy dousing. Third, the portions just
aren’t quite big enough to justify King Creole’s steep-ish prices: If
you’re going to sell me a bowl of gumbo for $11.95, it had better be
enough to fill me up. A 12-ounce take-out container doesn’t quite cut
it. Finally (if you’ll allow this Texan one tiny moment of barbecue
snobbery), barbecue should come with bread: white bread, for sopping up
the sauce.
But those are all minor kinks, hopefully to be worked out while King
Creole gets its operation up and running. According to the
owner—a charming former New Orleanian in a crisp white apron and
a jaunty chef’s hat—plans are in the works to open up the space
next door and expand the menu to include smothered pork chops,
smothered fish, and other Bayou specialties that make my mouth water
just typing them.
A lot of restaurants are opening in this tough economy, and many
won’t survive. With any luck, though, long live King Creole. 
“still-seedy-but-gentrifying part of the Central District” ??
you obviously don’t know seedy or don’t know the CD very well.
The bright green will be from gumbo file – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fil%C3%A9. It’s made from sassafras leaves, and it’s a thickener as well as a flavor.
I’ve run out of it, too, so I have to head into the states to look for some more.
“gumbo” is the word for okra, signifying the main ingredient of the dish. it’s not really gumbo unless okra is in it.
I made gumbo a few weeks ago here in Seattle. Finding fresh okra was no problem- Uwajamiya always has it. But finding file was impossible! I went to no less than four grocery stores looking for it before I finally gave up and went to my sister’s house. She has a large stock of it.
You just can’t have gumbo without file. It gives an essential aroma to the dish.
I have yet to eat decent BBQ in Seattle. I kind of doubt it exists at this point. I’ll give this place a try, Erica. The only halfway OK place I’ve experienced in Seattle is Home of Good BBQ, also in the CD.
And yes, I’m an admitted BBQ snob. (Lockhart is better than Lampasas.)
Gumbo is not the word for okra. And okra is the thickening agent in Creole gumbo only; the Cajuns use file powder. And never the two shall meet!
Not to get all bbq terroir on you, but the only people who give a shit about sides at a smoked meat establishment are non-southerners.
If the meat is good, they win. You don’t need 100 delightful accoutrements. Order more meat. I’m similarly skeptical like kitschnsync that Seattle’s ever going to get a great joint, but I’ll check this place out.
I lived in ther CD District and believe me, seedy’s not the word for it: cracktown is a better word for it. 23rd & Cherry’s the great shooting gallery of Seattle. I moved after someone attempted to shoot and kill our neighbor, Crackdaddy Rick and his bride, Charlotte the Unfit Mother.
this is in madrona.
if it were the CD, it would not be seedy. I walk my dog past here almost daily and it’s actually quite a nice part of the area.
Now, go 6 blocks west, and there ya have it.
There is nothing seeday about the Central District and with the exception of 22nd & Madsion. There has never been a seedy part of the CD. What made it seedy you saw Africian Americans catching the bus to work, mowing their lawns, taking their children to school. A pure racsit statement if you ask me.
I luv creole food, down south cooking is the best. we need more down south cuisine in seattle. there is too many asian food. ugghh, i want my gumbo & cornbread.
@kitschnsync
World Spice Merchants has file powder. I’ve bought it there before. I’d be careful using both file and okra though, your gumbo can get a bit “snotty”.
Stranger Commenters
Setting You Straight since Time Immemorial
For file, or almost any other spice, herb, tea: http://www.worldspice.com/spices/spices.shtml
i live at 21st and union. there are plenty of neighborhood people going about their business and i have no doubt that they get unfairly profiled by cops. most of them are very friendly and not sketchy. but there are also people selling crack on the corner on a regular basis, 40s and pipes left in our yard, people who walk up on my porch and ask me for change when i’m out with a friend who’s smoking a cigarette, kids trying to hide from the cops in our yard, guys making sleazy remarks about my backside as i walk by, etc.
Adam: ECB here. Bullshit about sides. As a gal from Meridian, Mississippi, I can tell you that coleslaw and potato salad matter.
If you think that particular corner is seedy, you really need to get out more often.
Plus size player you’re an idiot. I’ve got crackheads, hookers and gang members all the fuck over the place. that makes it seedy, not black people mowing their lawns for christs sake.
“still-seedy-but-gentrifying part of the Central District” I’d take offense at that except this restaurant is in Madrona
arbeck,
No worries, I use okra for thickening and only finish with file for flavor and aroma. Since I’m not a big fan of roux, I use LOTS of okra. Love it.
Thanks for the tip on World Spice Merchants! 🙂
yeah, I guess down there in Columbia CIty with the hipster caucasian parents its not at all seedy. I’ve been walking to this joint for three weeks, and the review of the food is pretty much spot on. A little pricey as it is not a hip outpost like CC or CH, but still decent for the money. Skip the sides of course, get the combos. And admit that the intersection of 23 and Cherry (Madrona’s westernmost border) scares you and deal. Go up Union/34th if you are that wigged out.
Just whacked down some take out (beef brisket & ribs). THe brisket was tender as can be and the portion was hearty. Ribs were top notch too but if i had to choose one i would go with the brisket. SHRIMP PO BOY ($10.95) is a new item (selling like hotcakes according to the staff) that is not on the online menu. Looking forward to a return visit where I will go cajun style: shrimp po boy and gumbo. OTHER UPSIDES: quick take out, friendly staff, and easy parking on safe section of Cherry (madrona side). Check it out – keep this place in business!
Seattle sets a low bar on “seedy.” I have a friend who lives half a block from this place, and it’s not seedy at all.
I ate there a month ago and had a totally different (unfavorable) impression of my meal. Apparently I was wrong.
FYI – If you are not in the mood for BBQ there are 5 ETHIOPIAN restaurants within a 2 block radius of King Creole and don’t forget about CATFISH CORNER (MLK & Cherry) for some fried fish. The TERIYAKI joint across the street from Grocery Outlet (on MLK just south of Union) is good no frills eating too.
went there the day after I read the post. Easy to find, nice people working there. Food is quite expensive for what you get (I got the meat combo). Wish I only got the chicken & ribs =[. Next time i suppose…
Smokin Pete’s in Ballard/Crown Hill has very good bbq
first off to the above comment – gumbo does mean okra, and its roots are in an african language. and the reason you might not, but you can use gumbo and file together is that they are both thickening agents – and my grandma and plently of others i know do use both. now to the restaurant –
this place rocks! they serve the best gumbo i’ve had in a restaurant outside of louisiana period! (or should i say exclamation point?) my only knock was the amount of heat, and it was probably purposefully tamed because of the seattle palate. I had the bbq ribs and the chicken recommended by the article and i must say those ribs were spectacular! the sauce is a perfect balance of sugar and spice and the food came soaked in it. the chicken was a little dry, but still tender and excellent.
i also had some great southern potato salad and some bbq baked beans. i prefer my baked beans without bbq sauce but since the sauce was so good i stuffed em down without complaint. the writer was correct about the need for bunny bread to soak up the sauce too! keep up the excellent work King Creole – and if Kingfish Cafe is reading, please go and see how gumbo should be made!
Way to go Kinzie! It sounds like you”re giving them some NAWLINS FLAVOR (O: I wish you all the luck.
Much Luv
Your sista in law Tanya Hurst (Joe’s wife)
Transplant: Hey, I feel your pain! I used to live at 18th and Alder: Bang! Bang! Bang! Boom! Police helicopters overhead day and night!
Thank god, I moved out of that crack hole. I lived in Seattle from 1990-2001 and never had “real” barbecue. I always settled for Tony Roma’s. Now that I live in Atlanta, GA I have many more barbecue places to visit.
Most places here in Atlanta, GA don’t do sides very well, either. The ubiquitous macaroni & cheese, the collard greens, the coleslaw… all rather “blechhh!”. Oh, but give me some good peach cobbler and I’m happy. Too bad someone can’t invent a diabetic version of peach cobbler and have it be as tasty as the bad-for-you kind! Ditch all the sides and just go for the ‘cue.