The morning before I chowed down at the Smokin’ Joint, I participated in the Amazing LA Race.

I had anticipated a fiesty crowd of thousands, all pushing their way past each other towards the finish line, the severed heads of their competitors clutched firmly in their hands.

It ended up being about 39 bored kids.

Feeling like the well-meaning, active-for-their-age grandparents, we stood there while the salt and peppered, 2 steps away from gay Event Organizer gave us our esoteric instructions.

We were to scour the Hollywood Bowl for a packet with our team name on it, which would give us a clue to solve, leading us to the next LA landmark.

Easy enough.

After every other team had found their packet, we finally discovered ours (looking like it had been tossed around by a few eager rhinos) and headed to our next location.

We spent a very fun afternoon, neck and neck with two groups of smart (Asian) kids, roaming downtown LA.

After we finally finished (and I was pushed back by a cop because there was some anti-war demonstration on Hollywood BLVD) we had a few beers and some macaroni and cheese bites at the trendy bowling alley, Lucky Strike.

We were celebrating our third place medals! (We joked that the only reason we came in third, was because we had one Asian person on our team!)

Still hungry after our appetizer and buzzin’ from the beers, we headed to The Smokin’ Joint.

A tiny red flag raised when we arrived at an empty restaurant.

Thankfully, our fears were put to rest when we enjoyed some incredible baby back ribs (“Seared mammal flesh!” – Coneheads).

The Smokin’ Joint looks like an upscale gothic biker restaurant, if that makes any sense.

Very MTV’s Headbangers Ball! KISS music videos were playing on the flatscreen televisions surrounded by fancy picture frames, very cool.

The waitress was wearing daisy dukes and was super friendly*

*slutty

There was a lot going on with the beans, but they were still tasty.

These little cornbread nodules were also fantastic, accompanied by homemade honey butter.

The ribs. Hmm. How can I describe them and not put you to sleep? They were Effing perfect!!!

I’m pretty grossed out by fat. And I stripped each bone clean, like an animal. Yes, I was a cannibal and beaming with pride, face covered in bbq gore.

I always prefer to end my blogs on a humorous note. So here’s a joke you won’t soon forget:

Two peanuts walk into a rowdy bar….One was a salted…. (assaulted)

8486 W 3rd St
Los Angeles, CA 90048
(323) 655-7427
www.thesmokinjointbbq.com