Meat Me in Kansas City (MO)

Last weekend I was in Kansas City for a barista competition, I will wait for you to Google that real fast.

Ok with what a barista competition is now? Great. This was my first trip to what I call “the for real Midwest” I think Chicago is a fantastic city, but only Midwest by it’s geographical location. Flying into the Kansas City Airport I had a few things blow my mind: I think I saw cows in the field next to the airport, there were maybe 10 cars at the curb pick up area outside baggage claim, and I had to pick up a yellow payphone that went to a live person at a taxi dispatch station who then sent a taxi to come get me at the curb. The city was full of sweet, smiling faces that held doors, and said good morning  and called me Ms. and Ma’am (even though it made me feel kind of old I really appreciated it).  While I was basking in the charm of KCMO I was not blending well, at the grocery store while mulling over Greek yogurt flavor options I was asked twice if I needed help and where I was from.  I lied and said Orange County and then proceeded to be a jerk to everyone, just kidding – maybe.

Fun Facts About Kansas City

  • The Kansas City Barbecue Society reports that KC has more barbecue restaurants per capita than any other city in the nation (Also The Kansas City Barbecue Society is a thing that exists, where I imagine a bunch of men sitting around talking about their meet and snickering)
  • The McDonalds Happy Meal was invented in Kansas City at the Bernstein-Rein ad agency
  • KC ignored Prohibition during the 1920s, leading to an abundance of jazz clubs, brothels and gambling halls. This earned KC the moniker “The Paris of the Plains” after one journalist wrote “If you want to see some sin, forget Paris and head to Kansas City.”

It is really the last bullet point we should focus on.  With that kind of history you can understand how it was nearly impossible for me to keep from imbibing in this city that laughs in the face of rules. Friends, Kansas City  knew I was weak and it courted me with sultry jazz music and moist meat slathered in sweet sweet BBQ sauce. Next thing I knew I was standing there: canned heat in my dance shoes and a drink in hand.

You will all be glad to know that the rules of moderation were not thrown out the window and the next morning was hangover free. It was a small stumble but I am now back up on the horse, and seriously counting the hours until February 1st. This weekend takes me to Seattle where I can not wait to celebrate the dawning of a new 30 day resolution at my  favorite wino hideout The Purple Cafe & Wine Bar.

*fun facts found here

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