I was surprised at the efficiency of the place, especially since the Smorgasburg outpost makes a fetish out of inefficiency. The counter was fully staffed and there was none of the hipster dreaminess that can turn even the simplest transaction into a 5 minute Portlandia sketch.
Behind the counter at the start of the line stood a friendy bearded fellow whose only job seemed to be to explain the 7 meat choices to the novice BBQ customers. A sort of BBQ sommelier.
At the storefront outpost of Mighty Quinn's I had the brisket sandwich, a bigger version of the one they sell at Smorgasburg. The same one that can be obtained by waiting on a 30 minute line.
The storefront outpost of MQ has the tremendous advantage of allowing you to walk up and get your sandwich in about 4 minutes and then sit down like a civilized human and enjoy it with a beer. You don't have to wolf it down standing on a beerless sun blasted dust plain.
How was it? It was a nice sandwich but if David's pastrami or Mile End's smoked meat rate as 10s, this was a 6 or a 7 at best.
I wouldn't take this as a critical knock on Mighty Quinn, it's really a concession that I am fundamentally unable to appreciate BBQ. I am missing the BBQ gene. Too bad - it's my loss.
Shelby Foote once said that Gen. U.S. Grant was totally unable to appreciate music. He knew only 2 songs. One was "Yankee Doodle" and the other one wasn't. That summarizes my abilities to judge BBQ.
"I don't understand what's wrong with thinking of correlation as a pricing convention the way one thinks of Black-Scholes vol. I mean, vol curves aren't "real" anyway, but nobody uses local vol models to price vanilla options." - Taion
"But this is blatant ultracrepidarianism on my part." - Taion
I have a dream of a multiplicity of pastramis.
"once the penis came out, there was discussions as to why we didn't order the testicles" - Daniel describing a meal in China