If you think it might be fun to go to BBQn at the Autry...
Don't
If you think you're going to get to sample succulent pieces of freshly smoked chicken, tri-tip, or pork...
Don't
If you think that you won't be gouged for beverages...
Don't
If you...
Don't. Don't. Don't. Don't. Don't.
DON'T
(Thanks Edgar Wright!)
I hate to be negative here, but I just got back from BBQn at the Autry -- a local LA cookoff, and was so disappointed, I had to put an entry here.
First, you get there, pay your entrance fee ($9) and then are promptly informed that due to LA health code requirements, the 32 contestants of the cookoff will NOT be offering samples. WTF??? So, I'm supposed to inhale BBQ smoke and not get anything to eat? Well, there were two vendors that served food. Given that I wasn't about to fork over $5 for a hotdog I lined up at the LONG line for Silvio's Brazilian BBQ.
Talk about a clusterfuck! I ended up in line for over an hour and a half, and then they decide shortly before I'm at the front of the line that they're serving from two windows. So, until people started noticing, there were some people who actually got served in less than five minutes while others (like me) waited for an hour and a half. Whatever... I was so hungry by that time, I wasn't about to join the other people who started complaining and bitching and almost brawling.
I got a "Carnavale Plate" which was supposed to be 1/2 pound each of tri-tip, chicken, and calabresa with two sides, and bread. I didn't get any calabresa, and only got double serving of salads since they apparently ran out. Hmm... too bad they failed to mention it the substitutions to me. The chicken and beef were fine, but it wasn't a revelation or anything. It was filling, and tasty enough, and the entire staff did sing their version of "ole ole ole ole" (Y'know the Brazilian soccer anthem) as was promised on the menu.
All in all, I have to say that this is exactly what a cookoff/food festival should never be. I think this is akin to being in one of those states where you can get arrested for getting a hard-on during a lapdance. That is, be punished for being aroused by the tittilation being provided by the establishment. By the time they were announcing the winners, I just couldn't care less. I didn't taste any of the Q being judged, and it was getting really cold really fast. I got out of there about as fast as a rat off a sinking ship.
If you see a flyer next year, and think you should go to this... Just remember.
DON'T!
