City Barbeque — Restaurant in Union Township

I have a bone to pick with you. For several years I have ordered a City Barbeque ham for a family Easter gathering. They were delicious in the past, but I feel totally ripped off now. A few weeks in advance, I called in an order to their call center and scheduled a pickup from the Eastgate location. When I arrived and looked at the ham, I was shocked to see it was boneless and that it was miniscule – weighing in at only 6 lb. 6oz. How was I going to feed my family gathering of 24 with this? They say their ham, without ever disclosing the weight, feeds 20 – 24 people. Honey Baked Ham says their 7 lb. boneless ham feeds 10 to 14. I guess you can say it feeds 50 if there is no accounting for a per-person portion. We should all be more weight conscience anyway.

In a panic, I asked for another ham, but they were sold out. Time to make another call to the call center and order a second ham (another $100, ka-ching) and headed to the Blue Ash location for this ham. It weighed in at 8lb 10oz. What?? Now just how badly did I and all the other City BBQ ham-buyers get ripped off here? To make the math simple, this is 102 oz. vs. 138 oz. of meat – for the same price! I paid $11.59 per pound for the “larger” ham, and $15.69 per pound for the dinky ham, all without any say in the matter. Here’s your ham sir, have a nice day – wink.

They don’t tell you what it weighs when you pick it up, you must ask them to put it on the scale. They are taking advantage of consumers by charging them full price and selling them a product that varies, in my case, by at least 35%. Is it possible I bought both the smallest and largest ham they sell? The odds would say probably not – meaning that there may have been even smaller and larger hams sold – all for the same $100 price. Did the variation go as high as 50% or more?

If you’ve watched them make a sandwich for you, they weigh the meat. They know they must control what goes out the door and manage consistency. But when it comes to selling ham they charge by the ham, not by the pound. Oh, yes – I’m happy to pre-pay in full for something that I have no idea of how much it weighs. The 6 pounder is like paying for a whole beef tenderloin, but you’re getting the hind leg of a pig.

Smithfield, the largest pork producer in the US, sells their hams by the pound through Sam’s, Kroger, Walmart and more. Don’t get screwed here, buy your ham somewhere where they charge you by the pound.

Finally, the call center did not inform me that their ham is now boneless. Bone-in ham is so much more delicious and moister, benefiting from the flavor the bone and connective tissue provides to the meat. And keeping the bone for making soup is one of the benefits of having ham in the first place. Ironic that the heating and carving instructions they provided me are for a bone-in ham. How is it I got so screwed and didn’t even get a bone?

About the reheating – the instructions say to reheat inside the roasting bag. Both hams came in a bag and a foil roasting pan. The larger ham reheated fine inside the bag, someone screwed up big time with the other bag since it melted all over the ham. It was not a roasting bag, imagine how much toxic chemical exposure the melted bag provided to my family.

I wonder if they will suggest I contact their corporate office through their online contact form. That seems wonderfully...

Alright, buckle up buttercups, because we're about to embark on a culinary rollercoaster that involves the smoky embrace of City BBQ and the regal service of Queen Anna. My stomach is still recovering, and my vocabulary might be a little…flavored. First stop: City BBQ. Oh, City BBQ, you glorious bastion of smoked meats. Walking in there is like getting a warm, hickory-infused hug from a friendly giant. The aroma alone could probably solve most of the world's problems (except maybe that one sock that always goes missing in the dryer). I went for the brisket, because when in Rome…or rather, when in a place that smells like a lumberjack's campfire, you get the beef. And let me tell you, this brisket was so tender, it practically whispered sweet nothings as I devoured it. It was like a velvet explosion of smoky, savory goodness in my mouth. I think I actually shed a tear of pure, unadulterated meat joy. The sides? Oh, the sides! The mac and cheese was creamy enough to make a baby unicorn jealous, and the collard greens tasted like they were cooked by a sweet Southern grandma who also happens to be a black belt in flavor. My only complaint? I think I might need a second mortgage to afford the sheer volume of food I wanted to order. My eyes were definitely bigger than my stomach, but my heart? My heart was full of BBQ bliss. Now, let's pivot, shall we, to the elegant reign of Queen Anna. Stepping into Queen Anna is like teleporting to a chic Parisian cafe, except instead of berets and existential angst, you get the most delightful pastries and coffee that could wake the dead (and probably make them ask for a second cup). I indulged in their signature almond croissant, and folks, it was a religious experience. The flaky layers shattered with the slightest touch, releasing a buttery, nutty aroma that sent my senses into overdrive. It was the kind of croissant that makes you close your eyes and contemplate the meaning of life, or at least the meaning of why you haven't eaten one of these sooner. And the coffee? Smooth, rich, and strong enough to power a small nation. The staff were also incredibly lovely, making me feel like royalty even though the most majestic thing about me at that moment was the smear of almond filling on my cheek. The juxtaposition of these two establishments is truly a beautiful thing. It's like a culinary yin and yang. You've got the down-home, finger-licking goodness of City BBQ, where napkins are a necessity and polite conversation takes a backseat to enthusiastic chewing. And then you have the refined elegance of Queen Anna, where delicate pastries are savored and you feel the urge to speak in a hushed, sophisticated tone (until you inevitably inhale a crumb and cough dramatically). In conclusion, my recent gastronomic adventure to City BBQ and Queen Anna was a resounding success. I left City BBQ feeling like I could wrestle a bear (a very well-marinated bear), and I exited Queen Anna feeling like I should be sipping tea with a pinky extended. If you're ever in the area and your taste buds are feeling adventurous, I highly recommend this delightful duo. Just be sure to wear stretchy pants and maybe bring a bib for City BBQ. You'll thank me later. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I need a nap…and maybe just one more...

This is a COVID era review. All staff were masked, masks were required for customers, and seating capacity was limited.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I had once vowed never to eat barbecue outside of Memphis, TN, my home town. Memphis barbecue has no equal anywhere. It is the standard by which to measure all other barbecue.

That being said, I was reluctant to try City Barbeque. The draw was the tantalizing charcoal aroma from nearby, and the promise that the meat has been slow cooked for eighteen hours. The meat itself was appropriately smoky and dense, yielding a delicious meat with good charcoal flavor. The sauce comes on the side in a range from sweet to hot. It tastes like it has molasses in it, with a dark color and deep caramel sweetness. There is just a bit of heat in the hot sauce, and additional hot sauce is available. The fries were unremarkable. They were the same degree of softness throughout, with no crunch or crispness on the outside. One of the sides offered is hush puppies, balls of cornbread quick fried. They had the architecture the fries needed: a crisp outside and inner moistness. I ordered the vinegar slaw side, quite frankly, because I didn't know if the sandwich came with slaw on meat. Slaw on the sandwich is the correct way to make a barbecue sandwich (fight me). The sandwich did come with a creamy slaw, perfectly complementing the meat and sauce. But the first bite of the vinegar slaw side was all tasteless cabbage. Once stirred, a nice vinegary sweetness came through, with bits of carrots, onions, and green peppers throughout. This just tells me the dish was staged, which is not unforgivable, of course, but maybe a shake or stir before serving would be in order. The banana pudding, a must have when eating a barbecue sandwich, had the bright yellow color and and imitation banana taste of instant banana pudding. There was enough fresh banana, vanilla wafer, light caramel sauce, and thick whipped cream topping to detract from it, but not to eliminate it.

Everything came to the table on a large aluminum tray. Everything was served on a thin brown paper, while the fries with ketchup and the sandwich with sauce needed something sturdier. A fountain drink station offered Pepsi products, and there was sweet and unsweet tea, as well as lemonade, in separate dispensers. The sweet tea was only just sweet. It's not that strong.

Honestly, this was as close to Memphis barbecue as I have come across in a long time. City Barbecue deserves kudos for that. For me it was a nostalgic visit that I look forward to repeating often.

UPDATE: As stated above, I've been back several times. It's my go to place for barbecue in the Queen City area. Frankly, I haven't tried anywhere else. Meat is good, all the above still stands. There have been a couple of service hiccups, but they are ready to make things right. Love...