Where pigs don't fly, but my oh my

So I had today off, a reasonably common thing when you're working part time, I guess. The day was not idle, however. In fact I was on the road at lunchtime, not on the bike, alas. I had to take the car in for a new muffler, not an easy thing to do on a motorcycle. So anyway, I like to explore new places, and since it was lunchtime, I decided to find a place I hadn't eaten at yet. Newark has a surfeit of Chinese buffets, and I figured I could pig out at one (no reference to the title of this post). I didn't find any buffets, but "BBQ" caught the corner of my eye in a slightly seedy part of town, relieved mainly by a nearby Dairy Queen and the reasonably authentic tavern, A Piece of Ireland. I had just done BBQ a couple days back (see post below) so I pulled in. Comparison shopping and all that. It was Poppa Rays Sports Bar-B-Q, and even with a name like that, it was the best-looking place on the little strip mall. My first impression when I went in was dark but clean. My eyes adjusted, and the clean impression remained. It looked like a neighborhood family-run establishment, which turned out to be true. Several businessmen were having lunch at a couple tables, the bar was empty. I walked around and found a large separate room with at least a hundred dartboards, and one pool table.

So I plunked myself down and was greeted by a raven-haired beauty who did her best to make me feel welcome, mainly by knowing the menu and speaking intelligible English. And calling me Honey. (Disclaimer: I'm in my 60's, so anyone with raven hair gets called a beauty, and no one is as beautiful as my dear sweet wife, Valerie. Jack, imagine her (the waitress!) dressed any way you like.)

The BBQ choices aren't as varied as what's at Where Pigs Fly, but they have a good 30 choices of sauces, and several sounded interesting to my normally timid palate. On the waitress' recommendation I went with the half rack. I counted at least eight bones, so it was a rather large half rack—more like a two-thirds rack. Meaty and tender, too. Mild sauce with a hint of pepper. I passed on the combo ($40) that was said to feed six or more, and they had an interesting Saturday wings special for $25.

You never know what you'll find when you explore a place like this, and I got several surprises. CNN visited them once, mainly because of their championship dart talents. The owner, Mark, collects baseball cards. He has over a million of them, and every horizontal surface in the place is covered with them—all ones he has duplicates of. My waitress, Kathy, turned out to be Mark's mom. The whole family is from the midwest (Ohio), where they learned how to do meat right. Turns out they cater, including whole pigs. Maybe I'll have them do the pig at our next pig roast. That pig will spin, not fly.

Sorry I don't have a photo--it was too dark.