Barbecue—or Bar-B-Q, or BBQ, if you prefer—is a funny thing in Oklahoma: it’s not just the food and smoke you have to watch out for.
Take Swadley’s, for example. Their food is tolerable, but their loudly right-leaning evangelical political leanings—and penchant for grifting—ruins the meal, making it taste like leftover pig snouts.
Edge Craft, on the other, gives no indication to its allegiances other than an American flag and a few other decor items, making its excellent BBQ taste even better.
That’s why whenever I visit a local BBQ spot, I always make sure to look for weird signs, leaflets, literature, and comic-style tracts of caricatured politicians before declaring my love. It’s also why I was relieved to see that at Bedlam Bar-B-Q, 610 NE 50th St, the only nuts going here were the warring factions on the football field.
Well, at least that’s what I thought.
As the sun began to set, we ordered at the front of the house. I let the others go ahead of me, scanning the menu on the wall for the tastiest options. The clueless teenage guy took my girlfriend's and my order.
After a few minutes of conversation, and with apparently no appetizers available for my gastric foreplay, Bedlam went right to business with our main meals. Bring on the meat!
My girlfriend ordained the proceedings with the Rib Basket ($15.00) – a helping of well-season ribs served with two “Bedlam sides”— collard greens and Sriracha Honey Eggs—and a piece of Texas toast. It looked pretty good, I thought.
The ample ribs were smoked just right, falling somewhat off the bone. The sides, however, needed some improvement. The collard greens were drowned in some sort of deranged vinegar solution, and the sriracha honey eggs – although pleasing and edible – were a bit too much of a good thing, with the spice of the sriracha overpowering all other tastes.
Looking to sample all the meats in a compact way, I chose the Bedlam Sandwich ($14.00). Scooped mightily on a hamburger bun, it was composed of all the smoked meat you could possibly want in a sandwich: pork, chicken, brisket and hot links.
With a helping of the spicy Cowboy Beans, I enjoyed this carnivorous mélange into a world of shooshed-together meats. The sandwich held together very well, with the spicy hot links – sliced and diced all around – being my favorite part. I would get just that next time.
Although Bedlam frowns upon appetizers, they had plenty of desserts to choose from. One that caught my eye was the Buttermilk Pie ($5.00).
Served to me from the glass case under the register, it was fine, but the cling wrap stuck to the pie, causing me to lick the wrap erotically. Sorry, not sorry.
So, for the most part, Bedlam was pretty good. Not the best, but not bad at all… just like Oklahoma’s college football teams. (I kid, I kid.)
But, as we walked to my car while saying our goodbyes, I noticed a very large sign a few feet from the restaurant that read “RECALL COUNCIL PEOPLE TRYING TO MASK OKC!” with cartoon art of Dr. Fauci infecting people with his “imaginary” virus.
“Here we go again…” I said, with my embarrassed head lowered in complete shame, as the aftertaste of Bedlam BBQ soured in my mouth.
Cómpralo ya?
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Follow Louis Fowler on Instagram at @louisfowler78.
