Whole hawg time warp

After 42 years, the Bar-B-Barn still serves
some of the best ribs in town

by JOANNA FOX

One of the more prominent food trends in this city is comfort food served with panache. From gourmet burgers to mac and cheese, at least one down-home creation makes it onto the menus of Montreal’s more popular restaurants, with an upscale twist. If a blast from the past is what you’re after, with food that will take you back to memories of eating out with Mom and Dad, look no further than one of the most iconic and eerily unchanged places on offer: the Bar-B-Barn.

With their ballsy, self-appointed title of “best spareribs and chicken in the world” and a solid following of over two generations of devotees, this Barn is pretty special. If you can picture walking through that big, gaudy, brown and yellow door in 1967 into a cavern-like interior, then walking in there now is exactly the same—minus that thin stale layer of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. With three adjoining dinning rooms, plastic red and white checkered tablecloths and a dim yellow lighting that gives off a ’70s hue, it’s practically a time warp. Hanging on the walls, pictures showcase decades of sports stars reminiscent of the days when the Expos were heroes and hockey players didn’t wear helmets. Even the music playing in the background feels like a mixtape salvaged from my dad’s old Chevette.

The Barn menu doubles as a placemat and there is little doubt that the selection hasn’t changed much over the years: it’s chicken ($8.95–$14.65), ribs ($11.80–$25.80) or a combination of both ($18.80). There is also a seven vegetable salad, chicken on a bun, a chicken salad (possibly a recent low-carb addition) and sides of mashed potatoes, coleslaw and onion rings.

We started off with the seven-vegetable salad and it did, indeed, have the full seven vegetables (including the iconic iceberg lettuce, the leaf of choice right through the ’80s). Complemented by a plastic cup of thousand island-esque dressing, the salad was extremely fresh and a great palate-cleanser to segue into some serious eating.

My fellow diners ordered full rib plates whereas I went with the chicken-rib combo, all served with a side of rice in tomato sauce, a little challah bun and fries, or in the case of my friends, onion rings substitution. The chicken had moist juicy meat under brown crispy skin that could give any great Montreal rotisserie a run for their money. Dipped in the tangy sauce reminiscent of so many BBQ recipes past, this one had a little more zest that made it absolutely addictive.

And the best pork ribs in the world? Yeah, they’re pretty awesome. Lacquered in a sticky-sweet sauce that my friends agreed had some affiliation with Coca-Cola, the ribs were cooked to a perfect “toothsome” quality. They didn’t fall off the bone, an indication of rib cooking expertise. They’re not steamed here, but slow-cooked at a low temperature to achieve a perfect moist, generous meaty texture. Amazing.

The rippled fries weren’t as crispy as I would have liked and were only just warm, but the onion rings were a perfect two-bite size and had a soft-sweet interior. As for the rice, this was definitely the big loser of the sides and reminded me of Chef Boyardee in a bad way (if there ever was a good way). The coleslaw was also disappointing, tasted bland and, if anything, a bit old. The challah bun, something I remembered vividly from my childhood days, was only slightly warm and slightly fresh.

For dessert (yeah, went there too), we tried the homemade apple pie with vanilla ice cream, which came out warm, sprinkled in cinnamon and was thoroughly enjoyed by all, if anything for its old-school diner-like quality.

Sitting there in the dated darkness of the room, listening to Lionel Ritchie and flashing back to the days of road trips with my parents, it makes sense that this place is still around, if not for the entire kitsch experience, then for the thoroughly satisfying big-ass plate of world-famous ribs.