Phil's BBQ - San Diego, CA

Let me be the first to say that I am a somewhat recovering dickhead foodie. Which is to say that I am always a dickhead foodie, and I'm neither proud nor ashamed of that fact, but I am learning that sometimes you need to reframe a dining experience in order to be able to enjoy and appreciate it on its own merits, rather than as against your own subjective hifalutin POV, and calibrate your expectations accordingly. 

That said, Phil’s BBQ, by all indications but the many glowing yelp reviews that have earned it 4.5 stars, is exactly the kind of place a dickhead foodie like me avoids like The Plague. Blaring (blues) music, glaring red fluorescent signs, theme-y decor, more than one location - you know - one of those concepts.

But sometimes you go to a place against your own strong intuition that you won’t like it because you think there’s no way that many people could love a thing without there being a good chance that you’ll at least like it a little. A been there, done that, if you will. Something you’re pretty sure you’re not going to like at all, but need to have experienced to arrest any lingering doubts you might have that you really can’t trust your own nose to guide your belly. Someplace you figure you might as well visit because you’re running errands just down the street from it, and you’ll probably not find yourself down that way again, and, well, there are all these other San Diegans who seem not to mind making the drive to that hood just to eat there...

Well slap my ass and call me Sally for once again not listening to that very loud inner voice that said, “Don’t do it, Shinae. They call themselves a BBQ joint and they don’t even have the big pig ribs. And they’re playing lots of loud music that only drunk white people dance to. And a bunch of other San Diegans love it...” (See? I told you I’m a dickhead somethingorother...)

An odd five spice note to the rub and/or sauce that made me think of pho while I was sinking my teeth into ribs and chicken that were swimming in cloyingly sweet and uncomfortably tart sauce. Greasy (as in even greasier than deep fried things should be) onion rings. Unremarkable sides. To my palate, that is.

Been there, done that. 

That just means more Phil’s for the rest of San Diego! :D

Dean will have to compensate for this one by making me some ribs sometime in the very near future.

PHIL'S BBQ
3750 Sports Arena Blvd
San Diego, CA 92110
(619) 226-6333
www.philsbbq.net