Kenny Rogers Roasters

Ask me about la mians or dim sum, nasi padangs or Thai food and I could provide you with a relatively sound review of what's hot or not. But the one popular (which cuts out Middle Eastern, Greek amongst others) cuisine that has escaped my radar is Barbeques.

Whenever I think of Southern roasts, Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird springs to mind. Imagine this- I actually felt hungry reading the descriptions of what Calpurnia prepared for the Finch children. You know, when I pass through the gantries of reincarnation and some guy in stainless bleached-white tunic asks me what I would like to return to Earth as, I would say "Big Momma." Reason being, I can load up of the cornbread, sizzling roasts and blistering grills, without having to worry a damn thing about my waistline.

Literal cause for concern, I would say.

Although there are many rotesseries around Singapore- Tony Romas, Country Manna just to name a couple, my chances of visiting them have largely been restricted to my dad's dislike for non-Asian food. As a result, on Monday my sister came down town to join me for lunch and we decided to visited Kenny Rogers Roasters (a first for me).

We had the Honey-Bourbon Barbecue Rib and chicken platter which consisted of a chicken quarter, half a rack honey-bourbon barbecue ribs, two sides and corn muffin

"Tender juicy ribs cooked to perfection in a Honey Bourbon BBQ sauce".

Going by instincts of my inexperienced tastbebuds, I guess the description off Kenny Roger's website is rather accurate- though I am unsure if the juciness is a result of commendable bbq-ing skills or over-generosity with the BBQ sauce. Although not much to begin with, the meat easily pryed away from the bone under the pressure of my knife.

Marinated chicken was wood fire roasted, which enables the fat to drain away. A bite of the chicken told me they should have left the fat in instead. Somehow the marinades failed to work its magic and I found the chicken unimpressively dry and bland. However, this is a classic case of 'one man's meat blah man's poison ' because Yang preferred the chicken while I relished the ribs.

Our two sides were Macaroni and Cheese and Steamed vegetables.

Cork screw macaroni suffered from heavy-handedness of super-rich cheddar cheese sauce. Within a few bites, I sensed the onslaught of a potential migraine but carbonara-lover Yang had little trouble finishing it.

Being the broccoli freak that I am, I turned my attention to the steamed vegetables instead. Unfortunately, my plans to live till a hundred (just kidding!) were thawarted by overcooking, which we all know leads to ANNIHILATION of ANTIOXIDANTS! *Sobs quietly in my custom-made-even-michael-does-not-have-it hypobaric oxygen chamber. Clearly, I need to invest my energy in more constructive purposes.

Overall, Kenny Rogers was perhaps more easily digestable than Cafe Cartel, which is so scandalously awful, it deserves a headline of its own in the tabloid columns. I should probably blogsurf around to find out more about places that serve spanking good ribs.