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Curtis All American Bar-B-Q -- A unique dining experience

© Brian Salisbury

As I weaved along the twisty, two-lane road through the Vermont woods, I caught the first tangy, smoky whiff of barbeque. I had been driving for more than six hours, covering nearly 300 miles along the back roads of New York and southern Vermont. My nose and taste buds told me I would reach my destination within a mile.

As I drew closer, the smell got stronger and stronger, better and better. Soon, I could see the smoke billowing through the trees.

Finally, I turned into the parking lot, found a roomy spot between two cars, turned off the engine and planted the motorcycle’s kickstand on a solid patch of gravel.

As I took off my jacket and looked around, the scene, as usual, fascinated me.

At the edge of this ten-acre grass and gravel-covered field, ringed by oak and maple trees, stand two turquoise blue school busses. Their days of mobility appear to be over, but the word is they still run. They constitute the action center of Curtis’ All American Bar-B-Q. “The 9th Wonder of the World,” as the sign out by Vermont Route 5 announces.

For 30 years or more, Curtis has been serving hungry travelers passing through the small town of Putney. Many of them, like me, go out of their way to stop here for lunch or dinner. Cars, motorcycles, vans and trucks from all over New England, and some from as far away as Pennsylvania, New Jersey and New York, fill the parking lot.

On this bright, fall day, about 30 people are lined up along side one of the busses to buy beef ribs, chicken, corn on the cob, bean and potato salad, drinks and other goodies. This is the only place I have been where the ears of corn are boiled inside their husks. Each diner shucks their own.

Behind the bus, under a corrugated iron roof, Curtis himself is busy roasting dozens of chickens and slabs of ribs over a massive grill. The smoke rises through the trees and permeates the surrounding countryside. More than one customer waiting on line says they smelled the chicken and ribs long before they arrived.

The remainder of the field is reminiscent of just about every American Legion picnic ground in rural America. Dozens of picnic tables sit under a 50-foot square roof supported by huge beams. Many other tables positioned around the field have wide umbrellas attached to shade patrons from the sun.