Portland hosts thousands upon thousands of transplants. I meet them everyday between my classes and work. We have only so many people who were not only conceived, but who were also born in Portland, OR. Like me.

And for those of you who have moved from God knows where, it’s important to know this one fact that you’ve probably already figured out: we’re a foodie city. We don’t just like food, but we really like good food. So coming in to Portland should wake you up and realize that you can get something much better than a Baconator for a couple of bucks.

Today I want to talk to you Portlanders about something called Barbeque. Barbeque is something God gave us in order to control the absurd population problem we seem to have. Every couple of days, I’m sure somebody dies because of the amount of Barbeque they ate in their short lifetime. Sure, the doctor calls it “heart failure” or “gastric inflammation,” but really you can trace it all back to the amount of pulled pork their body has had to deal with digesting.

We live in a fallen, sad world. We live in a world where Barbeque is killing us.

You see, Barbeque is a gift, and like every good gift, it must not be abused; it must be stewarded. With the amount of Pork America can get, and the amount of people who claim to have “the best BBQ sauce west of the Mississippi,” we need some regulation and some care. There are places all over this fare city where you can get truckloads of BBQ food for little money. But, c’mon, is that good stewardship of this fantastic gift?

Russell Street Barbeque stewards the gift of barbeque. They know what they’re doing. Not only is the restaurant itself very well kept and friendly, but the place knows good Barbeque.

Upon receiving your item, many people look at it and say, “That’s it?” But what they don’t know is that Russell St. BBQ knows exactly what they’re doing and their portions are the Houdini of BBQ.

I suggest giving their pulled pork sandwich a go. Not only is it classic, but the pork is tender and perfectly cooked. But don’t just bite in yet, take your life perusing the gourmet sauces that Russell St. makes themselves. The best thing to do is to get the fries and use your fries as tasting sticks. Taste each sauce carefully, and when you’ve tasted your glory (and oh, you’ll know…you. Will. Just. know) go ahead and lather that puppy (or piggy, I suppose) up and throw it in your mouth.

You won’t regret it. And by the time you’re done you will be satisfied. Let me say that you won’t feel the way you felt when leaving Planet Hollywood on that trip to Seattle; where the food was mediocre but you were TOTALLY STUFFED. No, no, no… at those places you feel filled, at a place that knows how to steward its resources of deliciousness, you will feel fulfilled. God bless you, Russell Street, for you have taken care of our gift of the barbeque.