Saturday morning flea markets flank the edges of Merriam Lane in Kansas City, Kan. The clusters and rows of simple tents and makeshift markets that fill the abandoned parking lots pave the road to Quick’s Bar-B-Q, where I’m headed. At one boarded up gas station a billboard hovers above the purveyors of Smurf toys and vintage clothes. It features a huge, well-seared steak reclining seductively on a platter. Next to it are the words “Why Space Aliens Steal Our Cows.”

I don’t know about space aliens, but I can think of better reasons than a mere steak to steal a cow. Brisket, for one, and smoky, crispy burnt ends wallowing in sauce. Barbecue. Kansas City is famous for it and I’m out to find some of the best. More importantly, I’m out to find amazing barbecue that isn’t from Gates or Arthur Bryant’s. Those places do serve good food, but they aren’t the only joints in town.

Kansas City is literally overflowing with options for a barbecue lover. The sheer number of restaurants can overwhelm even professionals. The Gastronomical Appreciation Society of BBQ, or GAS BBQ, is a group of faculty from Johnson County Community College and University of Kansas Edwards Campus that have been tasting and rating KC barbecue for more than five years. Many members also double as semi-professional barbecue judges. But even they don’t know everything. Founding member Dan Mueller remembers The Kansas City Star published a story about barbecue that included joints GAS had never heard of.

Once upon a time there was only one place to go for barbecue in Kansas City: Henry Perry’s. Perry started selling barbecue out of a pushcart in 1907, says Doug Worgul, author of The Grand Barbecue: A History of Places, Personalities, and Techniques of Kansas City Barbecue. Perry, and the entrepreneurs who followed him, created a unique style of barbecue in the city. Worgul says this style is actually an amalgamation of older barbecue styles from the Carolinas, Memphis and Texas, brought to Kansas City by freed slaves who followed the rivers and the railroads to new lives.

Today, the Kansas City flavor is based on three things: first, it uses a wide variety of meats, including pork, beef, sausage, chicken and turkey. Second, it’s topped with a sweet, tomato-based sauce often blended with molasses, unlike the vinegar and mustard-based sauces that predominate in other barbecue meccas. Third, Kansas City has burnt ends, those slightly crispy chunks from the pointed end of a brisket. Arthur Bryant started out giving them away; today they’re a best-seller and a Kansas City-only treat.

Inventing the burnt end is only part of why everyone knows Arthur Bryant. A lot of the Bryant mystique, and that of Gates’ as well, comes from their longevity. Both restaurants have been operating since the 1940s. Another reason is Calvin Trillin, a Kansas City-born journalist who wrote an article for the New Yorker in 1974 claiming that Bryant’s was the best restaurant in the world. Jerry Wolfskill, of GAS, says both restaurants became famous locally because of their proximity to the old downtown baseball park. If those weren’t enough reasons for fame, Worgul says Bryant’s can trace its history back to Henry Perry. Charlie Bryant, Arthur’s brother, managed one of Perry’s restaurants and branched off into his own business after Perry’s death.

Quick’s Bar-B-Q, 1007 Merriam Lane, is another example of a restaurant that splintered off from an older one. Ed McLain, manager, says his father, Earl Quick, started off working for Rosedale Barbecue, 600 Southwest Blvd., which Worgul says is probably Kansas City’s third oldest surviving joint, after Gates’ and Bryant’s. After 15 years as a manager at Rosedale, Earl opened up his own place down the street where he modified the recipes he’d learned to suit his own tastes.

That was in 1964. Today, Quick’s sits in a low, cement block building decorated with a mural of a beaming cartoon chef. Inside, plastic orange booths fill a wood-paneled room lined with hunting trophies, trinkets and framed clippings from food and travel magazines whose names sound out of sync with Quick’s homely comfort. “Mainly people hear about us by word of mouth and through magazines like Saveur,” McLain says. “We were in another story in Attach?, that’s one of those magazines they have on airplanes.”

McLain estimates that he cooks about 500 pounds of ribs and beef every day. His smoking oven is stained black from 40 years of burning hickory. But the old machinery is capable of turning raw pig and cow flesh into something wonderful. Quick’s ribs have a sweet, smoky black crust covering tender meat that falls from the bones. Smoked beef is piled thick on classic white bread. And the ham, oh the ham. Pink with a reddish sheen of sauce, it’s tangy and smooth like edible velour. The sides are just as good. The fries are coated with a little batter before they’re fried and come out golden, thick and crispy. The beans are cooked over the same hickory fire as the ribs. Each bite reveals a spicy, dark smoke flavor that sets them apart from your average camp-out staple.

Unsatisfied with the status quo, McLain is constantly scoping out other barbecue joints to get ideas and to test their food against his own. He’s been to dozens of places in Kansas City and other barbecue cities, such as Memphis. He hears about most of the places he visits by word of mouth, but he says there’s one sure-fire way to know by sight whether you’re getting good barbecue: check out the pile of wood. Make that a huge pile of wood. “If you see people with a small pile stacked out front, they probably aren’t really using it. They probably cook with gas,” he says. “It’s a good sign if they have a big pile out back.” The traditional barbecue man shuns restaurants that cook with gas. They sacrifice flavor for ease, and that’s the biggest sin a joint can make.

Bad barbecue is easy to pick out by sight in some cases. The members of GAS BBQ once came across a joint with a sign in the window that read, “Sorry folks, we’re out of spaghetti today.” That restaurant only earned a 3.2 out of 10 points, the lowest score they’ve ever given. However, GAS members aren’t as sure that it’s possible to pick out good barbecue by looking at the building alone.

“Some places that are a total dive have wonderful food,” Mary Jean Billingsly says. Dick Stine agrees with her. “Case in point, Laura’s,” he says. “I’m sure plenty of people would go by Laura’s and not go in just because of the way it looks.”

Stine is referring to Laura’s and Emmie’s Bar-B-Q N’ Stuff, 7445 Prospect Ave., and he’s right about the appearance. The restaurant is in an old gas station surrounded by vacant lots. Laura’s has bars on the windows. It has large dogs guarding the smoker out back. It has exposed wires leading to a precariously balanced window unit air conditioner. But Laura’s also has the damned-near best barbecue in Kansas City.

In the eight years it’s been open, Laura’s has served former mayor Emmanuel Cleaver, Miss Black USA and the band The OJs. It’s been featured in a segment GAS BBQ did for the Food Network and it now holds GAS’ highest rating, a 9.5. John Crawford, who owns Laura’s with his wife, Rose, loves the attention. “When somebody gives you a compliment it’s like they’re giving you a $50 bill,” he says. “That’s our inspiration. That’s what we do this for.”

The Crawfords also seem to take inspiration from their families. Laura and Emmy are John and Rose’s mothers and most of the recipes they use have been handed down to them, some through several generations. John started cooking barbecue by his grandmother’s side when he was six years old. “I was dragging a crate around behind me so I could be tall enough to reach the stove and stir the sauce for my grandmother,” he says. Another recipe the Crawfords use might go back even further. New customers at Laura’s and Emmy’s are treated to a teacake. These thick, fist-sized desserts are the color of a perfectly browned biscuit, spotted with dark freckles of nutmeg. They have a texture somewhere between a cake and a scone and are supremely delicious. Rose Crawford got the recipe from her grandmother so she always knew it was old. It wasn’t until the restaurant opened that she realized just how old it was. “I met this African man who used to come in here and I gave him one and he said, ‘ahh, I used to make these in Africa,’” she says. “He was 105 years old when he died, so this is a very old recipe.”

Seven different kinds of homemade sauces compliment Laura’s eclectic menu. Diners can top a savory, spice-encrusted wing of perfectly smoked chicken with the honey and spice sauce or dip bites of crispy, smoky, deep-fried pork chop in the bell pepper or extra spicy flavors. One of the best parts about Laura’s is the variety. “They aren’t locked into absolute things that barbecue has to be,” says GAS’ Dick Stine. You can find everything from deep-fried turkeys to ham-flecked collard greens to Rose Crawford’s 10-inch round, three-layer deep cakes on the menu. And better yet, it all tastes amazing.

I guessed food this good had to have won awards, but when I asked John Crawford about barbecue competitions, he said the only time they ever competed was at his hometown Labor Day festival. Barbecue judges who have eaten at Laura’s have tried to convince the Crawfords to enter their sauces, but John Crawford insists that he just doesn’t have the time. “I’ve wanted to enter the American Royal for years,” he says, referring to the massive barbecue cook-off that is held in Kansas City every September. “But we’re here nearly 24/7, we just don’t have time.”

It takes some deft juggling to take care of a restaurant and cover the barbecue competition circuit. Phil and Linda Hopkins have managed to make that tricky situation work. The Hopkins have been competing since 1997 and opened their restaurant, Smokin’ Guns, 1218 Swift Ave., about a year ago. Walking in the door of Smokin’ Guns, the first thing you see is a corner crammed with trophies whose heights range from ankle to armpit. Ribbons and certificates cover the walls, and behind the cash register, in a position of honor, is the banner proclaiming the Hopkins’ 1999 World Championship title from the Jack Daniel’s Invitational.

The menu at Smokin’ Guns is stripped down to the barbecue basics: sandwiches, ribs, burnt ends, half and quarter chickens. But the minimalism masks the expert handle the Hopkins have on their food. Baby back rib meat begs to slide off the bone and into your mouth and the brisket is covered with a dry rub of spices that leave the burnt ends with a peppery crust and a smoky, red interior. The baked beans are thicker than most and have a delicious, meaty flavor. The coleslaw is cut thick, with a sweet and sour tang.

The Hopkins continue to take their show on the road, competing across the country against teams with names such as The Porkitects and Smoke a Fat One for cash prizes and bragging rights. But competition isn’t so fierce that the different teams can’t get along. Phil Hopkins says half the fun of barbecue competitions is hanging out with friends from the circuit. In fact, Smokin’ Guns employs some of its contest competitors to help out at the store. On the day I visited, Phil Morrow, whose competition team AM + PM Smokers regularly comes up against Smokin’ Guns, was in the kitchen at the restaurant, trimming the briskets and patting an ample covering of secret spices onto the raw meat. The extra hands around the kitchen help the Hopkins maintain their hobby as well as their business.

Quick’s, Laura’s and Emmie’s and Smokin’ Guns are only a small number of the fabulous barbecue joints Kansas City has to offer. Gates and Bryant’s are great, but there is no reason to get stuck in a rut when people like John Crawford of Laura’s are waiting for you to put them to the test. “I dare ‘em to compare Gates with us,” Crawford says. “I dare ‘em. I really do.”

Check out www.gasbbq.net to see the Gastronomical Appreciation Society’s barbecue reviews.

GAS Best of KC

Best Beans-Fiorella’s Jack Stack in 13441 Holmes in Martin City, Mo.

Best Sandwich and Meat- Laura’s and Emmie’s BBQ n’ Stuff, 7445 Prospect in KC, Mo.

Best Ribs - Wabash, 646 S. Kansas Ave. in Excelsior Springs, Mo.

Best Fries - LC’s, 8611 Hauser Drive in Lenexa, Ks.

Best Sauce - Wabash