On the outside
How to judge a barbecue joint by its cover.
The holy grail for any barbecue explorer is to drive through a small Texas town and find an obscure, unknown joint that makes great barbecue. In today’s social-media-fueled world, that’s becoming harder and harder to do.
But that doesn’t stop the inveterate explorer, myself included. It is mostly a quixotic search — you know that all the best places have been documented, but maybe, just maybe, there’s another one out there waiting to be found. It’s about the journey and not the destination.
So any trip across Texas becomes a series of detours. Driving to Austin? Don’t bother with U.S. 290. Take Texas 71 north from Interstate 10. This stretch of Texas backcountry is known for small, unknown barbecue joints popping up on weekends like thunderstorms popping up on sultry summer afternoons.
Still, how do you know when you should stop and when you should keep going? How can you improve your chances of finding great barbecue?
The first clue, of course, is appearance. Is it a rundown barbecue shack, a small trailer, a slick new restaurant or just some guy cooking barbecue on the side of the road?
The hard reality: If it looks like a down-atthe-heels shack, in all probability the barbecue is not very good. This is counter to every instinct we have as Texans and barbecue fans. Shouldn’t those old-fashioned, weather-beaten, bluecollar places make the best barbecue? Alas, they usually do not.
Taking Texas 71, I used to stop at a place called Gil’s Bar-B-Que Shack just north of Columbus. It was a shack both in name and appearance. Gil and Mary Vrazel ran the place on the weekends. The pit room in the back, which looked to be about 50 years old, was a true Texas treasure. The old steel barbecue pits produced, well, just pretty good barbecue (the sausage was great). The Vrazels have since retired and closed the place.
Today, for better or worse, the best Texas barbecue comes from comfortable, contemporary and usually air-conditioned restaurants. Consider Franklin Barbecue in Austin, Pecan Lodge in Dallas and Killen’s Barbecue in Pearland.
There are a couple of other things to look out for — rather, sniff for — when judging a barbecue joint by its cover. Every great barbecue joint I’ve ever visited retains the fragrance of burning wood either inside or out. This may seem obvious, but it is only after eating middling barbecue at a new place that I realize there is no smell of smoke anywhere to be found.
Similarly, a quick visit around the back of the joint will often reveal what type of pit is used. Trailer-mounted barrel smokers are a good sign. A shed filled with all-gas automated smokers is not.
You also can check for a wood pile near the smoker. Is the establishment using post oak, pecan or mesquite? I once visited a place (that shall remain unnamed) that had a pile of two-by-fours sitting next to the smoker. I never went back.
And if you’re poking around, take a peek at the joint’s outdoor trash area. Empty brisket boxes will often be piled up, and you’ll see where the business sources its brisket. Packaging from a producer such as Creekstone is a good sign, Walmart is not.
Finally, in all my years of exploring, I’ve never been to a great barbecue joint that featured a drivethrough window. There’s just something about combining fast food with barbecue that is counter to Texas tradition. I never want to order a plate of smoked meats and be asked, “Do you want fries with that?”