Rural Texas barbecue hangs on
When news broke in late 2019 that New Zion Missionary Baptist Church’s Barbecue in Huntsville had closed, reverberations were felt far and wide among American barbecue aficionados. “Church BBQ,” as it was called, had been a cornerstone of rural Texas barbecue for over 50 years.
Then, Church BBQ was resurrected in 2020.
Tameka Edison, daughter of longtime pitmaster Clinton Edison, and her husband, Jerry Greathouse, reopened under the name Holy Smoke BBQ. Proceeds from the business still help support the New Zion Missionary Baptist Church next door.
Even with the continued growth of Huntsville proper — Holy Smoke BBQ is realistically described as more suburban now — the barbecue joint itself still retains the look, feel and menu of classic East Texas rural joints of the past.
Unfortunately, those classic rural barbecue joints are dwindling. Though there have been some examples of contemporary barbecue joints opening in rural settings, the majority of new places are choosing urban venues.
This barbecue migration from rural to urban milieus reflects population trends. Big metro areas such as Houston, AustinSan Antonio and Dallas-Fort Worth continue to expand. Newly minted restaurateurs are simply going where the people are.
Rural barbecue traditions are not completely lost, however. If you know where to go, you can still get a taste and feel of Texas barbecue of the past.
One stop would be Pat Gee’s Barbecue just outside Tyler. It’s important to classify rural joints as more or less rural. Sure, there are plenty of old-school barbecue joints along the state highways of Texas. But it’s pretty rare to find a place literally in the middle of a forest. Pat Gee’s is such a place, situated on a county road in a clearing of East Texas piney woods.
Encased in the weathered, unpainted planks of the same pine trees that surround it, Pat Gee’s is a low-slung shack that transfers visitors back to the earlier days of Texas barbecue. There’s a screen door where you enter, and screened openings in the walls that let in the breeze, such as it is, to the unair-conditioned dining room. You’ll also get a whiff of burning hickory wood from the attached pit room.
The dining room consists of long folding tables placed end to end. When Pat Gee’s is full with locals and regulars, be prepared to visit with your tablemates and be asked politely about where you’re from.
But first things first — step up to the counter and place your order with the cutter at the chopping block right in front of you. Then the thwack-thwackthwack of the meat cleaver hitting the decades-old wood block signals your order is being prepared.
Prices are more than reasonable. On a recent visit, a pound of sliced brisket was listed at $12.50. Considering most big-city joints are topping out at $30 per pound, you have to wonder what the secret is.
And come prepared to pay in cash — Pat Gee’s doesn’t take credit cards, and there’s no ATM in sight.
To be sure, the smoked meats you get at Pat Gee’s aren’t going to be included on any contemporary lists of the best barbecue in Texas. It’s an old-school joint serving old-school barbecue.
The pork ribs are thin and crispy, the sausage neon-red.
But oh, that cornbread. Crumble some into the accompanying ranch-style beans, drizzle on some sweet sauce, and you’ll get a taste of barbecue that transports you back to Texas’ rural past.