Texas Pride upholds tasty traditions

Gas station vibe, mesquite fuel Adkins favorite

If you’re riding on fumes looking for gas along the outer loop in Adkins, I have bad news: Texas Pride Barbecue doesn’t actually sell gas. The Sinclair oil signs, the service station awning, even the pumps — just a façade.

The good news is that behind the antique wonder wall, the Talanco family is smoking good barbecue in massive Southern Pride pits burning mesquite wood, the same way they’ve been doing it for 23 years.

Tony Talanco has been in the restaurant business even longer than that, opening and closing Tony’s Burgers in Castroville and El Mejor in San Antonio. But Texas Pride abides, with country music album covers, many of them autographed, sharing space on the wall with filling-station memorabilia and a showcase of George Strait artifacts.

The Talancos aren’t just passive music fans; Texas Pride hosts live music on the weekends on a massive backyard stage. This is a shop that can feed hundreds but does just fine one-on-one.

Grand champion: I like a barbecue place that appreciates the difference between fatty and lean brisket. The fatty end’s left in full-bodied splendor with a nicely rendered stripe of fat through the middle, while the lean has just enough of that amber to keep it from drying out. Both had a nice salt-and-pepper bark that billowed up in spots like crunchy black storm clouds.

Like all the meats here, it’s $15.99 a pound or $11.99 for a two-meat plate with two sides. And like all the meats, it’s wrapped in brown paper before it hits your plate, like a present. The trinity: Baby back ribs are the pork snacks of the barbecue world, dainty little things often glazed like lollipops. Not here. Rather than sectioning each little rib into its own coralcolored comma, the cutter left a few of them attached, giving them heft and substance reinforced by a shaggy spice rub.

“Homemade sausage” is a misnomer here. The links are made for Texas Pride but not by Texas Pride. But it’s properly smoked, juicy but not greasy under a firm casing.

More from the pit: When the chicken is this good, it’s never a criticism to say smoked chicken behaves like a rotisserie bird, gold-crusted and juicy rather than withered and dry. Can’t say the same for turkey breast.

The pulled pork was wetter than I like and left in pieces too big for the fat-bark-lean dance that makes pulled pork as much a lesson in texture as taste.

Sides: The sides ($2.19 a serving) are made in modest batches that keep them from drying out or getting sloppy. The mac and cheese was gooey and dense with crackled edges, all good things, and both the cheesy mashed potatoes and baconated German potato salad shared that robust texture. But the creamed corn was a work in progress, too soupy for its own good, a trait it shared with otherwise decent pinto beans. Sauce: I like a sauce that seems like it’s been fussed over all day long, like a fancy stock. The sauce here is good enough to eat like a soup, fortified with balsamic vinegar and onions. It’s one of the best in this series. The spicy version gets a bracing jolt of jalapeño juice. Maverick: Pecan pie and cobbler are the preferred desserts of bad barbecue gamblers.

They almost always lose. But Texas Pride beat the system by doubling down on pecan cobbler ($3.69). It’s as sticky as English toffee, nutty as a pecan log, and served hot and fresh in small batches finished on the smokers.