GaYellowDawg's guide to good Southern barbeque

[GaYellowDawg]

You want a good barbeque experience? There's one very simple axiom that will give your taste buds dividends just about every time:

The quality of the barbeque and the quality of the premises are usually inversely proportional.

Seriously. If you see a nice barbeque place in the South that is made of brick and has a very professional-looking sign on it, and looks like a restaurant instead of a converted house/shed, keep driving. You might as well get a McRib. The exception to this is, if it looks like a converted steakhouse, then risk it. If you stop, then carefully observe the inside. If it has nice, shiny tables, the place is well-lit, and the employees are young, clean, smiling, with the same uniforms, the barbeque will SUCK. Leave immediately. Another clue: side dishes. If they offer more than one kind of french fry or more than one size of french fry, that's going to be the only good thing about the meal.

If the lighting is spotty, it's got tables with wooden chairs around tables topped with somewhat worn red-and-white checkered cloths, and the employees are wearing aprons but not uniforms, it's still got a shot.

On the other hand, if you see a hand-painted sign that looks like it was cribbed from the set of the Beverly Hillbillies, outside a ramshackle place, stop. Quickly. You might be about to experience nirvana. When you go inside, if the proprietor has frazzled, gray hair and is missing at least one tooth (either sex), and is rather brusque, start getting ready for a treat. Dim lighting? Even better. Air circulation limited to either a single oscillating or box fan? Even better. Only side dish is a grunt and a wave towards a rack of Terry's brand potato chip bags? Damn, you're in for a treat.

Seriously. If you're from up North, here's an analogy: you know the principle - the greasier the proprietor and the stronger his accent, the better the pizza. If you're from out West, you know that bars on the windows and English being absent from the menus and the staff means awesome Mexican food. Same kind of thing here. If you're halfway (or mostly) alarmed by the appearance of the proprietor and premesis, you will be completely happy with the food!

[GaYellowDawg]

1. Kicked for your benefit.

Feel free to chime in.

[NMDemDist2]

2. true dat GAdem! n/t

[Gormy Cuss]

3. If you ask "How big is a half rack?" and the answer is

"Depends on the hog." you've come to the right place.

I've been to enough BBQ joints to say that your guidelines are spot on. There are a few nice clean places sprinkled about (the Rendezvous in Memphis is one that comes to mind) but usually the best spot in town is exactly as you describe it.

[mike_c]

4. absolutely true!

Damn, I've eaten some fantastic barbecue in roughly converted sheds and barns-- also the backs of ramshackle wooden country stores and in half converted drive-in joints. Nirvana indeed!

edited to add: if the proprietor is chopping the 'cue, he should be using a hatchet, not a fancy expensive knife! The bread on the table should be a communal package of cheap white bread. And if anyone asks you whether you want your tea sweet or not, flee.

[jpak]

7. Walter's BBQ on Atlanta Highway comes to mind

and the "PIT COOKed" sign

Automatic for the people...

:thumbsup:

[trof]

5. God's truth, m'man!

As soon as Ollie's (fabled) Barbecue moved out of the old smoke stained building on downtown Birmingham's near south side and out to the McDonald's look-alike building by the new mall in the 'burbs they lasted about a year.

[trof]

6. You reminded me of something. Down memory lane...

Hope this doesn't sound racist to anyone. It's sure not meant to be.
Grandpa worked half a day on Saturdays. He sold Chevys.
Sometimes he'd pick me up on his way home and we'd drive through a black neighborhood. This was in the 40s.

About a block before we got to the house we could smell the barbecue.
In the front yard of a house just a couple of notches above a shack there was a sign. It was hand lettered in crayon on a shirt cardboard nailed to a stick.
It just said "BARBQ".

There were 4 or 5 old men in the yard sitting on crates or boxes. There may have been something in a brown paper bag being passed around, but my memory is hazy on that. One fellow was tending 3 or 4 big steel washtubs with pieces of wire fence over them. And he was cooking ribs and butts and briskets. Mopping them with a rag tied on a stick dipped in the sauce.

One of his buddies would walk over to the car and take our 'order'.
The cook would point here, there, and the man would pick out our selections. Wrapped them in clean butcher paper and put them in an obviously 'recycled' paper bag.
Best damn barbecue I've ever had in my life.

Now it may come from the decades of 'making do' with the 'leavings' of the folks in the big house, the lesser, cheaper, cuts of meat. But I think cooks of African American heritage just do barbecue better than us white folks.

And if that's prejudice, then so be it.

[carly denise pt deux]

8. and places that have sawdust on the floor

seems like the best BBQ places I have been to have sawdust covering the floor....dont' know why

[Wcross]

9. Also remember the "slaw" isn't a side order.

It belongs on top of the samich.

Oh, bless your heart GaYellowdog. Now I have to think about carryin' my ass to town (15 miles) to pick up some pulled pork.