Do I smell smoked meat?

Louie Mueller Barbecue
206 W 2nd St.
Taylor, TX 76574




Smoked meat.

It's a Texas specialty.

And though I complain incessantly about Texas, this is one area that I am left speechless.

Louie Mueller Barbecue is legendary. I know this because my good friend Suit757 told me so. In fact, I made him quite jealous by visiting this establishment before him.


Well-smoked Texas Flag

Located about 40 minutes Northeast of downtown Austin, this place is an absolute must visit. But make sure you don't go too late in the day, because once they are out of meat, they're done for the day, and you're out of luck.

And, trust me, you don't want to miss this.

Walking into Louie Mueller Barbecue, you'll notice everything has a thin, or thick, layer of soot on it, and the wonderful smell of smoke in the air.

In fact, one of my compatriots shared with me that when the current owner took over the family business from his father, he attempted to clean the soot off the walls, much to the displeasure of the regular patrons of this fine establishment.

From then on, it seems that they don't bother with it. And why would you? It adds so much character to the place and it is how a good smokehouse should look.

It's a good thing that I came to this place with experienced patrons,
not to mention a large group, because I don't think I could have handled this trip alone.

The specialty of this place is beef ribs. In other words, dinosaur bones. And you buy them by the pound. For our group, we ordered over four pounds of ribs.

This was a massive pile of meat. And it just fell right off the bones. It was so tender and delicious, I was tempted to throw some in my carry on, but figured TSA might have an issue with my suitcase leaking grease.


 I had no idea how to even divide the spoils among our group, so I passed my knife to the native Texan in the group to handle the situation. When in Texas, trust the Texan.

And this is where I will start my regularly scheduled rant. I don't understand barbecue bigotry. I am constantly reminded by my Southern brethren of the atrocities of the North against the South in the War Between the States, which happened over 150 years ago, and I had nothing do with it.

My point in bringing this up is that the South can't even get along with each other. I'm told by folks from Tennessee and the Carolinas that you can only smoke pork. Meanwhile, in Texas, the only true barbecue is beef.

Not trying to sound like a hippy here, but why can't we all just get along? All smoked meat is a good thing. And that includes pork, beef, chicken, turkey, fish, alligator, and so on. Smoke does a wonderful thing to meat, and it should all be enjoyed.

So, until the South can get along on the issue of smoked meat, I'm not too concerned about them "rising" again anytime soon.

End of rant.

To go along with these delicious ribs, we also purchased a quart of potato salad which, in my book, is a must with BBQ. I'm often disappointed by the potato salad offered at what would be considered good BBQ joints. For some places, it's almost an afterthought.

In my book, a truly good BBQ joint has excellent potato salad, and Louie Mueller didn't disappoint. Their potato salad is full of flavor and went very well with the ribs.

While enjoying this delicious meal, I started to realize that my eyes were starting to sting from all of the smoke. It fell like I was sitting around a campfire, and I loved it.

To finish things off, I was given the recommendation to try the peach cobbler. I was not disappointed in this endeavor as well. It was warm and fresh, and completed with a scoop of Texas' own Blue Bell vanilla ice cream.

I left Louie Mueller Barbecue with a full stomach, a satisfied craving for barbecue, and smelling like smoke that would make anyone sitting next to me on my flight jealous that I had enjoyed delicious smoked meat, and they hadn't.

 Take my word for it. This place is worth the detour if you are in the Austin area.

And if you are one of those close-minded "There is only one true form of BBQ", get off your high horse and go enjoy the diversity of smoked meats that are all over this great country of ours.

Rating: Bought the Smoke-filled Shirt!

Parking is a Premium at Off Site Kitchen

Off Site Kitchen
2226 Irving Blvd.

Dallas, TX 75207

 

It's been just over two years since my last visit to Texas, and as a guy from the Great Lakes region, I can tell you that I did not look forward to return to the heat of Texas.

I was in the Dallas area on business with a fellow Suit who explained to me that the heat in Texas can get so extreme that bugs will actually melt on the sidewalk. Not the crunchy bugs, he clarified, just the big, fat and juicy ones.

Comforting...

Look, I'm sure Texas is nice not during the summer months, but I can't exactly confirm that, being that I've only really been there during the months that bugs melt.

And don't get me started on the politics of Texas.

Every conservative believes that Texas is somehow a utopia for conservative politics. Texas has worse gun laws than Pennsylvania!

Oh, and you also have to provide all ten fingerprints to get a driver's license in the state. How about that for freedom-loving?

And Rick Perry...where do I even start with him? Sometimes he can be so right and other times he can just be plain stupid. Perry is finally stepping down after being Governor for what seems like since the Civil War. No term limit for the Executive? No thank you...

Oh, and let us not forget that Texas also gave us the Bush dynasty which single-handedly destroyed the Republican Party.

But the people of Texas are good people, so long as you can tolerate them constantly correcting you that everything is better and/or bigger in Texas.

No, but seriously, I shouldn't be so tough on Texas because despite their government and obnoxious heat, it is a nice state. And one thing for sure, they know how to cook.

My fellow suit, being a native Texan, knew that I would be interested in the finest of what Dallas had to offer. He did his research, and brought us to a shady part of town to what looked like from the outside a perfect place for a Suit to review.

Once through the front door, I knew he had just taken me a goldmine of a Suit review.

Off Site Kitchen is everything that a Suit could ask for in a delicious place to eat: severe lack of parking spaces, long line to the register, very little seating, and the smell of smoked meat in the air.

I ordered the special of the day which was half a BBQ chicken with house made BBQ sauce, coleslaw, and Texas toast.

In true Texas fashion, my fellow Suit ordered the Ten Buck Four Burger, which is a burger made up of four 1/4 pound burger patties, for a grand total of a pound of meat, plus a fried egg on top.

I must say, I became envious of that burger. That thing looked awesome, and according to my fellow Suit, it was, as he had to restart his heart several times during the process of eating it.
 

Don't get me wrong, though, my BBQ chicken was delicious. The meat was very moist and flavorful, and the house made BBQ sauce that came with it had the right amount of tang to it.

The only way to truly complete this meal is by washing it down with the beer that is the pride of Texas, Shiner Bock. Now, I'm not going to sit here and sing the praises of Shiner Bock. It's an okay beer and really is about the best Texas can offer. The laws in Texas just absolutely kill the craft beer industry.

Yet another fine example of the lack of freedom in the Lone Star State...

But I salute Shiner for their long history of serving the people of Texas with a quality beer.

Freedom will come some day to Texas so that Texans can actually openly carry a firearm without being thrown in jail, and to know what real good beer tastes like.

Until then, they can keep enjoying their delicious food with a small variety of good beer, while dreaming of the day they can live up to the label of "freest state in the union."

Off Site Kitchen is a must for anyone visiting the Dallas area. It is off the beaten path, and you'll have a hard time finding parking, but it is well worth it.

Rating: Seriously Thought About Buying Shirt

BBQ Corruption in Texas?

 

Bartley's BBQ
413 E. Northwest Hwy.
Grapevine, TX



Texas is no stranger to scandal, corruption and bribery.

Lyndon Johnson’s national political career was launched thanks to the infamous “Box 13 Scandal” in 1948.

Six days after seemingly losing his bid for the U.S. Senate by just a handful of votes, a ballot box from the 13th precinct in what is now Jim Wells County was “discovered.”

Miraculously, all the newly discovered ballots were written in the same ink and all the voters somehow managed to cast their ballots in alphabetical order.

How’s that for Texas creativity?

The vote total from Box 13?

200 for LBJ. 2 for his opponent.

LBJ was declared the new United States Senator from Texas by 87 votes.

Thus began LBJ’s path to the White House where he created the modern American welfare state that has set America on a steady glide-path to economic and social ruin.

Rigged elections have consequences.

But it’s one thing to rig a political election in Texas.

Apparently, that, Texans will tolerate.

Just don’t go messing with their barbeque.

So what I am about to allege will rock the Lone Star State to its core.

Texas Monthly’s revered “The List” of “Top 50 BBQ Joints” is rigged.

How else to explain the inclusion of Bartley’s BBQ in Grapevine?

The twice per decade list just came out to much fanfare a few months ago. And I’ve already been to eight of them.

That’s a pretty good sample size considering I live 1000 miles away from here and Texas is only one out of 50 states Suit757 travels to.

So far, the barbeque I’ve sampled at these now world-renowned smoke shacks has ranged from exquisite to mediocre.

But the inclusion of Bartley’s, a small joint in a run-down strip mall just north of DFW Airport, throws the integrity of the entire “List” into question.

Now, I know what you are thinking.

You’re thinking, “Suit757, isn’t judging Texas barbeque somewhat subjective?”

Somewhat, yes.

But no barbeque eater worth his rub would conclude that the food served by Bartley’s is good barbeque. Certainly not a blue ribbon panel of supposed barbeque experts assembled by Texas Monthly.

Corruption is the only explanation.

That was my conclusion as soon as I picked up my first piece of brisket.

It was so hard and stiff, I thought this cow might be suffering from rigamortis.

I took a picture and planned to submit it to one of those on-line “planking” contests.

Folks, Texas barbeque brisket is supposed to be slow smoked for hours, yielding a fall-apart tender texture that you can just pick up piece by piece with your fingers.

It’s not supposed to be hard like a piece of cold salami.

Like a tough slice of cold roast beef, Bartley’s brisket was a room temperature mouthful of chewy, bland tastelessness.

A thin red smoke ring and a pile of hickory logs out back by the chimney prove that this cow has seen at least a bit of smoke, but I couldn’t taste any of it.

Even the dark bark on the edges had no flavor.

The only way I could even choke it down was to douse the brisket in Bartley’s sweet tomatoey sauce.

The sausage was better, but far from inspiring.

It was basically the same processed pre-cooked smoked link sausage you can buy at your grocery store.

The sides were even less inspiring.

The options in the do-it-yourself cafeteria line were so unappetizing, I opted for some boring baked beans and macaroni salad.

Macaroni salad?

At a Texas BBQ joint?

Yeah. Like I said, uninspiring and unappetizing.

So who did Bartley’s bribe to get included on a list of the best BBQ joints on earth?

Is there a “Box 13” of paper ballots with “Bartley’s” written in the same hand writing stashed somewhere in the bowels of Texas Monthly’s headquarters?

I want to know.

When I fly into a state, I usually have time for exactly one meal. That’s it.

It better be good.

I trusted this “List” to make my decision today.

So I wasn’t just disappointed. I was ticked off.

Like I said, corruption has dire consequences.

A stuffed ballot box in Jim Wells County 65 years ago eventually led to the swearing in of the worst President in the second half of the Twentieth Century.

And a stuffed ballot box at Texas Monthly ruined my trip to North Texas.

I’ll let you decide which is worse.

Rating: Clean Grill with Shirt.

Go Ahead and Take the Plunge with these Two Bros

Two Bros. BBQ Market
12656 West Ave.
San Antonio, TX




Smoking brisket is like taking the plunge into marriage.

The choices you make upfront can lead to results that are very good.

Or…

…Very, very bad.

Without the right commitment to quality meat, good rub, ideal hard wood, a top notch smoker and lots and lots of patience and time, you are in for a final product devoid of spice, flavor or tenderness.

It will be nothing but an expensive exercise in wasted effort.

You’ll be looking to sign divorce papers as soon as you bite into a bad brisket that tastes like a dry, tasteless hunk of unchewable roast beef.
Don’t even think about walking down that aisle unless you commit to doing it right.

I’m happy to report that the bros at Two Bros BBQ Market on the north side of San Antonio know exactly how to do brisket right.

Any doubt is dispelled the moment you pull up into the parking lot and notice the smoke billowing up from the smoker out back.

You’ll know you made the right choice as soon as you open the front door and are greeted by the sweet aroma of cow fat being slowly melted by the embers of Texas post oak.

Two Bros is nothing like the scary dilapidated old brisket smoke shacks down around Lockhart like Smitty’s and Black’s.

This place has been around for only four years, an infantile newcomer to the century’s old art of smoking briskets in the Lone Star State.

Rustically located under some old live oak trees -- a few of which grow right up through the middle of the restaurant -- it’s still hard to camouflage the new construction feel of Two Bros BBQ Market.

But what it lacks in old school credentials, Two Bros more than makes up for with its real deal authentic Texas barbeque.

The pit master sliced off a couple thick swaths of brisket and a smoked sausage onto my butcher paper.

Unlike in Lockhart, plastic utensils are available at Two Bros -- but you won’t need them.

The hunks of beef fall apart at the mere touch of your fingers.

The thick dark crunchy bark on the edge of each slice ignites a combustion of salty flavor in every bite.

The soft tender inside of the slice offers a smoky succulent counterbalance to the bark.

Each bite of decadent fatty beef almost melts in your mouth like bovine butter.

Absolutely extraordinary!

It’s like giving a make-over to Kate Upton, but I couldn’t resist the urge to dip a few hunks of brisket into Two Bros warm homemade sauce.

The sauce is completely unnecessary -- yet completely delicious with a nice balance between spicy tang and tomatoey sweetness.

The sausage approached heights of perfection as well.

Taught and smoky, each bite offered a nice snap of greasy meaty flavor.

Well done, bros, well done.

Even the sides were top notch.

The mac and cheese was thick and goopy the way your grandma made it.

The beans were a kaleidoscope of flavor, balancing the savory goodness of bacon with the sweetness of Texas peaches. You won’t find anything like this in the canned goods aisle of your local grocery.

That’s for sure.

Since it was the middle of a Suit757 workday, a Shiner Bock to wash all this Texas barbeque down just wasn’t an option.

So I went with the Texas BBQ Plan B Beverage -- a can of Big Red -- the syrupy sweet red soda that leaves your tongue stained with artificial coloring for 24 hours.

Big Red is so bad it has never managed to spread much beyond the borders of the Lone Star State.

But as Texas songwriter Robert Earl Keen explained in his song “Barbeque”, “a cold Big Red” is considered obligatory when dining on Texas brisket and sausage.

Like marriage, picking a place in Texas to eat brisket takes something of a leap of faith.

Sure, I did my homework and read about Two Bros awards as one of the top BBQ shacks in Texas, but until you commit to lifting that first bite of beef off your butcher paper you can never really be totally sure what you are going to get.

That’s where Suit757 comes in.

Consider me to be your brisket marriage counselor.

If you in San Antonio -- heck, if you are ever within 100 miles of San Antonio -- do yourself a favor.

Make the commitment. Tie the knot. Take the plunge at Two Bros BBQ Market.

You’ll live happily ever after.

Rating: Bought the Shirt!

Spoiled By Fame

Virgie’s BBQ
5535 Gessner Dr.
Houston, TX




Sometimes too much success can be a bad thing.

Really? Did Suit757 really just say that?

Yes.

Now, before you go all Sean Hannity on me for turning into some Obama-loving pinko Commie, hear me out here.

Good barbeque is almost always smoked at small family-run roadside joints like Virgie’s in Houston.

Brisket and ribs slow smoked over mesquite for hours out back, one batch at a time.

That’s how great barbeque is done.

This isn’t McDonalds or Cracker Barrel. These places aren’t equipped for busloads of tourists pulling off the interstate for preheated, ready-to-serve fast food.

That’s why I always get suspicious of any mom and pop restaurant that advertises its catering business, as Virgie’s does on the sign out front.

You can either serve top notch home-cooked food to a small loyal clientele or you can serve the masses.

Few can do both well.

Unfortunately the day I happened to stumble into Virgie’s, this little barbeque joint in a black neighborhood on the northwest side of Houston was facing just such a trial by fire.

Unbeknownst to me, Texas Monthly Magazine just released its twice-per-decade list of the top 50 Lone Star State barbeque places just a couple days before I got there.

And, yes, Virgie’s made this list.

Now, to truly understand the implications of such an accomplishment, you have to understand that the publication of this list is anticipated in Texas about as much as Sports Illustrated’s Swim Suit Issue.

Maybe more so.

Understand, to a Texan, a list of the top 50 barbeque joints in Texas might as well be titled The Top 50 Barbeque Joints on Planet Earth.

It’s the same thing.

Texas Monthly takes its responsibility seriously, utilizing 16 barbeque-palette refined experts to spread out across the Lone Star State’s 268,000 square miles to sample the smoked meats at over 650 restaurants.

I mean, this is serious as a sausage-induced heart attack.

The freshly laminated article touting Virgie’s best-in-Texas brisket was proudly displayed on the front door.

Turns out I had plenty of time to read it because the line at 11am on a Friday was already out the door.

The gravel parking lot was packed, requiring me to illegally park my Ford Focus rental car.

The family running Virgie’s seemed to be a bit overwhelmed by their newfound fame -- and the hordes of white people piling into their suddenly famous little joint.

The line moved fairly quickly but there was a general sense of disorganization once I got to the friendly, but frenzied ladies taking down all the rapid-fire lunch orders.

The next challenge was finding a place to sit in this cozy little lunch room.

Fortunately, I spied one lonely dirty table in the back next to a ten top of suit-wearing office dwellers all commenting and critiquing Virgie’s suddenly on-the-spot smoked meat.

I could picture them 45 minutes earlier all sitting around their high rise cube farm excitedly perusing the new Texas Monthly issue like a pack of Cub Scouts who discovered a clandestine stash of Play Boys.

“Ohh, wow! There’s a place here in Houston that made the list! We have to check this place out -- right now.”

Then they all piled into their SUVs, plugged the address into their GPSs and ventured out to a part of town most of them never knew existed.

Clearly, Virgie’s wasn’t prepared for the fame.

After wiping down my table, I waited for my order.

And waited.

And waited.

After a half an hour, I started to worry that I was going to miss my flight home out of Houston Intercontinental.

Finally, some guy came out of the kitchen, cut through the chaos in the lunch room and delivered a Styrofoam box to my table.

He mumbled something about sauce and then disappeared. Assuming he would reappear momentarily with the aforementioned sauce, I waited.

And waited.

After another five minutes, I got up, worked my way through the crowd back to the ladies at the order counter and managed to retrieve some sauce.

Unfortunately, the meat needed that sauce, which is considered something of a badge of dishonor in the Lone Star State.

The best brisket in Texas needs no sauce.

Virgie’s brisket had as much fat as meat, yet still managed to be dry and lacking in flavor. Hence the necessity of that good tomato-based sauce.

The sausage was better but not spectacular.

My sides of baked beans and green beans were as uninspiring as any you’d get out of a can.

As I wolfed down my lunch in five minutes, I couldn’t help but feel a bit let down.

Maybe success has spoiled the mojo that made Virgie’s famous.

Maybe my expectations were just too high after learning about Virgie’s Texas Monthly accolades.

Maybe I should just come back another day when the glow from barbeque fame has faded a bit.

So, can too much success really be a bad thing?

All I know is they say success has a thousand fathers and defeat is an orphan.

Too bad all those hungry fathers had to show up on the same day.

Rating: Would Wear a Free Shirt.

A Texas Lunch Time Tragedy

Stone Werks
7500 Broadway St.
San Antonio, TX



I’m giving up burgers.

Yep. You read that right. Suit757 is swearing off burgers.

I know. That’s like the Pope giving up Catholicism.

Or Obama giving up Socialism.

Or John Mayer giving up snaking hot chicks.

But after choking down one of the worst burgers I’ve ever eaten in my life at Stone Werks in San Antonio, Texas…

…I’m done.

Finished with hamburgers. At least in restaurants.

Why is it impossible for restaurants to properly cook a slab of ground beef?

I know, I know. Some blood sucking lawyer out there will sue the restaurant if every microscopic trace of bacteria isn’t incinerated.

But if you insist on incinerating my meat into a dried up, hardened block of Texas sun-scorched cow dung, why don’t you just take it off the menu? Just stick to things that are supposed to be incinerated like chicken fried steak.

But don’t charge me twelve bucks for a burger and then ruin it.

You’ll just tick me off.

What especially ticked me off is I asked for it “medium.” You know, the way God intended a burger to be cooked -- a little char on the outside, pink on the inside and plenty of juicy goodness dripping onto my plate.

But almost no restaurant in our lawyerphobic American society serves burgers like that anymore.

It’s gotten so that I purposely order my burger rare -- even though I don’t want a rare burger. Just in the hopes that I can avoid a bone-dry hockey puck.

Of course even that doesn’t always work.

But here I am deep I the heart of cattle country and I make the mistake of thinking this place might actually know how to cook a mound of beef.

My “medium” bacon and smoked Gouda burger was nothing but a hard clump of grey meat.

Even the bacon was overcooked.

There is a fine line between the savory smoky flavor of good bacon and the bitter taste of burnt bacon.

The obnoxious flavor of charred bacon completely camouflaged the smoked Gouda. I’ll take their word for it that it was even on my burger.

Tasteless cheese. Burnt bacon. Dry overcooked beef.

This burger desperately needed some condiment salvation.

Unfortunately, none was provided. Except a ramekin of cocktail sauce.

Cocktail sauce?

Yeah, the bartender gave me cocktail sauce instead of ketchup for my fries. And then proceeded to run off and disappear for 15 minutes.

I’m glad I didn’t dump it on my burger. Of course, as bad as it was, it might have been an improvement.

The fries were a tedious bore -- even after the waiter reappeared and fixed his ketchup mistake a quarter hour later.

Okay. So far we have crappy, over-priced, over-cooked food. Lousy fries. And inattentive service.

Not a great way to earn a top Suits in Strange Places rating.

The only good thing about Stone Werks was the beer selection.

The place had a pretty decent range of tap handles from both national and Texas craft breweries.

The Lone Star State is not known for good beer, but being a good Suit, I knew I should try the local brews.

First up was Wild Hare, a pale ale by Shiner -- that little brewery in South Texas more famous for its bland Shiner Bock.

Unfortunately, Wild Hare is pretty bland too, confirming my theory that good breweries make good
beers across the board -- and vice versa.

Not that I want to slander Shiner Brewery.

I’ve done the brewery tour several times. It’s fun. Their beers are a nice alternative to the ubiquitous Coors Light cans decorated with the Texas state outline.

But, the fact is, Shiner just doesn’t make very flavorful beers.

Next I tried the locally brewed Ranger O.P.A., which stands for Oatmeal Pale Ale.

Now that’s something different.

I’ve tried oatmeal stouts. But never an oatmeal pale ale.

This one was smooth and creamy with sort of a fruity, bready aftertaste that pushed the hops normally associated with a pale ale to the background.

Not really a fan.

I guess I’m giving up on Oatmeal Pale Ales -- along with restaurant burgers.

I’ve never left a bar so depressed.

Is my backyard really the only place in America I can trust ordering a good juicy burger?

If I want my burgers done right, do I really have to do it myself?

How am I going to survive a burgerless life on the road?

How can I endure the indignities of modern day travel in America without my one redeeming red meat pleasure?

As I drove my rental car out of Stone Werks suburban hell parking lot and tried to make my way to the San Antonio Airport, I contemplated what a tragic experience this lunch had been.

I mean, it's not like Suit757 hasn't reviewed some pretty bad meals before.

But this was different.  The road ahead for Suit757 will never be the same.

Stone Werks -- you have ruined my life!

Rating: Clean Grill with Shirt.