This was the morning where instead of discovering another great barbecue joint in Texas, Smokemaster1 and I were taking my friend Rob to the heart of barbecue country to find out what all the fuss was about. A stop at Chisholm Trail for excellent sausage and brisket but no ribs was followed by a less-than-stellar trip to Smitty’s. I was thinking to myself that Rob may now be questioning the Lockhart fuss altogether. That is until we stepped into Black’s. This was my third visit, and I have yet to see where all the haters get their ammo. Sure there’s a sad-looking salad bar as you walk in, but the meat here is nothing short of fantastic.

The sausage here is an 85-percent-beef-and-15-percent-pork mixture. The casings have a great snap, the meat is well seasoned, and the overall experience of a Black’s sausage squirting hot fat into your mouth is something that demands a repeat performance. A recent addition to the menu was baby back ribs. The smokiness and bold flavoring from the rub was all there, but it needed more time on the smoker to reach another degree of tenderness.

I got to use my Q Card for just the second time. It feels good to save money.

A gargantuan beef rib (not pictured) was much better. The moist meat was eminently tender, and the smokiness embedded into the thick black crust was savory goodness. A rib of this size could make a modest meal for two.


After some great sausage and good ribs, Rob was looking satisfied enough. Then we divvied up the slices of brisket. As those tender slices were being passed and devoured I noticed a thick slice of fatty goodness straight from the end of the brisket flat. The surface area of smoky crust got me giddy, but I decided that although I discovered the slice, the newbie needed the experience more than myself. After some discussion, we cut it into three chunks and, as if doing a ceremonial shot of tequila, we downed our bites in unison. At that point cracks formed in the ceiling as the roof opened up and sunlight poured into the space. Suddenly, angelic voices filled the room, and Rob was smiling. We were all smiling, as this will be logged into my memory as one of the finest bites of smoked beef that has ever passed these lips. It was that good, and I’m not exaggerating. If they could guarantee a bite like that with every order, I’d consider driving down on weeknights. Thank you, Black’s, for helping me turn Rob into a Texas barbecue believer.

(This review originally appeared on Full Custom Gospel BBQ.)