We foolishly thought pitmaster Alan Caldwell might finally be ready to chat about the secrets of his smoking method. Ha. Caldwell said only, “You can ask . . .” and then broke into a big smile followed by silence. When we arrived, the eight or so tables were all taken, filled with locals and a handful of ravenous A&M students. We could see the piles of sausage links, stacks of soon-to-be-cut ribs, and beautifully blackened chicken all on display at the counter. The brisket, flaunting a rosy-pink smoke ring, was the stuff memories are made of—even the lean was plenty moist. Beneath the sausage’s casing was a wonderfully smoky pork and beef filling. And the chicken, the downfall of many a joint, had juicy drumsticks with deep flavor all the way to the bone.