Martin’s Place
Bare-bones locale with barbecue done right
The closest some Dallasites will get to a Central Texas barbecue experience could well be ordering meat by the pound at Lockhart Smokehouse.
Mike Anderson Jr. runs one of the most popular barbecue lunch spots in Dallas.
At peak hours, the lines invariably stretch out the back door. Patiently, you inch your way forward, passing the waist-high brick pits and perusing the list of post oak-smoked meats (brisket, pork ribs and chops, shoulder clod, sausage, prime rib). Salivating, you finally place your order for a pound or
The smoke room at City Market is worthy of a barbecue-lover’s bucket list. Tucked inconspicuously in the back right-hand corner of the building, its dark windows don’t let on about the meat magic happening behind them, but, boy, is it. The brisket on a recent visit was moist and flavorful,
No, this is not some newfangled, Aussie-inspired, Marlin-born culinary calamity. Have no fear, smoked kangaroo is not a featured menu item. “Boomerang,” in this instance, is meant to indicate that you’ll be so satisfied you’ll come back. Turns out there’s truth in advertising. Whup’s is tidy and small, but there
Be advised: Diabetics may want to tread lightly.
Remarkable employee: A jocular pitman who hails arriving and departing guests.
Notable decor: Hundreds of signatures carved in the pads of a giant prickly pear hedge out front.
The prime rib at Opie’s is so tender you almost feel sorry for it. How will it protect itself? It lacks the brisket’s seasoned black bark, the baby back ribs’ sweet, chewy crust, or the all-pork jalapeño sausage’s threatening heat. Also try the tater tot casserole and the homemade, bigger-than-a-child’s-head
The line at Louie Mueller was moving slowly when we visited, and the woman taking orders had no time for small talk. But our request for a beef rib stopped her cold. “You know what you’re doing, right?” she said. “That’s gonna be more than two pounds of meat. Yep,
The tagline stenciled on nearly every surface at Stanley’s is “Be Kind, Have Fun,” a somewhat incongruous entreaty in this traditionally rough-and-tumble East Texas railroad town. But Stanley’s lives up to the motto, combining a world-class barbecue joint with two bars stocked with a dizzying selection of beer and assorted
Owner Clarence Cohens is from Memphis, where, apparently, they have their own barbecue traditions.
The vinegar-based sauce is good on everything—ribs, brisket, sausage, bread, onions, cobbler, the sleeve of your jacket, a balled-up napkin, the menu, stray bits of pocket lint.
When we compiled our last list, in 2003, the Cooper’s in Mason was in our top five. (The more famous Cooper’s, in Llano, is operated independently.) Sadly, it has now fallen out of our top fifty. Each piece of barbecue we sampled—from the brisket to the pork ribs to the
In all of Texas, only a handful of places have sausage you can get excited about. This is one of them.
Hands down, the best BBQ in the region.
We didn’t see pitmaster Roy Perez and his famous muttonchop sideburns on our last visit to the Lockhart institution, but the rest was reassuringly familiar. Rows of picnic tables ushered us back to a long, hallowed hall, and we soon found ourselves in a happy haze of post oak smoke.
The brisket fell into delectable shards while remaining moist, even after sixteen hours in the smoker. We missed the ribs, but the porcine portion of the barbecue family was well represented by two kinds of sausage, plain and spicy. Darn-good sides rounded out the offerings. The thick, sweet, tomato-tart sauce
What’s better: the tangy brisket, the meaty ribs, or the small porky sausages? Debate it at the long communal table.
Four decades of classic barbecue, still going strong.
Can a place that cooks its meat in a gas-burning rotisserie make really great ’cue? Well, the brown-sugar-and-coffee-rubbed brisket was delicious, the maple-and-coriander-encrusted pork ribs were tender, the pulled pork was perfect, and the chorizo-ish jalapeño hot links were unforgettable. Sides and desserts were extraordinary. A jícama-and-carrot slaw, in particular,
Notable decor: Rodeo memorabilia.
Menu surprise: Pineapple pudding.
This converted gas station, its service bays occupied by two portable cast-iron pits, immediately filled our tanks with pecan-smoked brisket and tender pepper-crusted pork ribs. The fresh coleslaw made up for a tomatoey sauce better suited to pasta. We ignored the five chain-link-enclosed picnic tables and ate by the car—whose
Notable decor: A meat case practically as long as the building itself.
The secret? “Love,” says Louis McMillan, the owner of this six-table outpost in this tiny town, just west of Victoria. Corny, sure, but that love—along with sixteen-plus hours over an oak-pecan-mesquite mix—turns out moist, tender brisket and fat little baby back ribs that are nicely charred on the outside and
Three-plus years ago, Adrian Handsborough converted the neighborhood convenience store his mom, Virgie, ran for 35 years and began cooking over oak and pecan in two small barrels. His brisket, only a tad fatty, smokes for ten to fourteen hours; we could cut ours with a plastic fork. Well-seasoned pork
Be advised: Several years ago a man was arrested after breaking into Buzzie’s at four in the morning to fix himself a chopped-beef sandwich.
We named Snow's the state’s best joint back in 2008, and they continue to serve their loyal fan base every Saturday.
Notable decor: None. The decorating budget appears to have been spent on meat.
Notable decor: A six-foot-tall cooler filled with raw steaks.
In barbecue time there’s before, during, and after. Before our meal at Cousin’s, we studied the brisket’s thin, dark crust. During our meal, the smoky taste made us lose track of our other senses. Ribs were rich. Sauce was tart. Sweet beans really were. After, we wondered where the time
Celebrity customers have included: Robert Duvall, George H.W. Bush, and Larry Hagman.