For many American eaters, barbecue is a serious subject. An ancient form of cooking that has since evolved into a national cuisine, barbecue predilections often reflect who a person is, where they grew up, and what they value in a dining experience. On the other hand, bad barbecue eateries don't celebrate this identity or embrace the time, commitment, and effort it takes to uphold this culinary tradition. So why would anyone chose to eat at a less-than-stellar barbecue joint? Well, they probably wouldn't. However, many diners might not know the signs of an underwhelming barbecue restaurant upon first glance. Get your appetite ready and break out the napkins, because here are the 12 signs any smoked meat enjoyer should look for when choosing a good barbecue joint over a bad one.
But in the case of some of daytime TV's finest thespians, their private lives have as much drama as anything written for the screen. From depression, to cancer battles, to accidental death, these stars have weathered more tragedy than even the most talented screenwriters could fit into the few hours before Dr. Phil comes on.
Let's take a look behind the glitz and glamour, and discover some of the real life tragic stories of soap opera stars.
The author matters. The director matters. The painter matters.
There's a reason the film is called "The Wizard of Oz," and not "Dorothy of Oz". We want to know who's behind the curtain, because that dictates what's in front of the curtain. When it comes time to decide whether to patronize a barbecue establishment or run from it screaming, see if you can learn more about the pitmaster(s) behind the scenes. This can usually be accomplished by visiting the restaurant's website, conversing with customers in the community, or just asking the staff.
Many great barbecue joints have a reputable pitmaster at the helm, and will usually tout their CV:
How many awards or competitions they've won, the years of experience, or perhaps the exact thousands of briskets they've smoked. However, a pitmaster's stamp goes beyond prowess in smoked meats. Values, attitude, philosophy, and a love for one of civilization's oldest cooking methods all reflect in overall customer appreciation and restaurant performance. A barbecue eatery without any pitmaster is a sign that it may lack direction, cohesion, and pride for the food it puts out. No master often means no mastery. That may be acceptable other types of restaurants, but not a smokehouse.
No smoke and no fire means no authenticity
Barbecuing isn't grilling. In fact, they are almost entirely opposite methods of cooking. You can grill to your heart's desire in a backyard or commandeered park, but that's not why diners go to a barbecue restaurant. Those succulent servings of brisket, ribs, pork butt, et al. require smoke pits for proper finishing (along with time and a little blue-collar finesse). Therefore, look for a smoker on site when choosing a barbecue place. A lot of locations will keep these visible to customers as a way of showing that everything is handled on site. If you don't see an actual pit, look for the signs. There'll either be smoke wafting through the air from some unseen source to fill your nose (and eyes), or piles of wood for said smoker.
Purported barbecue restaurants with no trace of a smoker (or are in locales that don't allow enough space for it) raise questions about where and how the product is prepared. Which in turn begets another question: Why am I eating here?
The barbecue meat is pre-sauced
The use of sauce in barbecue can be hugely controversial, with no shortage of opinions on the matter. Though barbecue sauce can be easily made at home, the issue has divided states, regions, peoples, and drawls for decades. Not only do BBQ strongholds like Kansas City and North Carolina have their own intra-sauce battles, but many Texans religiously believe that sauce belongs nowhere near the meat at all. Although the latter — like most generalizations — has since been categorized as a misconception, there's one approach to sauce that no real barbecue aficionado approves of: pre-saucing the meat.
At the root of this beef with sauce (intention of pun pending) is trust. A barbecue restaurant known to slather their meat before serving invites suspicion that it's hiding something about the product — perhaps that the meat can't stand on its own as a quality offering. Whether pro-sauce or not, its agreed by many that serving sauce on the side of barbecue is perfectly okay; leaving the choice with the customer. Removing that independence and saucing the meat by default is often a sure sign of paranoid preparation.
The restaurant doesn't focus on traditional barbecue dishes
Experimentation can be a good thing — at least when it comes to music, science, or the films of Luis Buñuel. But if a restaurant's experimentation comes at the cost of serving classic barbecue dishes, the smokehouse might have to reconsider its approach ... and customers might have to reconsider their choice of eatery.
The reason many authentic barbecue restaurants serve the same meats lies in the origin of modern BBQ. Working people were left with the toughest cuts, and had to learn the time-tested alchemy of smoke to transform these materials into tastebud gold. Offering Wagyu is a barbecue red flag, along with sirloin, burgers, hot dogs, and other foods better suited to grilling. These can be a sign that a smokehouse either doesn't really know what it's doing, doesn't care, or is misguidedly pandering to a wider customer base. Ironically, this can alienate true-blue barbecue lovers — and who wants to do that?
The location doesn't have enough space to operate
This isn't about the state or municipality in which you're hunting for barbecue. No; we're talking about the actual, physical placement of a barbecue restaurant. Smokehouses — unlike other types of eateries – require a certain degree and type of space to properly operate. Not just for the fire, but the giant duct or vent which releases the smoke. Whether restricted by zoning laws or the limits of architecture, a proper setup can't be located just anywhere.
A barbecue joint in the middle of a shopping mall, airport, or any other location not conducive to constant, billowing smoke might not be much of a barbecue place at all. What they're actually doing to the meat is braising, boiling, or using liquid smoke to replace genuine barbecue techniques (heaven help us). If there's one lesson which rings true, it's that there's no shortcuts in legit barbecue. Any eatery avoiding the sacred processes of "low and slow" — either by choice or structural circumstance — might be one to avoid when craving proper barbecue.