Texas BBQ has become something of an obsession of mine in recent years. I had lived in Texas for about 8 years before TJ Martin was kind enough to show me that I had not really ever eaten real BBQ during those 8 years, and opened my eyes to the Valhalla of smoked meats: Texas Hill-Country BBQ. One simple trip to Kruez Market changed everything, and turned me into one of the most hardcore BBQ aficionados/fanatics/snobs you will find anywhere.
Prior to that trip I thought I understood BBQ. I wouldn't get upset when people called any form of meat on a grill "BBQ" or when they put as much emphasis on sides as they would the meat. The quality of the sauce was usually more important than the quality of the meat, so much so that my list of favorite BBQ restaurants could also be substituted interchangeably for my list of favorite sauces. For that exact reason Rudy's was my favorite BBQ restaurant, and Smokey Mo's was always in a top 3-5 spot.
Following that fated trip to Kreuz, I made a few Hill Country BBQ commandments which hold pretty universally true:
- BBQ and Grilling are two totally separate things which should never be confused. Grilling consists of cooking food over a hot flame for a relatively quick period of time, with little to no smoke flavoring the meat. BBQ consists of meat (generally tougher, larger cuts of meat) smoked for hours on end over low slow heat that gives the smoke from natural wood a chance to flavor the meat the whole way through. Elite Texas BBQ will have a distinctive "smoke ring", which is to say a little pink ring that forms just below the surface of the meat. The larger the smoke ring (ie the further it goes towards the center), the more smoke flavor that has penetrated the meat. It's a sign of quality, and something many of the commercial places just don't have.
- Electronically regulated smokers make very consistent, and ultimately mediocre BBQ. I may need to dedicate an entire blog post to this point at a later point, but electricity and BBQ need to stay as far away from each other as possible.
- Sides are great filler. Which is to say the quality of an elite BBQ restuarant's sides should garner absolutely no consideration in how good that establishment is as a BBQ restaurant. At a place like Cooper's or Snow's even the world's best side dish would play second fiddle to the meat on hand, and is likely just going to fill you up and prevent you from eating as much 'cue as possible.
- Sauce should never be necessary. Unlike sides which you can completely forget about, a great restaurant will have sauce that perfectly complements the meat rather than overpowering it, or offer absolutely no sauce at all (like Kruez). The salty rub, smokey flavor, and luscious fat shouldn't need anything to enhance it, but if you would like a little extra twang, sweetness, or acidty, a dash of sauce can never hurt.
- The bewitching hour takes place between 11:30am and 1pm. If you want great BBQ at it's greatest, you get your ass up early on a Saturday or Sunday (some places closed Sunday), and get there between 11:30-1.
- Great BBQ is found in the middle of bumfucknowhere. As in, if you are living in a city with more than 20,000 inhabitants, your BBQ isn't bound to be great. As a clause to this statement, all great BBQ is found in cities that start with an L: Llano, Lexington, Lockhart, Luling.
The drive down 71 is leisurely and beautiful when heading northwest. You roll through some of the most beautiful scenery in the Hill Country, completely undisturbed with the exception of a few towns passing you on either side. The 1.5 hour drive is an absolute pleasure on a beautiful day, and when done during the late spring (April through mid May) you catch the scenery at it's peak, lush and green, with the hillside covered with wildflowers ranging from golden to burnt orange to blue and purple.
Upon arriving in Llano you can smell the BBQ coming down the street. If you arrive at the right time you may almost pass the building on your left, but at peak hours you can see the line wrapping around the corner and zoo of a parking lot. Luckily we arrived at the absolute right moment, about 12:50 when there were no lines and ample parking.
Upon arriving you line up at final pit to choose what kind of 'cue you want that day. Unlike most any other BBQ restaurant you have ever been to, there isn't a sign or list of prices directly in front of you, but rather the pit itself. And you get to choose what cuts you want and how much. Your myriad of choices can range everywhere from Sausage (the only thing on their menu I will warn you to stay as far away from as possible) to beef ribs to brisket to sirloin to prime rib to half chickens to pork loins to pork chops to pork ribs to cabrito (goat) and probably a few other things.
The man running the pit will usually determine how much you want of each meat by signaling the amount he is going to slice with his meat fork and knife. You can either tell him to move up or down (more or less), or ask for an approximate weight for him to slice. Once sliced you can have it "sauced" and dunk the BBQ lightly into their very thin, vinegary BBQ sauce before slapping it on a tray. You then take said tray, walk inside, and hand it to one of the slicers who goes to town weighing and slicing your delectable selections with an electric knife (think Thanksgiving Turkey slicer). You can also buy sides in there, but as I alluded to earlier, I have no idea why you would want anything other than an ice cold Shiner (Bock OR Blonde) and a pickle.
After all 5 of us sat down, we compared our hauls like kids comparing their candy bags after Halloween night. The spread ranged from the self controlled (at about $24 for their plate) to the gluttonous ($41 for the plate plus a few beers and a pickle). Guess where I fell into this all? It may sound a bit expensive, but in reality you are getting a few meal's worth out of this trip, if you can keep yourself from eating 2 pounds of pork and brisket in one sitting.
The ribs were the first to go. This is crucial for all you newbies out there. When your eyes are bigger than your stomach, you need to determine what will travel well and what won't. As a general rule of thumb, ribs should always be enjoyed on premise. Their incredibly moist falling off the bone without being mush texture is a fleeting gift. Every minute off the grill lessens that magic just a bit, and if you bring it home and try to rewarm it later you've lost most of what made it so great in the first place. So back to the point... the things that carry well, in order of worst transportability to most transportability: Ribs (Beef or Pork), Prime Rib/Sirloin/Ribeye, Brisket, Pork Loin/Chops, Poultry, Sausage.
The ribs were perfectly smoked, tender, and salty. One of the better batches I've ever had at Cooper's, which is quite a hefty feat. The bark was tremendous on these ribs, and miraculously they didn't get stuck in my teeth (which can happen if they are overcooked and mushy or undercooked and tougher than they should be).
The brisket, as always, was a nearly religious experience. It's really the reason I have made that drive 10 times, and what no one else (besides Snow's) get close to doing. You haven't had brisket until you've had Cooper's. And you haven't had Cooper's Brisket until you've had a nice cut of the bark. Bark, for you newbs, is the crusty bit on the outside that contains all of the seasoning rub, fat, and smoke flavor concentrated into a nub. It looks black (like bark on a tree), is a bit crunchy, and still incredibly moist at the same time. It's flavor overload. As Zach said after I shared a bit of my bark end with the group, "This is the greatest thing I have ever put in my mouth."
We were also blessed with the most tender pork loin/chop I've ever had at Cooper's. Truth be told I'm not going to elaborate much further because we've covered the best of it, and when I get down to the pork I'm so damn overwhelmed by the awesomeness there isn't much more than "this is also life-changing."
One word of warning: Don't get the sausage at Coopers. It sucks. Miraculously they crank out the best BBQ on planet Earth, top to bottom, but have horrible BBQ sausage. Just don't do it, and trust me on this one. If you want sausage, any of the other elite places will not disappoint. Coopers will give you some smoked Johnsonville brat.
So we finished the meal and meat coma (also known as the "itis" in some circles) set in. Zach was about passed out from the minute he got up. Paige and Tommy became goofy like they were on laughing gas. Adam and I were cool as a cucumber, which is to say a sodium, smoke, and fat induced body high took over and I existed in some state between the two, but still some altered state of being. Consensus from the group was that Coopers far exceeded any expectations, firmly planting it as I would like to describe it as a "life changing experience". Adam's family owned a BBQ restaurant in Houston for 70 years before it burnt down, but I would love to try his dad's grub anytime I can as a point of comparison. Sounds like a fat kid field trip to me?
We walked out past the pits, got in our car...and went to DQ. Yes, DQ and had some blizzards before hopping back on the road and driving the fat kids home. I strongly suggest you also do the DQ post BBQ. It's a ritual around these parts, and a right of passage.
So that sums it up. Cooper's = best ever. DQ = night cap.
From one fat kid to another: happy feasting.
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