“Take me back to Black’s," our first stop in Lockhart, the Barbecue Capital of Texas

Black's Barbecue

Editor's note: Barbecued Adventures will be relaunched in early 2014 with new posts about barbecue, pitmasters and related travel. This post dates back to Feb. 6, 2011. Thank you for reading and place come back often.





The sign outside Black’s Barbecue says they’re open “8 days a week.”

Back in February of 1965, the Beatles released a single of the same title. Thirty-three years earlier, Edgar Black Sr. and a partner opened a little meat market in Lockhart, Texas.

In those days before refrigeration, it became necessary to cook and sell already cut meat as barbecue.

According to their web site, Norma Black, daughter-in-law to the original owner, says of the sign outside the main entrance at 215 N. Main St., "If you're here as much as we are, you find a few extra days in that time ... It's easier to remember when we're closed -- Thanksgiving and Christmas -- than when we're open."

Today, we are thankful for that. Black’s remains as popular as ever and is the oldest barbecue restaurant that has been continuously operated by the same family in the state of Texas.

Step inside and as you wait in line, you’re immersed in the history of Black’s and, to some extent, Texas.

Fresh with a degree from Texas A&M, Edgar Black Jr. and his wife took over the place in 1949 after his father died suddenly. They were going to run it until they could find another family member to take it over.

You know you're in Texas in Black's dining room.

Pictures on the wall show their life together and introduce us to a family that is now operating the restaurant into its fourth generation, after 80 years.

Also up on the wall to your right are framed photos of local visiting celebrities. There are pictures of former Texas Gov. Ann Richards and the 36th president of the United States, Lyndon Johnson, who asked the Blacks to serve their sausage on the grounds of the U.S. Capital.

To your left are windows, where you jealously watch the fortunate ones who already are digging in.

When you reach the vegetables at the salad bar and steam table, you realize that you’re here for more than a history lesson. Deviled eggs. Pinto beans. Black-eyed peas. Cole slaw. Potato salad.

It’s all freshly made. Just like the brisket.

According to the Blacks, Edgar, Jr. was one of the first barbecue places in the country to exclusively use the brisket cut of beef. They say others copied them.

While I won’t enter that debate, I will say that Edgar Jr.’s recipe to cook briskets coated in a combination of black pepper, salt and spices, over oak logs for 24 hours, is delectable.

Next time, we’ll have to try the turkey. Or the chicken. Or the ham. The only blemish on our experience was my wife’s pork ribs, which were a little dry (but then this is Texas).

In recent years, in response to “a lot of people from the North,” Norma Black created a sauce for the meat, which I tried. A young barbecue aficionado from nearby Austin recommended that I also use the Ghost Chili sauce, which I did not find as hot as expected.

I first learned of Black’s Barbecue thanks to the Travel Channel’s “Barbecue Paradise” program. But it also has received considerable national recognition in outlets such as the New York Times, Texas Monthly, Bon Appetit and Gourmet (which it has outlasted). You’ll find all the video and articles online at their web site at www.blacksbbq.com.

The bumper stickers say, “Take Me Back to Black’s.” I only wish it weren’t so far away from where we live, in Indiana.

Location we visited:
Black's Barbecue
215 North Main Street
Lockhart, Texas
888-632-8225 

Lockhart, Texas: “The Barbecue Capital of Texas”

Caldwell County Courthouse

Editor's note: Barbecued Adventures will be relaunched in early 2014 with new posts about barbecue, pitmasters and related travel. This post dates back to Feb. 1, 2011. Thank you for reading and place come back often.

According to official sources, the town of Lockhart, Texas, is home to the state’s oldest public library and the oldest Protestant church.

The Caldwell County Courthouse aptly is listed in the National Registry of Historic Places.

On the map, Lockhart would seem to be another small Texas town, located about 45 minutes south of Austin and about 90 minutes north of San Antonio.

On the day we visited, the downtown square resembled the sleepy Texas town depicted in the Academy Award-winning drama, "The Last Picture Show." Sadly, many shops were closed that Wednesday, including the consignment shop my wife wanted to inspect, as well as the bakery on the square. Some local teens, accompanied by an old hound dog, aimed us to a place for ice cream on this warm afternoon.

The 1996 Christopher Guest comedy "Waiting for Guffman" and the 1993 Academy Award nominated drama "What's Eating Gilbert Grape(starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Johnny Depp)" were filmed here, including at the historic courthouse square. The city's Wal-Mart store was used in the 2000 Natalie Portman film "Where The Heart Is."

But where I had seen Lockhart before had been on television.

The fourth episode of the Travel Channel’s “Food Wars” series featured a barbecue and family debate between two local joints, Kreuz Market and Smitty's Market. Together with Black’s Barbecue – the oldest such restaurant in the state to be operated by the same family – and Chisholm Trail Bar-B-Que, the town has been dubbed “The Barbecue Capital of Texas.”

By the Texas Legislature, no less, in 1999. Until recently, that’s also what it said on the welcome sign as you entered town on Highway 183. It's what drew us here.

Although it only has a population of about 12,900, an estimated 23,000 people eat at Lockhart’s four barbecue restaurants each week – or about 1.2 million a year (as reported in the state travel guide).

Diners at Black's Barbecue

So it is no surprise that Mayor Lew White closes the deal when describing his community on the city’s web site by saying that it has, “above all, the best tasting barbecue to be found anywhere!”

His statement is debatable, but from the moment we entered town, we knew we had entered into a historic place, a destination worthy of its billing. Over the next few postings, I’ll present each one of them individually, with the exception of Chisholm Trail (admittedly an oversight), which one local told me was “the new kid on the block.”

But there was only so much barbecue we could eat in one day.

Rudy's: The "Worst" Bar-B-Q in Texas

Editor's note: Barbecued Adventures will be relaunched in early 2014 with new posts about barbecue, pitmasters and related travel. This post dates back to Jan. 23, 2011. Thank you for reading and please come back often.


While Frommer’s says there are more than 90 barbecue restaurants in the greater San Antonio area, you’ll want to head several miles north to Leon Springs, at the edge of the Hill Country, to Rudy's, where you can fill up your gas tank, pick up a gallon of milk and find some of the best beef brisket and pork ribs for miles.

Even if the people at Rudy’s say it’s the “Worst Bar-B-Q in Texas.”

It is hard to believe that this place only has been serving barbecue since 1989. The environment at Rudy’s Country Store has a nostalgic feel about it, from the hot, freshly hand-sliced meat served simply on brown paper placed inside soda delivery trays to the large ice buckets that keep the beer and sodas cold.

Thankfully, the nutritionists haven’t led Rudy’s to trim the blackened fat from the meat, which is so tender that it melts in your mouth. My grandfather wouldn’t have needed his dentures to eat here.

A plaque near the entrance tells the story of founder Mack “Doc” Holiday, who died in 2007.

“Doc put his own unique touch into an existing neighborhood general store and gas station called ‘Rudolph’s’ and helped to create a true ‘Barbecue Joint’ like the roadside barbecue stands he used to frequent as a kid,” the plaque reads.

“Through the years and with the growth of additional locations, Doc continued to put his unique touch on everything, including our team members and guests that have been and continue to be a part of Rudy’s,” it continues.

“He believed that good barbecue is a celebration, especially when it is shared with family and friends. Doc always had a smile for everyone and his hospitality served as a role model for all of us. Doc will be missed but not forgotten by all those he touched through his words and barbecue.”

It is obvious that the people carrying on Doc’s legacy have taken these words to heart. I asked someone why they serve the “worst” barbecue and not the best. I was told that everyone else says they serve the best barbecue, but at Rudy’s they never give up on trying to make it better.

A sign near the fire pit says, “Don’t tell us how good it is. Just come back with your friends and family.”

I wish I could come here more often.

Be sure to try their creamed corn, which is made according to their own recipe, as well as their sausage. They use fresh peaches in their cobbler.

There are now nearly 30 Rudy’s locations across Texas and in Colorado, Oklahoma and New Mexico. I can’t vouch for any of the other locations, but if they’re half as good as the original, they’re worth stopping for.

Location we visited:
Rudy's Country Store

24152 W. IH 10
San Antonio, Texas

210-698-2141

Brisket, ribs and sausage. It's all good.

Another Food Blog Begins, Roll Tide

Editor's note: Barbecued Adventures will be relaunched in early 2014 with new posts about barbecue, pitmasters and related travel. This post dates back to Jan. 5, 2011. Thank you for reading and please come back often.

For many of us Yankees, it’s hard to believe that barbecue existed before authors like Steven Raichlen, Chris Schlesinger and John Willoughby started the current wave toward making barbecue a national obsession. And before the Food Network and the Travel Channel.

But in reality, many good people had sought the proper alchemy between wood, fire, smoke and their choice of meat for centuries.

For me, a nearly lifelong resident of Indiana, it took a leap of faith to discover a cuisine that consumes me – my first job in journalism at the Birmingham News in 1985. My good friend and Louisville native Joe Kiefer encouraged me to follow him there, where a deeply ingrained and historic way of life still led to fascinating news copy.

It also led me to Dreamland, Jim n’ Nick’s Bar-B-Q, Golden Rule and the Hickory Pit. There also was that great little pulled pork place in Clanton, Ala., where a policeman shot himself (he was wearing his bullet-proof vest) to gain sympathy after his wife embezzled more than a $100,000 from the city – that was my first breaking news story.

Every time there’s a home University of Alabama football game on ESPN, the announcers have to remind me how privileged they were to venture out to the sticks for some good ribs and beer at Dreamland.

A favorite moment from my two years in ‘Bama was when friends drove through a rare snowstorm to bring numerous racks of Dreamland ribs (pork ones of course) from Tuscaloosa to Birmingham (an hour’s drive each way) so we could consume them at halftime of a televised game with the University of Kentucky.

Unfortunately, a managing editor with Machiavellian tendencies contributed to my abrupt and hasty departure from the Magic City. (In a delicious twist of fate, he later went from being the No. 2 person in the newsroom to heading the paper’s advertising “Flyer Program”).

But I’ve never lost that love for pulled pork, smoked quail, barbecued chicken, ribs and every sauce imaginable. I’ve added to it a craving for beef brisket, sausages with natural casings, smoked catfish and mutton. As a Greek, I’d like to think that roast lamb belongs in this list as well.

A recent road trip through Illinois, Missouri, Tennessee, Arkansas and Texas sparked my decision to begin this blog. My wife Donna’s idea to do a barbecue version of “Julie and Julia” didn’t seem practical and my family doctor would not have approved. But I will bring you along, starting with our latest journey.

Don’t read this on an empty stomach.

Carry out from Hank's Smoked Brisket in Indianapolis

When he was a manager at General Motors’ Allison Transmission factory, Hank Fields used to ship parts all over the country. Today, he makes barbecue lovers from coast-to-coast happy when he ships beef brisket made in his smokehouse on Indianapolis’ near north side.

Just a couple weeks back, Fields (pictured here), owner of Hank’s Smoked Brisket, shipped some of his meat to someone in Arizona, following other orders to people in Washington, D.C. and California.

But most people simply stop by the carry-out restaurant located at 3736 Martin Luther King Jr. Dr., and take it with them. If you want to eat it there, you’ll have to take it out to the car.

That’s probably as far as it goes for some people, who can’t wait to eat it before getting home. He estimates that 98 percent of his customers walk out with brisket.

"They get other items, you know ribs, baby backs, spare ribs, chicken, sausage links. They get all the other meat, but you can always betcha they’re going to walk out of here with some brisket," Fields said proudly. "We don’t try to attest ourselves as being the best in the state of Indiana, but we do pretty decent."

We first learned about Hank’s Smoked Brisket from a fellow customer at Squealer’s north side location, who told me, "If you want good brisket, you’ve got to go down to Hank’s."

Originally from Henderson, Texas, a city of about 12,000 people about 120 miles east of Dallas, Fields moved to Indianapolis in February of 1973. He has been cooking barbecue only for about 10 years.

Surprisingly, he did not grow up in a family that barbecued. Instead, he developed a taste for the stuff in friends’ smokehouses while he was growing up.

"There were people around in the surrounding community who used to do smoking," Fields explained. "They had their own smokehouse and everything. They would just leave it hanging out in the smoke house, go out and cut what they wanted off it and eat what they wanted to eat and leave the rest of it hanging.

"See, here we don’t worry about brisket going bad or anything when we smoke it," he added. "Matter of fact, occasionally I might leave a couple of them out for a day or two before I put them in the cooler, and they just get better with age. But for the most part, the brisket only lasts around here for about three to four days -- they gone."

He started out selling barbecue at football games in Indianapolis, using a smoker he had built in Texas. It also was a period of testing out and refining his recipes and technique.

"I started out in a trailer, smoking meat and going out to football games," he recalled. "After that, it was all basically trial and error, finding out what works. It took a few years to find out how it works, what makes it work and what makes it come out good."

In 2004, he opened Hank’s Smoked Brisket in a building he had constructed that also houses a barber shop and beauty salon. "I more than likely perfected it now, but it still gets better," he said of his brisket, which is smoked eight to 12 hours over mesquite wood.

During the year-end holidays, Fields also smokes and sells turkeys and rib eye steaks, which he said "probably are better than the brisket."

During our visit, we ordered brisket, baby back ribs and the chopped pork. Helping to seal the deal was the delicious brisket samples that his right-hand employee, Brenda (pictured right), sliced for us. She makes all the deserts and the potato salad.

In its July cover story about the Circle City’s BBQ, Indianapolis Monthly noted, "Other barbecue joints feature brisket, but few give it the front-and-center attention that it gets at Hank Fields’ Texas barbecue takeout … Fields' signature cut is obviously treated with respect, dressed only with a mild, slightly tangy sauce he says is 'suitable for old men.'"

While I might disagree with the magazine’s assessment of other places featured in the article, not so with Hank’s Smoked Brisket.

Fields has never done competitions and says he never will. "My competition is for you to go somewhere else and come visit Hank," he said plainly.

For many other places in Indy, the competition may be for honorable mention, particularly when it comes to brisket.

Word of mouth takes us to Jucy’s, Texas Bar-B-Q in Kentucky

According to a recent study from the University of Michigan, about $86 billion is spent each year on advertising in the United States. But often the best form of advertising is done by word of mouth.

During a recent visit to Mark’s Feed Store barbecue restaurant in Louisville (see my earlier review), we were enthusiastically steered by another customer to a place in nearby LaGrange, Ky., -- Big R’s Bar-B-Q.

Making our way there for dinner on July 4, we were disappointed to find Big R's closed while it moved to a new location.

Undaunted, we went to the nearest gas station to ask the locals for other recommendations. Go to another eight miles down the road to a place in PeWee Valley called Jucy’s, we were told.

We wouldn’t be disappointed, they said.

Our only regret is that we didn’t meet Tommy Hiltzman, also known as “The Jucy Man.” Jucy’s takeout menu and web site make a point of encouraging you to “step up and meet The Jucy Man himself.”

If we had, we would have thanked the Longview, Texas, native for making some of the best beef brisket that we’ve had since leaving the Lone Star State.

According to an employee and the company bio, Hiltzman, frustrated that he couldn’t find good brisket around Louisville, decided to open up his own place in 1994 with his wife Donna.

In August of 1996, they opened Jucy’s along a railroad line at 7626 LaGrange Road (also state road 146).

After you walk in the door, to your left will be something you don’t see as often in Indiana – a steam table with a short cafeteria line. Instead of sitting down and waiting for a waitress, customers wait in line and make their selections.

In addition to beef brisket, Jucy’s also serves pork ribs, pulled pork and chicken, smoked turkey breast and their honey ham. Jucy’s also sells smoked pork tenderloin by the pound. On Mondays, they serve all-you-can-eat ribs (but not on holidays like July 4).

My only complaint is that they weigh your meat on a scale right in front of you – which left me wanting more, particularly after the first bite.

The wood piles outside provide ample proof that your dinner is smoked on the premises. We were told that they smoke the meats slowly over hickory for hours – including beef brisket for 16 hours. The smoker is located, under lock and key, to the left of the main entrance and its pipe extends through the roof.

What we found was that Hiltzman achieved his objective. However, as we experienced in Texas, the beef was superior to the pork ribs, which we found to be somewhat dry and stringy.

However, we also are confident that we would find them even better on another night. Since returning to Bloomington, I’ve be told as much by a few people I trust who’ve also eaten at Jucy’s.

More good word-of-mouth advertising -- although next time we want to try Big R's.