Part One:

How to Become a Vegetarian in Two Months, A Carnivorous Journey Across Texas

It’s no secret I have a competitive streak. Ask my kids. I was never the mom who let them win. Nah, suck it up kids, this is real life. From card games to dominoes to go-kart racing, I showed no mercy. I recognize it’s not my most charming characteristic, so I do my best to keep it at bay. But sometimes you find yourself at the company holiday party with your teenage sons and there’s a ping-pong table. And that ignites a small fire inside of you. And the next thing you know you are racing to the car for your mud boots so you’ll have traction in the grass for the tug-of-war competition. My team won. And one thing leads to another and ultimately you are in a dress on a mechanical bulldog. I’d known this was a possibility, and concerned about flashing my coworkers, I’d worn gym shorts under my dress. Which, turns out, was to my advantage. The dress part. Everyone in pants quickly slid off. Even the big tough men. My mostly bare legs gave me the grip necessary to hold on. Add in sheer determination and guess who won? 88 seconds, baby. Yee-haw!

IMG_4576.jpg
A couple months ago my man-friend returned from a Saturday afternoon motorcycle ride with a copy of “Top 50 BBQ Joints, Texas USA Passport.” Being a true lover of BBQ he was excited to have a handy almost-pocket-sized guide and was already looking forward to many smoked meat inspired road trips. But he hadn’t really studied it yet, and didn’t realize it was more than just a list of the Top 50. I inspected it further and realized it was way more than that. Texas Monthly has been crowning BBQ joints since 1973, but to my knowledge this is the first time they’ve turned it into a full on challenge, complete with prizes. Teamed up with Yeti, they produced a charred brown 25-page passport with descriptions of all Top 50 establishments, and ten specific challenges from “New Kids on the Block” to BBQ Challenge #1: “Top 50 Joints.” Smack dab in the middle is a grid of fifty squares, and just like when you visit another country and get your passport stamped, each time you visit one of the Top 50 (and trust me, some of them feel like they are in another country), they’ve got a sticker for your book. Each challenge earns its own reward, culminating with the grand prize for hoofing it to every last one on the list: a behemoth Yeti Tundra 45, more than adequate for all the leftovers you’ll accumulate along the way. Now, if you haven’t noticed, Texas is a big state. Even the most motivated participant would be hard pressed to make it to all 50 locations. Luckily the timeframe for the contest is until 12/31/2020. Or until prizes run out. Intrigued, my competitive nature sparked, I found myself slightly irritated that he hadn’t grabbed one for me.

FullSizeRender.jpg

Before I go any further, I have a confession. I like BBQ. I don’t love it. I’m all about a tender fall-off-the-bone pork rib, or some juicy smoked yard bird, but truth be told, I’d be good with it a few times a year. And at the risk of being totally discredited, brisket is just not my thing. I have learned to appreciate it, but it is far from my go-to meat. Maybe because I wasn’t born in Texas, maybe it’s not in my veins. Given all that, I’m sure you’ll want to take my musings with a grain of salt, or possibly a pound of dry rub. And that’s fair. I am admittedly a far cry from a barbeque expert and don’t ever aspire to be. But I do love to eat. I live for road trips. And obviously I am all about a challenge. So consider this more a tale of my endurance. I do wonder though, not being a BBQ junkie to begin with, at the end of this, will I have a newfound love of it, or will I cringe at the mere suggestion of it? Which brings me to my first complaint with this here contest. Legally, no purchase is required to receive a sticker. All you have to do is physically go to the location and stand in line. Do you realize what this means? A dad-gum vegan could win this thing. Mind you, I might become a vegan by the end of it all, but seriously? The fact that someone could win this challenge without smoked meat ever crossing his or her lips is downright sacrilege. And in a sick way, kinda makes me laugh. Confession #2: There’s a slightly twisted part of me that would get a kick out of crossing the finish line without eating a single piece of meat. But, nah, I vow to give it my all, brisket included, and go for the prize, pride in tact. Let the games begin.

Saturday, 7th of October, 2017.

The eve of my 44th birthday. Man-friend needed pipe-tobacco and I needed a night on the town. Tobacco procured in New Braunfels, we found ourselves hungry in San Marcos, which happens to be home of Hays Co. Bar-B-Que. Even though it’s less than an hour away from our stomping grounds, neither of us had heard of it before. But it was on the list and a perfect place for me to start my journey. To say we were both impressed would be an understatement. The ribs were melt-in-your-mouth perfection, the chicken was sublime, and the sauce was Texas nectar. Who knew we had such a gem right down the road? Problem was, they were out of passports. So, I got my first sticker, but had nowhere to stick it. With it safely tucked away in my change purse, sure that I’d get a passport at the next joint, we set off to ring in my big day.

IMG_8612

Tuesday, 10th of October, 2017.

Road trip to Colorado, en-route destination: Pody’s BBQ in Pecos, TX. Just this past weekend I met a fellow BBQ traveller who grew up in Pecos. My cohort and I both reflected what life might have been like twenty or so years ago in that remote Texas town. Because believe you me, things have changed. Pecos has been brutalized by the non-stop heavy traffic of the oil business. But if the work trucks lined up in the parking lot were any indication, Pody’s was certainly benefitting from the influx. We arrived shortly after opening and stood in line for twenty minutes, give or take. We placed our order, and then encountered an unexpected problem. My companion had forgotten his passport back in the Hill Country. He hadn’t worried about it because he figured he’d just collect stickers and put them in his book upon our return. Well, Pody’s didn’t have stickers. They had their own customized stamp. (Pro-Tip: Don’t leave home without your passport!) Lucky for me, they had a passport and I got my stamp right away. Not wanting to start over, he was stumped. Fortunately, at that moment, the cashier remembered she had one last sticker tucked away in the register. Disaster averted. Until the next stop… (What if they only had stamps?) Anyway, back to the food. I wish I could say I remembered it better. I wish I could describe it with ease. But alas, all I can recall is that it was really good, not mind blowing, but damn fine BBQ. Word on the street is that the sauce is super spicy. Maybe I was too conservative with it, but it seemed barely “medium” to me. And yeah, the green chile pozole is the bomb. I can’t say I’d drive to Pecos for barbecue, but I would definitely consider stopping for some next time I’m passing through. I do, however, recommend taking care of business elsewhere, either before or after. It’s a one-holer struggling to keep up. Just sayin’.

IMG_8620_2

Wednesday, 18th of October, 2017.

Return trip from Colorado. Mission: Tyler’s BBQ in Amarillo by opening at 11am, Evie Mae’s in Lubbock, Stillwater in Abilene, and the long shot, Cooper’s in Llano by closing at 8pm. Ambitious to say the least, but theoretically possible. We got a three hour head start and stayed the night in Santa Fe. In order to be in Amarillo by opening, and more importantly–make Cooper’s by closing–we had to leave no later than 6:30am. And we were on track to do just that. But then I realized our super awesome hotel that we’d spent way too little time in was offering free breakfast. And despite the fact we were going to eat at potentially FOUR BBQ JOINTS in one day, I was hungry right then. Thirty minutes and a lovely buffet later and we were on the road.

I don’t remember our exact location when this occurred, but somewhere along the great expanse of New Mexico my companion realized we’d failed to take into account time zones. Heading east meant we were going to lose an hour before arriving in Amarillo. Now an hour and a half behind schedule, we trudged on. At 12:30 we pulled into Tyler’s Bar-B-Que. Fortunately my complimentary breakfast was good and gone so I was good and ready for lunch. That said, we were both well aware of the need to pace ourselves so we ordered conservatively. At the check out we met Tyler himself. I can’t say enough good things about Tyler. He was more than welcoming, talked to us like there was no one else in line, and shared stories of his beginnings back in our neck of the woods at the Dripping Springs Founder’s Day BBQ cook off. And, most importantly, he had passports. Resigned to start over rather than risking another sticker outage, my companion grabbed a new one and made peace with his predicament. Feeling right at home we sat down with our tray of meat. My rib was delish and tender. The brisket was tasty, albeit a bit on the dry side, which is actually why I was drawn to it. So yeah, all you lovers of moist meat, don’t listen to me. But the chicken. Sweet Jesus, the yard bird was divine. I even ate the skin. Well done, Tyler, well done!

IMG_8769

As much as I was tempted to linger, we had a mission to accomplish. Next stop: Evie Mae’s in Lubbock. Some may be inclined to judge a BBQ joint by the building itself, by the years of accumulated smoke, the smoldering pits. If that’s where you set your bar, then don’t bother with Evie Mae’s. It’s in a brand new brick building that may as well be a nail salon from the outside. We got there just before 3pm and they were down to slim pickings. Not to worry, this was meal number three and all we needed was a snack. Loaded up with a to-go box of burnt ends, chili cheese grits, Topo Chicos, and something I can’t quite make out in the photo, we passed on the decadent dessert counter, made note of the generous tub of free beer, took advantage of their clean new facilities and hit the road. Somewhere en route to Abilene we managed to find space in our bloated bellies to give it all a taste test. Suffice it to say, burnt ends and chili cheese grits are a match made in heaven. Bravo Evie Mae! Now, I can’t for the life of me imagine myself back in Lubbock, but if ever that’s the case, I’ll be hitting them up. Earlier in the day with a hearty appetite.

IMG_8773

On to Abilene and Stillwater BBQ. One of the individual challenges in the passport, Challenge #3, is all about Pastrami. And according to the book, Stillwater is one of the producers of said pastrami. Which was music to our ears since, yeah, we were pretty dang full up for the day and that sounded like a nice change. Something to get to-go and have for leftovers. Well, there was no pastrami to be found. It wasn’t even listed on the menu. Add to that, the folks at the counter were about as friendly and welcoming as a box of rocks. Frustrated and full, we opted for the brisket mac-n-cheese, didn’t even snap a photo, and made a beeline for Llano. For the record, the mac-n-cheese was pretty freaking awesome, and I still don’t know what the story is on the pastrami, or lack of. Misprint in the passport maybe? Carry on.

And for the grand finale of the day: Cooper’s Old Time Pit BBQ in Llano. Could we possibly make it in time? We’ve both eaten there before. My cohort considers it one of his top 5, if not his numero uno. But that night it was most definitely not about the BBQ, or the experience. It was 100% about the sticker. We skidded into the parking lot at 8:15. They closed at 8:00. Lights were still on. The rules say no purchase necessary, and as much as that irks me, there in the thirteenth hour on the road and fourth stop of the day, I no longer cared. I boldly walked through the door and begged. I assured them I did not expect to be fed; they could go about their cleaning and get the hell outta Dodge. But please, could we have two stickers? Relieved we weren’t trying to prolong their already long day, the man at the counter gladly forked over a couple stickers. And we guiltlessly drove the rest of the way home.

It was sometime during or shortly after this particular marathon of meat that I began to realize this was no longer about the BBQ. At least not for me. But was it ever really? Anyway, point is, even if it had been about the meat, it was time to admit that the way we were going about this was totally unfair to the BBQ joints themselves. Many times they were already sold out when we screeched in at the last second, and other times we were so stuffed there was no way in the world they had a fair shot at impressing us with their half-inch smoke ring. But to do this any other way, to really visit each and every joint with a fresh attitude and appetite, early enough in the day to avoid sell-outs, well, that really would take until 2020. At least. Yeah, no. This is about the journey, the challenge, the adventure. And if I eat some stellar meat along the way, all the better. Onward through the fat.

Monday, 23rd of October, 2017.

Spontaneous late night trek to Terry Black’s in Austin. Astounded by the amount of cars in the parking lot at 8pm on a Monday night we made our way into the line. The ridiculously long line. At 8pm on a Monday night. Did I mention that? There had to be no less than 50 people in front and ultimately behind us. Unbelievable. At…yeah, yeah. Not to worry though, because after a few short minutes it became crystal clear these folks knew how to handle a line of hungry customers. There was merch for sale around every turn. And then a self-serve freezer of hamburger patties made out of brisket. Ten patties for $10. Holy cow. And sausage, ten links for $10. Frozen meat in hand we made our way around the bend: self-serve beer. Bottles opened we shuffled towards the next temptation: a full-on cafeteria style, self-serve mecca of sides. Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard a tiny voice urging me to pace myself, but my eyes won out and I started scooping: potato salad, rice, green beans, cole slaw, banana pudding that didn’t look like something from 1978! What? Save room for the meat you say? Oh, yeah, the meat. I think I recall they were sold out of my faves, but never fear, there was brisket and sausage. I’m pretty sure I sampled those two items, and I’m pretty sure I liked the brisket just fine, but I was fairly overwhelmed with my overflowing tray of delectable sides. Terry Black’s, your rich history shines through. Congrats on an all-around top notch establishment and fantastic food to go along with it.

IMG_8802

Sunday, 29th of October, 2017.

Lucky for me, I live close enough to Austin to easily partake of all its live music and smoked meat splendor. Austin also happens to be home of the Yeti Flagship, the official headquarters of the Texas Top 50 Challenge, and the one and only place to redeem prizes. All that BBQ consumption was starting to pay off. With BBQ Challenge #7, “New Kids on the Block,” in the bag, we figured it was time for a trip to 220 South Congress Avenue. So even though it was after 3pm on a Sunday, the man-friend and I set out to collect our loot. It is nothing short of mind-blowing what Yeti has become in eleven short years. What started out as a cooler has transformed into an icon, an empire. I am simultaneously in awe and yet also repulsed by the blind brand-conscious consumerism. I do have a tumbler (that I very much enjoy), but I’ve got my cohort to thank for that. Pretty much anything with the Yeti emblem is out of my price range, which is just fine because I’d be hard pressed to convince myself that I actually need anything they sell. That said, I’ll be the first to admit, I am looking forward to a badass cooler. In the meantime, the last thing I need is another cap. But damnit, I earned that thing, and by golly I needed something other than tight pants and clogged arteries to show for it. Anyhow, thirty minutes or so later we arrived at the Flagship. The store was brilliantly laid out, artfully designed, and left even cynical ol’ me drooling for gear I didn’t need. Hell, there’s even a bar out front. Yeti hats in hand, it was dinner time.

First stop: la Barbecue, “la,” for LeAnn, as in LeAnn Mueller, daughter of Bobby Mueller, who is more or less one of the Gods of BBQ. Needless to say, I had high expectations. I tried not to be turned off by the whole hipster vibe and bizarre juxtaposition of barbecue meets Asian food meets quickie mart meets coffee shop meets growlers to go. We stuck with the basics and ordered brisket, turkey, and pickles, which, by the way, looked out of this world. After limp-kerosene-soaked-hamburger-dill chip after chip I wanted so badly to love these pickles. But holy mother of god they were flipping spicy. Now, I’m not into melt-your-tongue-off spice, but neither am I a wimp when it comes to heat. But these were too much. And way too salty to boot. Disappointed I hadn’t found the perfect pickle, I dug into the meat. Which was really yummy. But for the daughter of Bobby Mueller, well, it’s probably safe to say I set the bar too high. This is one of those spots that, years (decades?) from now, when I might actually want BBQ again, simply for the sake of eating BBQ, I’d like to give it another shot.

IMG_8863

A short jaunt across town and we found ourselves at Stiles Switch. To tell the truth, I can’t remember if we made our choices because they were sold out of certain things, or if we were just happy to have other choices… My partner in carne opted for the Sunday special: wings, along with a serving of brisket and beans. Me, I was so excited to see cucumber and tomato salad I didn’t think twice. And just in case that was bordering on healthy, I added an order of fries. Granted we didn’t really get any traditional barbecue, all of what we did get was delicious. However, when offered a wing I confirmed my total distaste of buffalo sauce, but that’s neither here nor there. The building itself smelled as legit as it gets and they did a great job of creating an old school ambience. Again, if somewhere down the road I get an honest hankering for meat, I’d gladly come back to Stiles.

IMG_8867

Final Sunday stop: Freedmen’s. Wow, the building, the history, the whole dang atmosphere. Hip without being trendy or pretentious, raw and real, everything about Freedmen’s was refreshing and so very welcome to two weary BBQ travellers. First things first, a beverage. Freedmen’s prides itself on many things, one of which is its selection of cocktails. Mine is the one in the pic with the blackberry, coined: The Pie in the Sky. Yum. Their slogan is, “We smoke everything!” And they mean it. For an appetizer we ordered smoked beets, and whoa, they were amazeballs. Next we hit gold. The Sunday special was smoked salmon and we got the very last portion. Stuffed from the last two stops we sipped our libations and took the majority to go. Damn fine job, Freedmen’s, damn fine.

IMG_8875

Monday, 20th of November, 2017

Nearly a month since our last journey, a welcome respite from smoked anything (even beets), we set out on the Monday before Thanksgiving to check two more off the list. First up: Miller’s BBQ in Belton. I kept it simple, a pulled pork and cole slaw wrap and a slice of pie. My accomplice got smoked chicken salad and some other kind of meat that is now a distant memory. Running with the motto, “life is short, eat dessert first,” I took a bite of my pumpkin sopapilla cheesecake pie. STOP THE DANG PRESS. My eyes momentarily rolled back into my head, I took a deep breath, stood up, walked straight to the counter, and ordered two whole pies. From that moment on nothing else mattered. My wrap was good enough and the chicken salad was a refreshing change. But sweet baby Jesus, that pie. I could care less if these folks keep making barbecue, but for the love of all that is holy, don’t stop making pies.

IMG_9158

High on pie we headed to Taylor, home of Louie Mueller Barbecue. Louie, Bobby, & Wayne, I owe you an apology. I showed up late and not remotely hungry. You were down to bare bones and I settled for smoked chicken and a sticker. I could see and smell that I was in the midst of greatness, but, alas, I was incapable of truly appreciating the glory of your famous, “cathedral of smoke.” One day, I promise, I’ll be back. I have no doubt you’ll still be smoking.

Saturday, 25th of November, 2017.

As in, two days after Thanksgiving. Friday was spent in and out of a food coma and the farthest either of us travelled was from the bed to the fridge and back. Smoked meat was the furthest thing from my mind. Yet, at 8:38am Saturday morning, my cohort sprang out of bed and had the truck rumbling and waiting in less than five minutes. Today’s mission: Snow’s BBQ in Lexington. Only open on Saturdays, and only from 8-2. I ask you, who needs BBQ at 8am?? It’s not like they are selling tacos. Nevertheless, ten minutes later I climbed crusty-eyed into the truck and we set our course for the “Number One Brisket in Texas,” knowing full well we could show up to a sold out situation. But fortune was shining on us and we filed into the respectable but totally manageable line right around 10:30. Which seemed a tad bit early to partake of the self-serve keg of beer, but, hey, they were the ones offering BBQ at 8am, so who’s judging? Twenty minutes later and we made our selection: one rib, half a yard bird, a link of sausage, and a couple slices of that famous brisket. The chicken was wrapped up and saved for later (I think it’s still in my fridge). I’m pretty sure the sausage was snappy and delectable. But here’s the thing. I don’t really remember my rib. Because I took a bite of the brisket and, yeah, it’ll never be my go-to, but whoa. Truth be told, I took two bites. My first bite was, meh, take it or leave it. However, urged by my trusty BBQ aficionado to take a second bite, complete with the fatty strip at the top, I obliged. Ladies and gents, that was a whole new ballgame. I can’t say for certain that it deserves the coveted number one spot, but it damn sure impressed the hell outta me. Tootsie, you done well.

IMG_9160

Breakfast BBQ checked off the list, Blue Moon BBQ in Hearne was next on the agenda. Good thing I wasn’t hungry because this shack left a lot to be desired. Sorry Blue Moon, but folks, unless you are hell bent to get all Top 50 and need that sticker, or you live in the neighborhood, there is no reason to make the trek to Hearne. To be fair, the food wasn’t bad. Scratch that, the neon green key lime pie and mealy chocolate chip cookie were pretty much awful. But in fact, the brisket was quite tasty in its defiant deli thin way. However, definitely not Top 50 worthy. Quite frankly, I think it’s an insult to the other 49 joints, and even more so to the ones who didn’t make the cut, that Blue Moon is even on the list. They may very well be the “best BBQ on OSR,” but up there with the best in Texas, no way, no how. And god forbid your credit card has to be entered manually because the young girl at the counter didn’t know the difference between a zip code and an area code.

FullSizeRender-2

Next up on the East Texas tour: Fargo’s Pit BBQ in Bryan. My first impression was that the building seemed odd for a BBQ joint. And, in fact, it is. Originally a Western Sizzler, the etched glass partitions decorated with koi made it obvious that one of the more recent incarnations was a Chinese buffet. Fargo’s clearly hasn’t sunk much into the redecorating budget, but they have absolutely sunk a whole lot of soul and love into their food. Pitmaster Alan greeted us in front of the counter and managed to talk me into not one, but two ribs, sold my cohort on some fine looking sausage, and then warned us that the 8oz tub of collard greens was no where near enough for the two of us to share. He was right, and had either of us actually been hungry, I might have gone back for seconds.  Fargo’s may lack ambience, but they excel in customer service and deliver a solid selection of meats, sides, and desserts.

FullSizeRender-3

Wednesday, 29th of November, 2017.

My usual partner in carne was travelling for work and I was left to collect stickers on my own. I quite enjoy a solo road trip but I decided to call up a girlfriend to join me on this rather ambitious journey. I’d picked up a passport for her a few weeks prior and it had been sitting in my glove box ever since. It was high time it saw some action. I mapped out the agenda and informed her we’d be having BBQ for breakfast at Valentina’s. That morning she texted me and asked me what I was wearing. I chuckled. Only once, in all our BBQ travels, has my man-friend inquired about my attire, and it was quite simply to ascertain if my wardrobe was acceptable for the bike. Sadly, that day it wasn’t. My response to her was, “comfy and stretchy.” Outfitted in leggings, long sleeve shirt, and boots I picked her up in Austin. Knowing we had a long day ahead I arrived caffeinated and hungry. My man-friend had already been to Valentina’s and given it rave reviews so I was eagerly anticipating their pulled pollo taco and smoked corn. No dice. Breakfast tacos only until 11am. It was 10:22. I love a good breakfast taco, but that’s not what I came for. Momentarily thwarted, I then had what seemed like a perfectly simple solution. We’d circle around at the end of our route and hit them up for dinner. However, just in case we don’t make it back (yeah, you know the rules) can we have two stickers? In hindsight, it’s totally laughable. To think that I thought we’d actually want to eat there at the end of our day long sausage fest. And, you guessed it. It didn’t happen. But, I vow to go back. Even if it’s just for the corn.

IMG_9174

Disappointed but determined we drove straight to Kreuz Market in Lockhart, home of quite a few other famous BBQ joints. Yet somehow only Kreuz made the 2017 Top 50. I went to Black’s a few years ago and it was downright the real deal, totally top 50 worthy. So Kreuz must be out of this world. It certainly had a huge presence. The enormous red structure loomed over the parking lot and seemed to make no qualms about the fact that they sell a shit ton of meat. We made our way to the colossal pit room where the ladies at the counter were friendly and welcoming. By then we were both starving. But we knew we had our work cut out for us that day so we kept it light: one rib, one slice of brisket, and one link of sausage. I was interested in sides but they informed me those were in the next room. I assumed we’d carry our meat in there, add on the desired accouterments, and pay the bill. But that’s not how this place does things. They wanted payment for the meat first, there in the pit room. Strange, but ok. Confused by this unusual system I entered the adjacent room, where I quickly got near to the point of irritated that I was then expected to pick out sides that were barely visible and pay yet again. Maybe it was the hunger, but I gave up and sat down with our tray of meat. Which, quite frankly, did not impress. The rib required entirely too much effort and the brisket was good enough but far from mind blowing. I’m sure Kreuz is gonna keep on keeping on, but with their strange separation of meat and sides, and ribs that don’t fall off the bone, I’m sorry to say, I’m just not sold.

IMG_9176

Slightly less hungry, but considerably more disenchanted, we made our way down the road to Luling City Market. Another bizarre case of meat and side separation, we found our way to the comparably teeny tiny pit room with only mild confusion. After placing our simple order of two ribs and one slice of brisket we informed the extremely friendly guys behind the counter that we were sure hoping those ribs were better than the ones from Kreuz. They assured us we would not be disappointed. And then asked for cash. Luckily my partner du jour had some. Eager to see how little ol’ City Market stood up to the titan back in Lockhart we skipped the sides and sat down. One bite of the rib and it was no contest. Finally, a fall off the bone, well seasoned rib. And the sauce was damn near drinkable: tangy, spicy, just enough sweetness, mmmmm. Pour me a shot. Luling City Market, you definitely won me over.

IMG_9177

Continuing south we rolled into Gonzales, home of the battle from which the slogan “Come and Take It” was coined, and now home to Baker Boys BBQ who proudly proclaim, “Come and Taste It.” If I’ve learned one thing from these marathons, it’s this: three stops and I’m out. Even if all I’m eating is a rib at each joint. By the third meat counter I’ve almost always hit a wall and this day was no different. Fortunately the boys in Gonzales had chicken on the menu because that was the one thing that didn’t make me cringe. For what it’s worth, everything else on display looked legit and I’ll admit to being momentarily tempted by some potato and cheese concoction, but honestly I was more or less toast and, unlike the Texicans, ready to surrender. Yet somehow I managed to put down some poultry and then chased it with a few crappy pickles. Baker Boys, I apologize I didn’t really give you a fair shake, but I thank you for my sticker, and will positively send others to “Come and Taste It!”

IMG_9180

And there you have it, less than two months in, 19 stickers down, and it’s official. I’m sick of BBQ. My stomach actually recoils at the mere thought of smoked meat now. Remember my complaint about a vegan winning this thing? Yeah, well, I like fried eggs way too much to ever be a vegan, but holy cow y’all, my stomach is churning right now at the thought of consuming even one more rib. I am beginning to have serious doubts about my ability to see this through.

But I will not give up. I just need a new strategy. I may have to start bringing my own pickles, ’cause they really do help cut through the fat, and I can’t bear to eat another limp hamburger chip. No doubt I will have to focus more on the sides. I understand one of the joints in Houston has smoked okra, and believe it or not I’m already looking forward to the next road trip! In the meantime though, I’ll be living on salads.

Check back for Part Two!