Get Your Grill On

A few months ago, barbecue personality Remus Powers (Ardie Davis) wrote an article in the Bullsheet (the Kansas City Barbeque Society’s monthly newsletter) talking about the five rules that determine whether a barbecue joint is worth a visit. I mostly agree with those rules, as long as you apply them loosely. After visiting more than 100 barbecue joints for my guide to Northeast barbecue, I’ve developed a few of my own.

Can you smell any smoke?

If you can smell the smoke, it’s a good sign. For years I lived about a block from a Burger King and the fragrance each night was amazing, but that’s not what you want to smell. I’m talking about the sweet aroma of burning fruitwoods. When Blue Ribbon (W. Newton MA) still did their smoking onsite (it’s now done at an offsite commissary under owner Geoff Janowski’s supervision), I could smell it all the way from the treadmill at the gym next door and it would cut my workout time in half. Ideally, you shouldn’t smell the smoke as far as a block away, but notice it just before you walk in the restaurant’s front door. At Goody Cole’s (Brentwood NH) and Holy Smokes (W. Hatfield MA), I don’t always notice it that much while I’m there but can pick it up on my shirt after I get home. Burning wood means smoked meat. The joint might still not get it totally right, but at least you know they’re not cooking your ribs in an oven.

Do the other diner’s plates look good?

If it’s a sit down place where the hostess leads you to your table, do some advance scouting along the way by checking out the plates at other diner’s tables. Does the brisket look dry or juicy? Are the ribs meaty or thin? Is the pulled pork served in big chunk and long strings, or overmashed? Is the ‘cue too dependent on the sauce? I’m not saying you should leave based on your observations, but they might steer you into ordering the meat they do best, or possibly a fail-safe burger. I also like to look at other diner’s plates during and after the meal, as a sanity check. There’s always the chance that I just happened to wind up with a more-meaty, less-meaty, drier or wetter rack of ribs than is the norm.

Do they only serve babybacks?

If the restaurant’s menu says they only have babyback ribs, that’s cause for concern. Babybacks are great when they’re done right, but too often they’re just a shortcut. They’re already tender, so you could get away with just grilling them, which I’ve seen too often at barbecue restaurants. The greater risk is that they’re going to be the soggy, overcooked dreck that’s commonly served at all the chain restaurants. There are exceptions, of course. Buck’s Naked (Freeport ME) only serves babybacks and Willie B’s (Bay Shore NY) started out with just babybacks, but both joints completely defied the babyback stereotype, serving smoky, well-seasoned ‘cue that’s real and good.

Does the menu emphasize breadth over depth?

Barbecue joints that are heavy on breadth and light on depth scare me. By breadth, I mean a wider than wide-ranging menu full of non-barbecue items like pastas, salads, steaks, fish and the like. I understand the need to diversify the menu—it’s almost a necessity to attract the diverse customer base that can sustain the restaurant’s profitability. But straying too far from the barbecue basics can have two effects: less attention paid to the barbecue items and slower barbecue turnover. The first effect is self-explanatory, but the slower turnover could be even more devastating. Fresh ‘cue requires a large and steady volume. Adding all those other items may be good for business, but you may be hijacking your own customers and hurting your barbecue.

By depth, I mean barbecue options. Are there different cuts of pork ribs? Do they only serve beef ribs? Rib tips? Can you get sliced brisket and chopped brisket? Do they have burnt ends? Do they go beyond the basics and offer smoked pastrami, lamb or duck? Depth is a good sign, especially if they offer something out of the ordinary. What if there’s a glaring omission, like the lack of pulled pork at Hill Country (NYC) or the missing brisket at KC’s Rib Shack (Manchester NH)? If it means they’re focusing more attention on other meats instead, that’s okay. As long as it doesn’t mean more pasta.

Is there an open kitchen?

If there’s an open kitchen or anything close to it, that’s a good sign. I’m not saying that those who don’t have one always have something to hide, but some do. If you can follow the path your meat takes, from the time it leaves the smoker (ideally) or a holding bin (the next best thing) to the cutting board to the plate, you’ve got a high probability of getting good ‘cue. Sometimes you only get to see the last few steps, like at Lester’s (Burlington MA), Big W (Wingdale NY). Other times you have to peek through a window specifically designed for the voyeur, like at Q (Port Chester NY) or RUB (NYC). I’m a big fan of the grillside table at East Coast Grill (Cambridge MA), where you can sit within arm’s reach of the warming racks of ribs and spit-cooked chickens, observing the entire operation from the fry cooks to the grill team.

Is the joint near the ocean or in a tourist area?

I haven’t had good luck with barbecue joints near the ocean or near vacation spots in general, and it’s probably not just a coincidence. Restaurants in tourist areas typically don’t depend on repeat business. They know you’re probably not coming back anyway, so why jump through hoops to impress?

Are there more than four TVs?

Some joints have a television set or two because they know there are some customers who want to check a score during a sporting event. It also gives the lone diners something to do besides stare at the other diners. Sports bars can be a lot of fun, but if there are more than four TVs, they become less of an amenity and more of the main attraction. At a good ‘cue joint, the barbecue is supposed to be the main attraction. The most notable exception is Bailey’s Smokehouse (Blauvelt NY), which would also be an exception to a “Do they serve pizza?” rule.