Flatpoint Barbecue – 4/4 Hooves, Cliques

Name: Flatpoint Barbecue

Hooves: 4/4

Cliques: Follow on IG @FlatpointBarbecue

The Beef: The line at CC’s Platform (which is the seventh circle of hell) was long as all getout so I went in all ready to not like this joint.  But this dude Danny is absolutely crushing TXBBQ.

Let me start by saying this: if I would have found this place before Moo’s, before Trudy’s, hell, before Ragtop Fern (the godfather of underground LA BBQ) I would have thought I had died and gone to Lockhart.  This is the apotheosis of Texas BBQ.  But since there are now so many meatheads making good to great bbq in our fair little burg, an incredibly high bar(BQ, sorry) has already been set.  You can’t just toss a brisket on some post oak after watching an Aaron Franklin YouTube and call it good. Although I’m sure he lost no sleep over it, Pitmaster Danny Gordon had a lot of work to do to impress me.

 

[Spolier Alert]: He did.  

Flatpoint also overcame a number of obstacles that they had literally nothing to do with.  For example, the dude in front of us in line (which didn’t move for an hour). This knuckle-dragging dingus was in line, smoking a cigar (I like the smell of a cigar, I have been known to smoke a cigar but NOT IN A PUBLIC LINE AT 11AM ON A SUNDAY.) The dude pontificated like he was King BBQ to anyone who would listen, kept yanking on his unkempt dog’s choke chain, and tossed his Starbucks cup on the ground and straight walked over it without a single backward glance. When he finally got to the front of the line (after more than an hour of staring at the menu from his spot in line) he took about 18 minutes to order, like this was the first time he had ever seen food prepared in exchange for money. This mouth-breather obviously knew Danny from another popup and I detected a quiet sigh from Danny as he said hello. (Point: Flatpoint)

If there’s one thing I’ve had to remember as we re-emerge from quarantine it’s that most people are awful. Like my grandpa used to say, “There’s an ass for every seat.” Guess I just plumb forgot. But not you, dear reader! Let’s move on.

So, for starters, they’re on the westside (bestside) as am I, so I don’t have to drag my bony ass through Hollywood or behind the Orange Curtain to set my teeth on some beeves. (Point: Flatpoint)

However, this particular popup was at Culver City’s Platform which I typically avoid like a global health crisis. Parking always sucks, the people are mostly wretched, and every little twee boutique there caters to like showdog nannies, or bored, rich housewives who want to buy something cheugy for their life coach. (Flat: Flatpoint)

On to Flatpoint’s output, the real reason I dragged my meat princess over to Platform on a cot dam weekend:

Brisket: really good. You can tell Danny absolutely knows what he’s doing. When you name yourselves Flat/Point, your flat and point better be…on…point (sorry, this is my first time in public in a long while)

Turkey: moist and smoky, surprisingly good

Ribs: slightly on the chewier side, but I’ve never liked that “competition bite” in ribs where you’re supposed to leave discernible teeth marks – and I also think the fall-off-the-bone is the first sign of bad smoking habits. I like it somewhere in between, even though that line is razor-thin. The bark was a little wet, but when you’re cooking for hundreds, I would imagine the Texas Crutch is gonna leave some barks mushed.

Sausage: Not a ton of heat in the serrano-cheddar, but good balance, nice snap, and big chunks of cheese, which is the way to my heart (through clogged arteries). The Polish kielbasa tasted just like kielbasa in that it wasn’t much to write home about but was good.

The sides: light, good, but ultimately kind of forgettable. In fact, I’m looking back through my pics of the day to even remember what they were. I know there was a slaw that was crisp and bright and a good palette cleanser, but I’m never one to gush over a side, unless it’s truly remarkable. (See Moo’s potato salad and Smokey Jones’ goddam pickles)

Now, discernible readers will undoubtedly ascertain that this so far is not really a typical Four-Hoof review. However, these readers will also notice there is a taco in the above picture that I haven’t yet gotten to.

Sweet.

Fancy.

Pete.

This is THE taco. This is the dish that will bring me back to Flatpoint even if the line is 10 days long and I have to live inside one of The Cloying Mommy boutiques at the snooty-ass Platform to get it. It was DELICIOUS. Balanced, smoky, incredible flavor, stellar sauces/toppings, fantastic tortilla, and just the right amount of that perfect flat/point – I cannot say enough good things about this taco. I think there was a collab between Flatpoint and a tortilla maker, but I might be making that up. Regardless, this is the brisket taco I want on my deathbed. I no longer give a chicken-fried fuck about any other taco in California. This is IT, y’all. The only taco that is on this level is the Real Deal Holyfield from Valentino’s in Austin, and THAT is the apotheosis of a breakfast taco. Y’all. It’s real good.

I’ve heard that Flatpoint got slapped with a fine by the County Health Fascists a while back because they didn’t have the proper licensing for the smoker they smoke this ethereal taco upon, mainly because that license doesn’t exist. This is a symptom of a larger problem for LATXBBQers but probably one that requires its own post for me to rant about.

Regardless, I’m glad to see Danny and Co back up and at em so I could find my one true SoCal taco love in between neanderthals and Kardashian apostles. Keep it up, Flatpoint, I will follow you through hell in a gasoline suit for another one of those tacos. ¡Que Chuladagüey!

Smokey Jones’ BBQ [UPDATED]- 4/4 Hooves, Cliques

Name: Smokey Jones’ BBQ

Hooves: 4/4

Cliques: Follow on IG @smokeyjonesbbq

The Beef: Local sweethearts establish themselves as LA BBQ heavyweights 

 

So, how alla y’all doing?  Looks like we’ve made it to the other side of the pandemic.  While it seems rude as hell to be dumped out of a 15 month quarantine straight into summer, all pasty and plump, hissing at the sunlight like blind moles emerging from our Netflix dens, here we are.  Most importantly, I can stop eating crumbs from under the couch and check in with old BBQ pals and feast on new meats.  My first stop back after quarantine was to see our old buddies Russ and Viv from Smokey Jones’ BBQ.

Russ and Viv were throwing a pop up at Upshift Brewing in El Segundo (this brewery isn’t new but they ‘opened’ in March 2020, so…) My meat lady and I rode bikes down the cloudy and cool beach Memorial Day weekend to see what was what. Upshift is a great little brewery off the beaten Gundo path with some absolutely stellar beers, go check em out posthaste and let them make up a little lost covid time.

[DISCLAIMER] If you’ve read my other blog posts, you’ll immediately ascertain that I am a traditionalist at best and a Texas meat fascist at my worst. I don’t want any Thai peanut-infused sea foam nonsense anywhere near my plate. I want your menu board to say MEAT and PRICE PER POUND and then nothing else- no cute punny names for your sandwiches, no smiley faces, mayyyyyybe add a side if it is done with the time-honored tradition of being remarkably delicious, but I swear to Meatsus if there is a baked bean anywhere near my person, I will stab.

That being said, I’m not sure if it’s the year of house arrest or the Bill Gates microchip I got with the vaccine, but I have emerged from quarantine a new man – not nearly as cranky and ornery and ready to try new things. Get this:

I actually LIKED that Smokey Jones’ didn’t do the meat per pound and actually had some inventive new twists on old classics (WHO IS THE PERSON THAT WROTE THAT SENTENCE)

There is house made chow-chow on that hotdog. It was REALLY good (remember what I said about their pickles when I first reviewed them? These folks know how to pickle, y’all. Good lord I’m not sure I’ve ever had chow-chow this good – slightly sweet, tangy and spicy and it really worked on their house-made jalapeño cheddar dog. The sausage had giant flavor, excellent fat ratio, and best casing snap this side of Kreuz Market, and if you know about that, you know that’s a big deal.

The frito pie was good (no beans, thank Meatsus), but it seemed a little thin and could have used more spice IMHO. However, FINALLY some jalapeños have appeared so I was happier than a pig in, well, frito pie.

But the tri tip sandwich (I still refuse to call them ‘sandos’, see disclaimer above) was the winner by TKO. The meat was smoked perfectly, no hard pulls, deep flavor exquisitely accented by the chimichurri and smoked provolone. Straight-ahead bun, no asinine brioche horseshit, well-balanced, the Platonic ideal of The Perfect Sandwich. This is a dish that I will absolutely come back for. I even ate the cot dam salad – BELIEVE IT.

Anyhoo, Russ and Viv have spent the past couple of years perfecting their craft and it is abundant. The sandwich alone has netted them the elusive FOUR HOOVES AWARD. I welcome them to the pantheon of True LA Meat Purveyors.

(And Sweet Velcro Moses, THOSE PICKLES)

THE VALLEY CHRONICLES Pt. 2 – AJ’s Tex-Mex BBQ – 2/4, Bricks

Name: AJ’s Tex-Mex BBQ

Hooves: 2/4

Bricks: SF Valley, next to Pat’s bar.

The Beef: IF YOU TELL ME YOU ARE SERVING TEX MEX BBQ YOU BETTER ACTUALLY SERVE TEX MEX BBQ BECAUSE I WILL BELIEVE YOU WHEN YOU SAY IT, ESPECIALLY WHEN IT IS IN YOUR NAME

This is Part 2 of the chronicle of the night I dragged my girlfriend into the deepest Valley to eat all the BBQ.  If you missed Part 1, don’t fret, the review wasn’t that good.

One thing you must know about me, Dear Reader, is that I love 3 things: my kids, BBQ, and Tex-Mex food, and probably not in that order.

I think AJ’s is a newer place, but I don’t know since it might as well be on the dark side of East Jesus from where I live. I saw (on Yelp, natch) that it was billed as “Tex Mex BBQ” so I immediately needed it in my face.

My first thoughts:

• There is a giant golden Texas on the door (+1).
• One of the guys was wearing a Houston (*Stinktown) hat (-1).
• You can order through the window in the bar next door (!) (+1)
• The bar next door is Pat’s, which reminded me of Texas in that you could get stabbed by a super white trash drunk at any point in there. (-1)
• They call themselves TEX MEX BBQ!!! (+1000000)
• There was very little Tex Mex on the menu (-infinity)

There was almost zero tex-mex on the menu at AJ’s TEX MEX BBQ besides tacos. There *was* queso on the menu.  It was the most meh queso I have ever had.  No flavor, no heat, no nothing.  More like cheese oatmeal.  Should be called “mehso.” You had to pay extra for chips.  Yes, EXTRA FOR CHIPS.  WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO, EAT THIS WITH A STRAW?? Then when you pay the $2 for chips, they give you like 8,000 of them.  Maybe just don’t charge for the chips and give everybody less, AJ.

Yes, there were tacos on the menu.  Even a couple all-day breakfast tacos!  I firmly Stan a bfast taco, so I ordered the brisket breakfast taco.  The tortilla was more like a middle eastern flatbread.  But the rest of the filling was actually very good.  It was mostly just meat on a flatbread, so I’m not sure what kind of breakfast AJ eats.  They did serve elotes, but in most joints, that’s usually just mayonnaise corn, y’all, and you can miss me with that.

As for the “Proteins” (see VC Pt 3 for this reference), the spareribs were meaty, with pretty good smoke even from a commercial indoor machine. Very little bark though, and could have used some more spices. The brisket had a decent render but no bark, no discernible smoke ring (not that that is a deal breaker), and needed a boost of salt and pepper both.

I had to ask for jalapeños but they had them! (+1) They were not pickled (-1), but apparently AJ’s can’t be choosers.

So in conclusion, I love the concept, AJ’s TEX MEX BBQ, but the execution is not great. I wanted Valentina’s in Austin, and I mostly got Dickey’s in the El Paso airport. I mean, I feel like if you hired consultants from a PR outreach firm to ascertain the very specific demographic of who AJ’s should be marketing to, the consultants would return with just a large picture of me.  I’m hoping this place is new and that they’re just ironing out some kinks.  If there’s room for growth and development in their product, I will absolutely make the drive out to see AJ again. If they’ve been around a while and this is as good as it gets, then I’ll stay my ass at home and make bland queso.  And I already have chips.

POST SCRIPT: You know, after sitting for a while on this review, I *might* have actually given this place 3 Hooves, some of what came out of that smoker was pretty tasty, but when you have TEX MEX BBQ IN YOUR NAME YOU ARE SETTING MY EXPECTATIONS INSANELY HIGH, AJ, DON’T TOY WITH MY EMOTIONS LIKE THAT

 

 

Black Cat BBQ – 3/4 Hooves, Cliques

Name: Black Cat BBQ

Hooves: 3/4 (for now)

Cliques:  Follow on IG @blackcatbbqla, Beverly Hills/Century City Farmer’s Markets

The Beef: Pitman Phil didn’t have the goods (my late-ass fault), but changed my mind forever about one specific dish

Here is a handful of the rules I have abided by for decades:

1) Don’t fancy up the meat, just do it how you know grandpa wanted it; don’t put lipstick on a pig.

2) Sweet beans are more feeble than a one-legged dog, do not serve me any.

3) Don’t give me any sauce unless it’s like walking through hell in a gasoline suit

     3a) SERVE A COT DAM JALAPEÑO FOR PETES SAKE

4) Pulled pork is cheap filler and I will not waste a stomach on it

5) Master the brisket and ribs first, THEN show me your artisanal rhino shank smoked over lavender and Amish hay

ONE OF THESE RULES HAS BEEN CHANGED FOREVER BY BLACK CAT BBQ.

Full disclosure: I WAS LATE.  Fine, I’ll admit it, I was late.  I was in line when they pulled down the brisket and ribs sign.  I was mad, but mad at myself for lollygagging.  I mean but for real, who sells out at the Century City Farmer’s Market on a random Thursday?? Well apparently the word is out about Black Cat, because Phil sells out, that’s who.

I got everything else. Turkey, hot links, pulled pork (I know, I know), greens, slaw, mac, sauce, pickles and onions, JALAPEÑOS.  But I can’t in good conscience give more than 3 hooves without trying his brisket and ribs AND YES I KNOW IT WAS MY OWN DAMN FAULT.

If I had to guess, I’d say Phil was from pulling most of his ethos from one or both of the Carolinas – a lot of vinegar involved in nearly everything, which worked well for the most part.  AMAZINGLY well in one case, but I’ll get to that, keep your britches on. There were some nods to Texas, maybe even Louisiana, but I got mostly Carolina.

The turkey was surprisingly wet and well-smoked – excellent flavor. The hot link was fair on texture, average on flavor, but seemed home-salumed, which I dig.   The greens, advertised as ‘vegan’ (shudder) were sour, heated, and flavorful just like they should be.  I bought some “Zab’s” hot sauce from another vendor at the market (datil pepper) and it paired perfectly (shout Out to the Zab’s hot sauce dude!)

The mac was good, nothing special. The slaw was an afterthought but I got it based on the cash-man’s rec, and it was surprisingly bright and big.  The hot sauce was a bit thin with not a ton of flavor OR heat and the sweet sauce was way too sweet but I’m Texan, so it’s forgivable.  Sauce is a lot like a random LA Texan spewing opinions about other people’s smoked meats without actually smoking anything himself : nobody *really* needs it, right?

But here’s what the click-bait tagline means:  I’ve said it a million times- PULLED PORK IS CHEAP FILLER.

Not Black Cat’s.  It was sublime.  Heat, HUGE flavor, perfectly rendered and smoked.  It looked like it was mainly just vinegar and red pepper to my dilettante tastebuds, but the cook was absolute perfection. Everything else on the plate was acceptable, but this was the apotheosis of pulled pork.  FINE I GET IT NOW, and you should too – go see Black Cat BBQ.  Thanks, Phil!  Next time, throw an extra rack on the bus, I’ll be back.

Heritage Barbecue – 4/4 Hooves, Cliques

Name: Heritage Barbecue

Hooves: 4/4

Cliques: Follow on IG @heritagebarbecue

The Beef: Buried deep behind the Orange Curtain exists a magical, shimmering Shangri-La of Texas BBQ mastery

 

Lookit here, y’all. First and foremost:  FINALLY I FOUND SOME COT DAM JALAPEÑOS IN SOCAL BBQ

I’m sure some of y’all will claim its fake, but I swear I can tell the smell of burning post oak vs any other hardwood smoke.  I know it sounds impossible, but it’s true.  I rolled up to the Green Cheek brewery in Orange, CA and the second I stepped out of the truck, I smelled my Texas past, replete with all the memories called up by the warm carbon haze. I knew immediately that this was not red or common white oak, like most Cali BBQers opt for since it’s cheaper and easier to find, but it was the elusive, mighty California post oak that was smoldering in these big offsets.  Or maybe I just smelled the burning cow flesh and was crazy hungry after the long-ass drive down from Los Angeles. (editor’s note: it was only like 40 minutes).

I grew up mainly in Dallas, but lived in SW Louisiana for a spell as well and still have people there.  I found out Heritage was doing a Cajun-style pop up and Good Lort I was very much here for it.  Or there, that is.  I dipped down behind the Orange Curtain, not expecting much, but my puny mind was blown to smithereens.  Daniel is doing the bona fide THING down there.  There’s really not much more to say.  It was a beautiful sunday, the Green Cheek beer was good and cold, and the BBQ was absolutely sublime.

The brisket was perfectly rendered, pulled well, good smoke, great bark.  The pork ribs were the Aristotelian ideal of ribs.  The andouille had good heat and snapped like a bayou turtle.  Even my Godmother Erline in Lake Charles, LA would have agreed that the Louisiana sides (blackened mac w pork belly, dirty rice, red beans, cajun tater salad) were all exactly what they should be – flavorful, well-crafted, but never overpowering the main show which was the perfectly seasoned, smoked, and cut meats.  And thank god the “cajun” potato salad wasn’t just regular-ass mayo tater salad dusted with that weird orange salt that everybody outside of the 504/337 area codes seem to think makes something “Cajun.”  PLEASE STOP IT WITH THAT ORANGE SAND, IT’S NOT EVEN CHACHERES Y’ALL SHOULD BE ASHAMED

Daniel is clearly a gifted culinary mind.  He’s adventurous while still staying true to tradition.  He’s not only putting out some of the best BBQ in the state, he’s consistently changing themes and sides.  I am fairly floored by his and his team’s output.  I can’t really hone in on a menu standout, we sampled them all, and ALL were stellar.  The bolillo roll seemed a little out of place, but seen as a quiet nod to locals’ Calimex roots, I was on board.  I really can’t say much more, Heritage Barbecue is ABSOLUTELY GREAT. Daniel and his team are doing it as well as anybody in this state, and I would suggest they can rival literally anybody in Texas too.  Next time they pop-up, I’m running the truck southward again, let me know if you wanna come bird-dog in the back;  I’m deadass serious, y’all.

So if I can’t lavish any more praise on Heritage, let’s spend the rest of this review about something that has been bothering me for a while, you dig?  Somewhere around about a decade ago I was in Texas and talking BBQ with my eaters who stayed behind in the Great State. Everyone was all a-titter about big ass beef ribs popping up at the more cutting-edge shops.  John Lewis, Black’s in Lockhart, Mueller (elder and younger), they were all putting out these $35 dinosaur bones.  Call me a philistine, but I don’t get it.

Beef short ribs are at best just pot roast on a rib; huge chunks of gelatinous same same on a bigass bone.  At worst, you’re stuck with a massive hunk of boring.  Good fat runs all the way through them, sure, but there’s a terrible bark ratio. They take up huge swaths of smoker real-estate and have the worst margins in the game, and are just not as spectacular as the BBQ instagram meatheads would have you believe. Sorry if I’m stepping on your tongue here, but it feels like the Emperor’s New Bones.  Give me a pound near the point and a half rack of the swine any day over these blood and fat loaves.  That said, the beef rib from Heritage was exactly what a beef rib should be.  Regardless of my feelings about the cow cage, it was done right.

Whew, now that I got that off my chest, let’s go see Daniel and his family again in OC ASAP.  The truck is gassed up and I’ve got the loose belt on. CONGRATS ON ALL FOUR HOOVES CLICKING TOGETHER IN STRIDE, HERITAGE, KEEP IT UP.

Baby Blues – 1/4 Hooves, Bricks

Name: Baby Blues

Hooves: 1/4

Bricks: Look em up

The Beef: Please stop telling me about Baby Blues

 

Please stop telling me about Baby Blues BBQ. I have been to a couple different locations of theirs over the years and while I like the kitsch, and they seem like nice people, it is not good. When cornbread and greens are your front running headlines, that’s a large red-headed flag.

The brisket was vermicelli drowned in ketchup. It looked like it came out of a can. The beans are sweet AF. The end.

If you come up to me and agree that there has been a dearth of really good bbq in LA for a long time, yet you still exclaim, “except for Bludso’s (HWood location) and Baby Blues,” I know at least one of three things about you:

A) You spent most of your life living in a large field somewhere

B) You lost your tongue in a Missouri mining accident

C) You wouldn’t know good bbq if it jumped up and bit you on the deckle.

Stop it with the Baby Blues talk, y’all. St Louis can make a passable rib but these folks can’t even make St. Louis proud.  Thank you, next.

Smokey Jones’ BBQ – 3/4 Hooves, Cliques

Name: Smokey Jones’ BBQ

Hooves: 3/4

Cliques: Follow on IG @smokeyjonesbbq

The Beef: Local sweethearts doing a damn thing in our beloved Culver City

 

These days, if I don’t find a new beef outfit through the current LA BBQ network of knuckleheads, I’m highly suspicious.  If I then find somebody smoking within like a mile of my house and I don’t already know about it, I’m even more suspicious.  Smokey Jones set off all the alarm bells and I was fully prepared to be underwhelmed.

A former cook friend of mine hipped me to their pop-ups recently so I emailed, jumped in the whip, and cruised like 5 minutes to a quiet street in south Culver. I had no backup meat plan in case the fare was subpar, I went in with an open mind and mouth, but a nagging worry about wasting a precious stomach on trash.

Russ and Viv are great.  Friendly, gregarious, a refreshing lack of pretension, and have a totally comfortable setup in their driveway.  They were absolutely welcoming and the first time I went, it was a breeze.  But this made me even more nervous.  What if their grub was no good?  I actually like these people! PLUS they had no brisket this week, so I was now mostly terrified.

Luckily, I was pleasantly surprised. They’re just finding their footing, and the product was somewhat uneven, but they’re doing all the right things to start to mess around with the big time LA BBQ meatheads.  I even went back 2 weeks later to try their prime and wagyu brisket and turkey.  Here’s how it all stacked up:

This is dumb to start with their homemade pickles but they are fucking GREAT.

The ribs were palatable, not much smoke and a very light bark, but good texture, and relatively tasty.

The rib tips were remarkable, sweet, smoky, great pull, just like Gramps likes em.

The pulled pork was pulled pork.  As you know from other posts, dear reader, I still think pulled pork is cheap filler and is cousin to plain white rice or beans in chili or an apostrophe in a plural noun.  Nobody really needs it.

The sides and sauces were good.  The slaw was light and bright, and the mac n cheese was just like it should be.  I’m not a vinegar sauce man, since the Nation of Texas shuns the stuff, but it still added a fine bite.  The bbq sauce was really complex and complementary, and made up for a lack of heat in some dishes.

The brisket (both prime and wagyu) could have used a longer cook.  Both pretty much failed the pull test, but both also had decent bark and good flavor.  The render seemed incomplete on both which I would imagine just needed time + heat.  The smoke ring was complete, but I think folks put too much stock in the ring these days – I prefer to judge by the render and the pull, and neither were great on either offering.

The smoked turkey was the best I’ve had outside Greenberg’s in Tyler Texas.  I want more right now.

My only REAL complaint is that #1) I didn’t get more pickles, and #2) just like with every damn smoker in this fair city WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET A JALEPEÑO WITH BBQ AROUND HERE??

To sum it up, Russ and Viv are killer people and well on their way to being bona fide LA meatheads.  I’m looking forward to seeing what they do from here, especially since I can basically roll myself home after a visit.

 

SLAB – 3.87/4 Hooves, Bricks

Name: SLAB

Hooves: 3.87/4

Bricks(!): 8136 W 3rd St, Los Angeles, CA 90048

The Beef: A meaty congrats to Burt and the gang for jumping in with both feet

 

FULL DISCLOSURE:

1. I haven’t been this excited about an LA restaurant opening since I don’t know when.
2. Burt and I have become somewhat friendly over the years and I think he’s a stellar guy and an even better meat man.

These two points mean that rather than me giving SLAB an easy pass to glory,  I’ll probably be more critical of it than I would any other new brick and mortar smokehouse in Christendom.  Sorry Burt, but them’s the breaks – your farm club ascent was meat-ioric (sorry), but now your’e in the Show.

Slab is great.  The space is great, it’s hip without being pretentious, it’s not pandering or derivative like TXBBQ Disneyland (see: Hill Country NYC). It’s in a great area in Mid-City, accessible, and welcoming. The serving line had hiccups like any brand new operation, lots of confusion between the employees, but I have no doubt it’ll get streamlined quickly – it is in its infancy, after all.

A BBQ fiend buddy and I lined up last week and right off the bat Burt trimmed the black point of a well-rested brisket for us. It was transcendent.  But of course it was; Burt is a real pit master, formerly of Trudy’s Underground BBQ.  Burt’s brisket is easily the best west of the Pecos, and it rivals any I’ve ever had ANYWHERE. It was perfectly rendered, not an overwhelming smoke ring (note: don’t get caught up in the smoke ring hype y’all, it’s not the hallmark of a good smoke that you might think it is.)  Burt is such a gifted and dedicated pit man, tireless in his efforts and passion. He is delightfully understated, but from the deckle to the flat, he is a dynamo artisan of incredibly well-smoked brisket. We’re all incredibly lucky to live at the same time and in the same city with this bona fide Master.

But this is where the restaurant bogs down a bit.  There was honestly really not much else to write about.  Slab gets the rare Decimal Hooves, 3.87 out of 4.  I know that a cow can’t have a fractional hoof, but this is my goddamn blog and I do what I goddam well please.

I think the initial problem for Slab, and why I can’t give it 4 Hooves YET, is primarily in the messaging and in the presentation. I know that Slab’s backers are well-heeled LA restaurateurs and I imagine behind the scenes there was probably some push and pull about the vision for the restaurant. Also, this joint is in it’s infancy so I’m sure that there are the usual birth pains that will be rectified over the coming months through tweaking and focusing the menu and kitchen output.

Burt is a BBQ savant, but he is also a legit culinary adventurer. Unfortunately, while the recipes for the other meats and sides probably show this, it’s not very well elucidated in the messaging. The beans had really unusual spices, I think I detected allspice(?) and other unexpected flavors but on the menu it just said something like “Beans.”  If I was prepared for anything other than the Platonic Ideal of ranch beans, I may have enjoyed it more, but I was confused and underwhelmed.

This went for most of the sides too. The greens were bitter and oddly sweet, the mac and cheese was flat, the corn was corn.  Just corn. Also, there were no jalapeños.  NOT A SINGLE JALAPEÑO.  I like Burt a lot, but during our personal tour of the commercial smoker (thanks, bud!) I wanted to shake him and plead with his better nature to be reasonable and Sweet Christ just give me a single pickled pepper, man, I beg you.

We had asked for every meat on the menu, but we caught them at an odd time (growing pains are infinitely forgivable, y’all) and we only ended up with brisket on the plate. They ran out of pulled pork (which was fine, pulled pork is the lite beer of BBQ), but that was all we got at first (y’all know I don’t truck with that Yard Bird so I eschewed the chicken.)  There were some ribs called “Tony’s” that came to the table when we were almost finished, and while well-smoked, had a serious citrus glaze on them that was cloying and masked the pork taste almost entirely.

There was a frito pie that was actually great, but it was just frito pie. It seemed almost an afterthought, or simply a throw-in nod to Texas that came across as incongruous. If it was made with burnt ends, or maybe an unusual cut of something else, or even was more of a local SoCal take on the dish, it would have made more sense.

I can’t help but think if the menu was better illustrated and I knew what I was getting into with everything coming out of the kitchen, I might have enjoyed it more.  More detail about what was going into each dish would have gone a long way.  But as it was, I was fairly non-plussed and mostly just plumb confused.  I love Burt’s instagram and how exciting, breathless, and almost reckless his forays into food discovery can be, but I am also certain that he could make a stellar straight-ahead bean.  And if it’s not the perfect bean, tell me exactly what it is before I take fork to face.

The homemade onions and pickles were great, and it was served with Actual White Bread (I flinched when I saw Hawaiian rolls too, but this is SoCal after all), and overall I had a great meat sweat working when I left, but also a lingering disappointment at early missed potential.  I know exactly what I wanted from Slab, but I didn’t get it all.

However, I cannot stress this enough: I would have written a very different review of the joint, but for that brisket.  That goddam brisket. Here’s the final word on my 1st trip to Slab (THERE WILL ABSOLUTELY BE MORE): RUN, do not walk, RUN to Slab just for the brisket if for nothing else. Also, support the home team, Burt is the dude and I desperately want them to succeed, if for no other reason than I don’t have to drive to NoHo on random weekends to get my grubby mitts on that perfect, perfect IMPS #120.

Ragtop Fern’s – 3/4 Hooves, Cliques

Name: Ragtop Fern’s

Hooves: 3/4

Cliques on IG: ragtopfernsbbq

 The Beef: This is the OG Cliques LABBQer

Fern is a dude. He loves the smoke (he has a day gig that he’ll apparently never give up, even though he gets offers on the regular to start a smoke shack), and smokes nearly every weekend when he’s not doing events. He is 100% Angeleno and will tell you that he’s not trying to do Texas style, he’s forging his own path.  He was one of the original underground smokers I heard about and he’s honed his craft for quite a spell. Regardless, whatever he’s doing would hold up just fine in East Austin. He branches out some: serves Hawaiian rolls instead of white bread, does some killer brujeria magic with green chorizo, makes his own sauce which is tasty, and just kicks it on the porch with the homies on weekends, drinking beer and cutting meat. His ribs are actually some of the best in town, and even without his tangy sauce, the rub stands up. His brisket is not my favorite, but again, I’m coming at it from a very different perspective – his methods might get some stares at a Lockhart competition, but again, he’s doing his LA thing. He is fiercely independent and has some serious pitmaster sass on him, which adds to his charm. I pulled up to his apartment in my 1964 Ford and he asked if I had a rash from driving it (he’s a Caddy man.) Catch up with Fern, his merch is legit, his homemade upright smoker named “Lucifer”is a fucking beast, and he is doing a damn thing in far east K-Town.

Morfia’s – 0/4 Hooves, Bricks

Name: Morfia’s

Hooves: 0/4

Bricks: In Venice on Lincoln

The Beef: Drowning

Every so often I’ll hear about a place from somebody who has good intentions, but little pedigree with good TXBBQ.  So goes Morfia’s.  I heard about this place from a friend who I’ll call Jeff, because his name is Jeff.  Jeff is from like Pennsylware, Vermarylandachussets or something and although he loves eating, he doesn’t have much of a BBQ eater pedigree.  He told me he loved this place Morfia’s so I went.  If you like grey, watery meat swimming in industrially-dyed sucrose, this is the place for you.  I couldn’t even finish it and that’s really saying something for my fat ass.  It didn’t help that the single tillman/busser/server was surly AF and not in a “Grumpy Pitmaster Who Tells It Like It Is” way.  I gave it the Low Hoof® but I hear the pies are good.  I wouldn’t know since I couldn’t get shut of this place quick enough.