Final Thoughts

Five days and 13 restaurants later, our journey came to a close with us sated and grease-sheened. Steven had come to rediscover his gustatory roots; Kim simply wanted to know what Steven had been nattering on about all these years; and Jen and Arnie were looking to break out of their prison of good health and spiritual contentment.

Initially, it was a journey of discovery. We wanted to know things like: How big are our stomachs? What constitutes a lethal dose of cholesterol?

In the process we not only answered those questions (bigger than we thought and we'll let you know when the test results are back) but also discovered that there’s still a little of the meat-loving hunter in each of us. Ok, in each of us except Kim.

We traveled through a unique landscape that evoked images of cowboys riding fence lines and experienced small towns time forgotten by time.

But ultimately, it was a coming home and a rediscovery of timeless friendships. So what started out being about food ended up being about friends. And, with that, we offer these final thoughts for anyone contemplating a comparable journey:

• You want the best BBQ in Texas? It’s not at a restaurant…it’s at the community hall BBQ Joint.
• Good BBQ is all about the cow. A good beef rib is better than a pork rib.
• Good Texas BBQ comes from towns that start with an “L” – Luling (City Market), Lockhart (Smitty’s), Lllano (Cooper’s). Clearly Louie Mueller was supposed to be in “Laylor” not Taylor, TX
• The importance of the vibe: Along the way, we’ve had a range of experiences, in joints from dead to thriving, and realized that it has nothing to do with quality. We went to one at 5 pm and it was dead. We cut it slack until we went across the street at 5:20 and it was packed. But the biggest impression is the WIDE variety of public in the dining room…yuppy golfers, local farmers, Hispanic families and biker clubs. (The best was the biker gang at Smitty’s – lots of leather and metal studs. But how afraid can you be of a big biker dude with a Harley shirt and metal belt, but carrying a great big rainbow sherbet ice cream cone?)
• Even mediocre BBQ meals in Texas are better than what the rest of the nation is used to eating on their best BBQ days.
• I was hoping to bring home some souvenirs from the quest in the form of fun T-shirts, but the real BBQ joints don’t sell “gear.” They don’t ship their meat and they don’t advertise. If you walk in and see a wall of shirts and hats and bumper stickers, you’re in the wrong place.