More evidence that Lockhart has lost its barbecue magic

Smitty's Market oak wood pile & the Caldwell County courthouse. (Photo ©Chris Wilkins/Texas BBQ Posse)

On our way back to Dallas from our recent Houston-area barbecue tour, all 6 Posse members on the trip listed their top 5 joints in the state, in no particular order.

Specific criteria probably varied from person to person, but these would be places we'd drive across the state to eat at or recommend to good friends that they do the same.

Since then, we've been asked to run each person's top 5. Those lists are below.

Three joints mentioned by each of us: Killen's Barbecue in Houston, Pecan Lodge in Dallas and la Barbecue in Austin. Only 3 of us listed Franklin Barbecue in Austin, generally considered the best joint in the state.

Others receiving at least one mention: Louie Mueller Barbecue in Taylor, Miller's Smokehouse in Belton and Snow's BBQ in Lexington.

Reviewing the lists now, a bigger revelation than the lack of unanimity for Franklin, is the total absence of any joint in Lockhart. Five years ago, that wouldn't have been the case. Then, Smitty's, Black's and Kreuz Market demanded a pilgrimage.

That's more evidence that Lockhart is no longer the barbecue capital of Texas.

From the NFL to Ray's BBQ Shack in Houston, meet Herb Taylor, pit master in training

Herb Taylor, co-owner of Ray's Real BBQ Shack in Houston. (Photo ©Daniel Goncalves/fotobia.com)

At TCU in Fort Worth, offensive tackle Herb Taylor started every game during his four-year college football career.

He was drafted by the Kansas City Chiefs in 2007 and spent time with four other NFL teams over six years.

Herb Taylor as a Kansas City Chief.

Now out of football, Taylor is a co-owner and self described "pit master in training" at Ray's Real Pit BBQ Shack in Houston. The other co-owners are Ray Busch and Maxine Davis, Taylor's mother, who were't there when we stopped.

Taylor said he started cooking for his teammates and friends while he was at TCU. Now, he's learning from Ray, who began serving barbecue out of a food truck nearly 30 years ago.

On day 2 of the Posse's recent barbecue tour of the Houston area, we hit Ray's Shack right after Killen's Barbecue in Pearland, a very tough act to follow.

Still, we liked Ray's sausage and pork ribs, although we thought the brisket tended toward roast beef and the chicken was dry.

The rub on the ribs reminded some of us of the Baby Back Shak in Dallas. Shak ribs are among our favorites.

Ray's four meat plate with boudin. (Photo ©Daniel Goncalves) 

Like the Shak, Ray's also serves a tasty boudin.

"To me, this place is better than Gatlin's or Virgie's any time I've been there," Posse regular Jim Rossman said, referring to two Houston joints that made Texas Monthly's Top 50 list.

We had visited Virgie's the previous day and were disappointed.

Taylor's jersey -- #72 -- from his time with Green Bay Packers, hangs on one wall. At 6-4, he looks considerably lighter than his listed NFL playing weight of about 300 pounds.

While he may still be a smoked meat apprentice, he shares the same attitude about food as many veteran pit masters we have met.

"No way I can eat barbecue all the time," Taylor said.

Ray's Real Pit BBQ Shack, 4529 Old Spanish Trail, Houston, 713-748-4227. Open Mon-Sat 11am-8pm. Website: http://www.raysbbqshack.com

Customers wait in line at Ray's Real Pit BBQ Shack. (Photo ©Daniel Goncalves/fotobia.com)

Herb Taylor's jersey from the Packers hangs in the dining room of Ray's. (Photo ©Daniel Goncalves/fotobia.com)

Ray's BBQ Shack is located next to a convenience store & gas station in south Houston. (Photo ©Chris Wilkins/Texas BBQ Posse)

Houston-area barbecue fans finally get hip and learn how to form a line at Killen's Pop-Up BBQ in Pearland

Long line at Killen's BBQ in Pearland last Saturday. (Photo by Bryan Norton/bbqtreasurehunt.com)

"Magic tingle."

That's how Bryan Norton, a blogger who rides a motorcycle to many of the barbecue joints he visits, describes the experience of tasting perfect brisket.

"It's that magic combination of pepper, salt, perfectly rendered fat, and of course brisket that literally travels through your body," he explained recently on the Posse's Facebook page.

"I've seen it make people giggle, laugh, roll their eyes back in their head, high-five and sometimes all of those at once," Norton wrote.

The Posse can't argue. That may be the most accurate description we've ever seen. This Norton dude knows barbecue.

So, we took special notice this weekend when Norton wrote about Killen's Pop-Up BBQ in Pearland, the weekend smoked meat test lab for steakhouse king Ronnie Killen while his barbecue restaurant is being completed.  The joint has been getting rave reviews and attracting crowds.

A readers' guide to The Barbecue Chronicles, the journeys of the Texas BBQ Posse

Since November 2009, members of the Texas BBQ Posse have traveled nearly 5,000 miles searching for the best barbecue in the state. True sojourners of smoked meat, BBQ Snob and prolific blogger Daniel Vaughn once called us. Back at you, Daniel.

As we await publication in The Dallas Morning News of our recent Best of Texas Tour, here's an annotated readers' guide, with links, to the first 11 chapters of our barbecue chronicles.

A meditation on "creamy, crunchy" BBQ perfection

Recently, one of our readers, probably from Houston, took issue with a reference here to the spectacular ribs at City Market in Luling, seen in the photo above.

A Posse member called the best rib he had ever eaten -- just that morning at City Market -- "moist, creamy, crunchy perfection."

Our reader wondered how any real barbecue fan could ever call a rib creamy.

Of course, he was probably more upset that the same post essentially said the best barbecue in Houston was average when compared to the best in Dallas.

Hot barbecue opinions, like hot sports opinions, do generate reaction.

Anyway, back to creamy.

On the Posse, we aren't limited by the restrictive vocabulary of barbecue criticism that focuses on  smoke rings, crust and sugar cookies. That can get predictable.

We say what we feel.

Once, a Posse member described the ribs at a famous Fort Worth joint as looking as if they had been extruded from a machine. It was a wonderful, and accurate, description.

And if you've ever had a perfectly cooked rib that's moist and tender and has a silky smooth textured taste combined with a bit of hard crust, then you, too, know what "creamy, crunchy perfection" means.

If you haven't, keep looking....And probably not in Houston.

Photo ©Jim Rossman/Texas BBQ Posse

Houston BBQ king Jerry Pizzitola's epiphany: His brisket isn't in the same league as Snow's

WARNING: This post contains some gloating, but we hope it stops well short of excessive celebration.

A few weeks ago, we wrote about our latest BBQ tour, in search of good smoked meat in Houston.

We didn't find any. And we quoted Houston Chronicle photographer Smiley Pool, who shared a Pulitzer Prize while at The Dallas Morning News, saying if you wanted good BBQ in Houston, then you had to get in a car and drive two hours.

Several readers chided our taste and challenged our BBQ expertise. One even took at shot at the beer we drank. That's low. Really low.

Now comes a story out of Houston about Jerry Pizzitola, owner of Pizzitola's Bar-B-Cue on Shepherd Drive, one of the places we visited. We found the history of his joint better than the barbecue.

It seems that Pizzitola had an epiphany while eating at Snow's in Lexington early this year. After tasting Snow's brisket, Pizzitola realized that the brisket he served wasn't in the same league.

The Posse agrees. We think Snow's brisket is great. Only two other places in the state -- Franklin's in Austin and Fargo's in Bryan -- are equal or better.

Since seeing the light, Pizzitola and his pitmasters have been experimenting with different sizes of brisket, different cooking times, temperatures and wrapping techniques.

"It's better," Pizzitola told the Web site 29-25.com last week, "but it's not where we want it to be. Not now. Not yet."

We applaud Pizzitola's honesty and wish him luck in his quest. Better brisket is a noble goal.

And, we have to thank him for supporting our original judgment about Houston.

Indeed, good barbecue there is still two hours away.

Photo ©Chris Wilkins/Texas BBQ Posse

History more interesting than BBQ at Pizzitola's in Houston

Pizzitola's. Great name for a pizza joint.

And that's exactly what what some potential customers mistakenly thought until the place changed its signs several years ago, adding references to barbecue, said manager Lexie Moore.

"Everyone thanked us for bringing barbecue to the neighborhood," Moore said. "We had it all the time."

We arrived at Pizzitola's Bar-B-Cue on Shepherd Drive in Houston about an hour or so before closing on a Friday night.

The joint touts itself as "Houston's Home for Spareribs" and they weren't bad. Neither was the sausage. But the brisket was closer to roast beef, dry and without much taste.

The real story of Pizzitola's, though, is its history rather than its smoked meats.

The joint's lineage traces to the 1930s and pitmaster John Davis, who ran Shepherd Drive Bar-B-Q. "John P. Davis, World's Greatest Barbecue Man," says one sign on Pizzitola's wall.

According to a 1988 Houston Post article that also hangs on the wall, Davis, who was black, segregated his customers. Blacks in the front and whites in the back.

Jerry Pizzitola, who played football for the Texas Aggies in the early 1960s, took over operations from the Davis family in the early 1980s and changed the name. He retained the original wood-fired brick pits, which are still used.

According to the Houston Chronicle, the two 12 foot-by-6 foot pits are examples of "traditional open pit barbecue that can't be found anywhere else in Houston."

Moore said retaining that history comes with some limitations. Pizzitola's can't make major changes to its building.

"If we do, we lose our grandfather clause on the pits," he said as he gave us a tour of the place.

That would be a shame.




Photos ©Philip Lamb (top) & Chris Wilkins/Texas BBQ Posse