What you should see in a barbecue restaurant

I'm not an expert on many things, but this is important.

There I was, in Lockhart, Texas — a boy before I walked through the doors of Kreuz Market and a boy who was madly in love with barbecue when I exited.

The building from the street looks like it could be a barn, a cattle auction site or one of those churches that bought whatever building they could find and moved in. But on the exterior are two words in large print: “barbecue” and “sausage.” The first thing I feel I should do upon arrival is confess because down here, barbecue sauce is a sin and I’ve partaken wildly of the stuff.

We ordered a bit of everything and it came out on pink butcher paper: sausages, ribs, and the brisket (the brisket, Mylanta).

Y’all, I don’t want to try to describe flavor and taste with words on a keyboard. I hate reading the word succulent and crispy. So you’ll just have to go visit sometime and experience it yourself.

But this brings me to the purpose of this here piece. I want to share with you what you should see when you walk into a barbecue restaurant. These are by no means “requirements” because it’d be silly to try to put something fun and cultural in a bottle and say “it has to be this way.” Consider these more like indicators that you’re in good hands when it comes to your lunch or dinner.

First, you should smell smoke. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire but more importantly, sometimes where there’s smoke, there’s barbecue. And the smoke should alternate between the scent of wood and something that makes your mouth water like a rottweiler at a cat convention.

Next, there should be pictures on the wall. Ideally, there are pictures of some heavy-set men holding up blue ribbons and trophies in front of a portable smoker. Are there local football legends (high school through pro ball) who have signed pictures and written “Best meal I’ve had in years!” and “Rodney, you’re the real G.O.A.T.” If not, I’m willing to let that slide as long as there is a picture of an old woman or man who “founded this place in ______ with the hopes of servin’ up the best barbeuce n’ fixins in all of ______”

Look at the tables. How are they covered? What’s on them? I’m not too picky here but there should be something that catches your eye. Do you see red and white checkered tablecloths? That’s a good sign. Do those tablecloths look old enough to be purchased during the Nixon administration? Here we go! Is there anything strange on the table that leaves you wondering whether it should be there? Good. I’ve been to places where there’s a loaf of white bread sitting at every table and you’re pretty sure that’s what you ought to use instead of napkins.

Is there sauce on the table? Hush your mouth, Texans. Sauce is an admirable addition to barbecue. Especially if it’s made in house. There might be some varieties of sauce like “Hot” and “Sweet.” I’m actually going to call this a red flag. I don’t want your Jack Daniels flavor sauce, I want Uncle Murphy’s classic recipe — if you do something well enough, you don’t need varieties. And if you see KC Masterpiece or a major brand on the table, that’s even worse news.

Lastly and most importantly. Look at the other customers who have their food. Are they talking much while they eat? They’re not? Perfect. Look out folks, you might just be about to fall in love.

Some of my favorite places:

Kreuz Market - Lockhart, Texas

Q39 - Kansas City, Missouri

Joe’s KC - Kansas City, Kansas

Arthur Bryant’s - Kansas City, Missouri

Dreamland Barbecue - Tuscaloosa, Alabama

Lewis Barbecue - Charleston, South Carolina

Ridgewood Barbecue - Bluff City, TN