My parents were in town this weekend, so I ate the fuck out of Durango. Forget chronological order: we're going with the best food first here, which means we're starting with Serious Texas Bar-B-Q. Lots of places outside of the Lone-Star State boast of their Texas-ness: Lone Star Steakhouse, Texas Weiners (this place actually looks awesome: Sandwich Sorcerer, that's your home turf) Pepperidge Farm Texas Toast.
"Texas" as a modifier has been overused so much that it's hard to trust anymore. It's as weak as a college diploma. EVERYONE has a fucking diploma now. What good does it? How does it distinguish anyone? "He's a college graduate, he's a hard worker, smart kid." No, that's what it meant in 1955. Today, it means that you were lucky enough to have your parents spend $33,000 so you could pound cans of Keystone Light, try to hook up with girls in the class below you, and get high while watching Family Guy at 3 a.m., maybe squeezing in a few midterms along the way. A bachelor's degree is devalued, just like "Texas" is when used to describe food. "These are some TEXAS-style Ribs. We're gonna have us some TEXAS hot sauce." It doesn't mean anything! Who knows what TEXAS-style is anymore?
Anyway, it's needless to say, my expectations for this "Serious Texas Bar-B-Q" were low.
From the start, though, there were a couple glimmers of hope:
1: There are a lot of Texans that own second homes in Durango. They demand serious Bar-B-Q. They know their shit.
2. It's right out on the highway. If Texas is an exaggeration of everything stereotyped to be American -- especially convenience, tackiness, willful ignorance and pride in simplicity to the point of unattractiveness -- then what better place for a Texas establishment than right on the highway, where nothing exists except speed, pollution and concrete?
3. It's spelled BAR-B-Q. Not BBQ. Not Barbecue. The BAR-B-Q spelling is so corny and unpretentious that it has to mean business.
4. When I was at Baker Bridge, an awesome swimming hole, I overheard this exchange between two college students:
"Yo, smoke a bowl then hit up some Serious Texas Bar-B-Q?"
"Fuck yeah, bro."
Okay. So, we walk in. The lights are bright as fuck. I like it. Very Texas-like, going back to that theme of pride in things that are not aesthetically pleasing .
There's also tons of stuff on the wall. This is borderline Applebees, but somehow it's okay here Some of the stuff is legit: a bunch of beer bottles and cans from the 1980s that look like they were literally salvaged from a bar's dumpster or your grandfather's billiards room. Other things don't make sense: A giant University of Colorado flag hanging next to some Texas Longhorns regalia. This is like a guy wearing a Yankees hat and Mets jersey. Texans hate the University of Colorado, and vice versa.
Suddenly doubtful again, I'm reassured by seeing tons of dudes in cowboy hats. There are also some guys with camo and hunting clothes. A good sign. Texans and guys who kill animals for sport are people who know how to eat.
The menu is also awesome. Very bare to the bones. No nonsense. Straight-up Texas plainness. Here's the "Smoked Meats" section:
| SMOKED MEATS (Served on Butcher Paper) | ||
| Brisket | 1/2 Pound | $6.50 |
| Pork Loin | 1/2 Pound | $6.50 |
| Elgin, Texas Sausage | 1/2 Pound | $6.50 |
| Turkey Breast | 1/2 Pound | $6.50 |
| Pork Spare Ribs | Whole Slab $18.00 | Half Slab $11.00 |
| Sampler | ||
No gimmicks. Just let the food speak for itself.
We get in line behind a bunch of cowboy hats. The girls cutting our meat are true Texas belles. They must have shipped the girls up, along with all the Lone Star Beer and the good bbq sauce, straight from the heart of Texas. I'm pretty sold so far, and we haven't seen the food yet.
We order the sampler, a rack of ribs, and a side of cheesey potatoes. I'm almost ready to dish out a five-knuckle rating. Then I order my beer and am completely won over.
"I'll have a Shiner Bock," I tell Carrie Underwood.
"You can grab it right over there, honey."
I look over and see an ice chest with condensation-beaded longnecks stoically rising above the arctic-like ice surface. I could have sworn there was a halo around the ice chest. I felt like Cortez did when he found the City of Seven Golden Sunsets.
Me getting to grab my own beer is the Texas way. It says, "You are a man. In Texas, being a man means that you don't need no one to do nothing for you. Fuck the government, you can do it all by yourself. So go ahead and grab that beer yourself. Exercise that freedom. It's not only your right, it's your goddamn Texas-given, patriotic duty."
I grab my beer and walk over to the table, where our feast awaits. It's fucking beautiful. Aside from the ribs, turkey, brisket, sausage and pork loin, there is potato salad, cherry chipotle salsa, chipotle mayonnaise, and some pineapple salsa nonsense (not very Texas like, but I can let it slide). There's also four slices of white bread. Fucking straight-up white bread. It definitely cancels out the hip, fancy salsas.
Everything is great. I'm a sucker for the chipotle mayo. But the thing that gets me most, being the cheese-monster I am, are the cheezey potatoes. I swear they crammed every ounce of god-given goodness into that styrofoam container. Tons of butter, oil, cheese and probably some sour cream, all on top of little potato wedges. It's like the best mac and cheese you ever had, only better.
I shovel food into my mouth. I wash down each portion of meat with a hearty helping of cheezey potatoes. As my arteries quietly clog, a Lee Greenwood greatest hits record plays in my head. If the terrorists do indeed hate our freedom, then goddamn it, they're missing out.
SERIOUS TEXAS BAR-B-Q: FIVE KNUCKLES
Good prices, great food, great ambience if you take it in context. Ideal if you want Bar-B-Q and don't want to wait to be served at a restaurant, but still want solid food and a good place to eat. Also ideal if you've just hit a bowl, or were out hunting or watching football all day.
I have a feeling that while you are right that Colorado dislikes Texas, Texas probably doesn't really regard Colorado in one way or the other. They probably view us much in the way that we would view a Boise State, as in, "I didn't know Boise was a state (Nyuk nyuk nyuk)." Their rivalries consist in those colleges who would tailgate in a covered wagon.
ReplyDeleteShaquille O'Meal
haha...covered wagon tailgating. great concept. the best part about is that you have an endless supply of beef at your disposal. if you know how to clean a cow, the burgers are endless. do you think they tailgated back in those days? when was the first known tailgate? this, alas, is a topic for another day.
ReplyDeleteCAPTAIN CHEDDARSTORM