Super Bowl XXXVIII - Panthers vs. Patriots

January 31, 2004

Texas 'Pretenders'

Longhorn barbecue interesting but falls short of the real thing

By Richard Craver | JOURNAL REPORTER

HOUSTON

Barbecue is a whole different animal in Texas. Literally.

The sight of a mounted head of a longhorn steer greeting customers at Goode Company Texas Barbeque here is a quick clue that this is not Lexington.

Beef barbecue, whether sliced, hanging on the bone or in links, is its own food group in Texas. The locals prefer it covered in a tomato-red sauce, served on jalapeno cheese Texas toast and washed down with a longneck beer or two.

Pork barbecue, the kind that made Lexington famous and Triad residents have grown up on for generations, is a mere curiosity.

There's certainly no fear of mad-cow disease here. But if it were to strike Texas barbecue, its residents might make it two weeks before starving to death.

Texans argue passionately that their barbecue is superior to that found in North Carolina, Memphis, Kansas City and other places, which they refer to as "pretenders."

They are seriously divided about where the most authentic Texas barbecue is found, especially considering that the state has more than 2,100 barbecue restaurants. Among the Texans I surveyed informally this week, a slight majority pointed toward Austin barbecue.

From talking to several Texas barbecue boosters eager to convert a good ol' Tarheel to the beef side, I had to find out which style was superior while in town for Super Bowl XXXVIII.

I was steered in the direction of three authentic Texas barbecue restaurants - Goode, Otto Bar-B-Q and Luther's Bar-B-Q.

The 10-gallon-hat crowd would feel right at home at Goode with its old country-and-western music favorites and rodeo fliers serving as wallpaper.

George Bush the senior is such a frequent diner at Otto's that the restaurant offers a Bush plate of ribs.

It became clear early on why at least the people in Texas are bigger.

The restaurants pile the barbecue and fixings high and thick, ensuring that while customers may have to be rolled away from the restaurant, they'll never go away hungry. They'll also have to walk at least a couple of miles to ensure the barbecue beef tips don't go immediately to their hips.

Texans have learned to agree to disagree on the key ingredient for the best beef barbecue.

Rosetta Burleson, a 30-year-plus veteran of the barbecue wars at Otto's, said that Texas barbecue is all about the red sauce. "While the beef is essentially the same, the red sauce is different everywhere you go," Burleson said. "Some red sauces are sweet tasting almost like spaghetti sauce. Some are spicy and then others are kicked up so much in the hot stuff that it's advisable to order a six-pack with your meal."

The red sauce on the three barbecue samples I tasted tantalized the taste buds, but it couldn't wipe out the memory of the vinegar-based sauce poured on Lexington barbecue.

Andy Guerrero, a manager at Goode Company, said that the best Texas barbecue taste comes from the mesquite-wood smoke that is cooked into the beef brisket for up to 18 hours.

"People look so much for the mesquite wood as a sign that we've got authentic Texas barbecue that we stack it out front," Guerrero said.

The mesquite smoke certainly provided an alluring aroma, one that let passers-by know that I'd been at a barbecue restaurant in the past few hours.

The samples of beef brisket slices tried without red sauce at Goode were the best melt-in-your-mouth barbecue I tasted.

But still, it didn't knock my boots - er, dress shoes - off.

The last sample came from Luther's in the heart of downtown Houston. This time, the choice was a barbecue sandwich that came with 10 thick slices on a normal-size hamburger bun.

The barbecue certainly provided the most smoky flavor of the three samples, but it also was the chewiest and least favorite.

The final conclusion: The Texas barbecue was tasty and filling, but there's no barbecue like home.

• Richard Craver can be reached at 727-7376 or at rcraver@wsjournal.com