My birthday falls on the Fourth of July weekend—always has and always will—which brings with it its culinary highs…and even more highs.
That means that at least on the 4th, I’ll be devouring hot dogs and hamburgers, cornbread and corn on the cob, and baked beans with burnt ends all day long. And to set my birthday apart from the 4th, I’ve made it a day to celebrate myself with BBQ – lots and lots of BBQ. Meat redolent of smoke and sauce, tender and melting, so good I lose control. It’s my birthday, after all. I can still diet with… one more hot dog.
We live in a time where comfort food is not only desired, but essential. Oreo cookies are a comfort to me. So is dark chocolate gelato – the darker the better. And then there’s BBQ, the ultimate non-vegan experience. Munching on a nice meaty pork or beef rib or piece of brisket, slow cooked and filled with the flavor of burnt wood – that’s how you celebrate.
For standardization’s sake, we call it “BBQ.” I know it’s also called “bar-bq” and “barbecue,” and in more refined countries, even “barbeque.” But that “que” sounds pretentious. By changing “que” to “cue” and then to “BBQ,” there’s an element of Americanization at work that transforms the word from its French roots into street slang that smells of dingy bar stools, beer from a bottle, and whiskey from a jar.
BBQ is real people’s food. It may come dressed up in fancy clothes, but underneath it all there is a taste of smoky rooms and bad-tempered Saturday nights. BBQ is food you eat with your teeth, your jaw, your whole body. I’m not talking about quiche, I’m talking about ribs.
Ribs are not just ribs, of course. In addition to the quality of the meat – and the care with which the miner tends the fire of the large stone oven and the type of wood used to flavor the smoke – there is also the sauce, which often comes in two forms.
The first is what Texans call “sop” or “mop,” the marinade in which the meat is first marinated and then basted during the cooking process. The second is the sauce that is slapped on the ribs when the crucial moment of eating approaches. This sauce comes in mild and spicy versions. Don’t take these names lightly.
A few years ago, I was waiting for my ribs at the fabled Vic & Betty’s Soul Bar-B-Q in South San Francisco when the woman taking my order saw a pimp’s van roll by outside. “Uh-oh!” she exclaimed, “there’s that bad guy driving by. If he comes in here to get a piece, I’m going to give him the hot sauce to get rid of him.”
I swallowed hard and prepared myself for a long evening, as I had already ordered the hot sauce. She was right – I was sweating, panting, and making strange noises for hours.
These days, the most important thing for me is the taste of the meat, preferably untainted by sauce, which is why I love BBQ from the following local wonders, where smoke is not only in the air, but also in the meat.
Get ready to chew… with a smile. And for me, that means celebrating another year in high-cholesterol style. And in case you’re wondering, the best thing to drink with a barbecue is beer, preferably on tap. But a six-pack will do, too.
Dr. Hogly Wogly’s Tyler, Texas BBQ
8136 Sepulveda Blvd., Van Nuys; 818-782-2480, www.hoglywogly.com
Dr. Hogly Wogly’s serves Texas BBQ, which means there’s an admirable reverence for beef—and brisket in particular.
Beef brisket is one of the leanest cuts of meat, which means this is a diet meal in its own funny way. Not that anyone goes to Dr. H for a diet meal; this isn’t the kind of place where side options include cottage cheese and fruit salad. Aside from coleslaw, beans, and potatoes, the closest thing to a vegetable on the menu comes in the form of sliced tomatoes and sliced onions on the side. There’s also sweet potato pie, which arguably counts as a vegetable dish.
But back to the beef brisket: It’s the kind of dish you never want to finish. Every single bite seems to contain nuances, subtleties and tasty bits that you didn’t notice in the last bite.
When I’m craving pork, I go for the pulled variety – shredded and with lots of sauce. I prefer the baby backs, which are served on a rack, to the beef ribs, which require a lot of chewing; I’m torn about the spare ribs, which are served in portions of three or six. The hot links are always a good alternative; and if you need fried chicken, there’s fried chicken. It’s not a bad choice; it’s just not brisket.
Boneyard Bistro
13539 Ventura Blvd., Sherman Oaks; 818-906-7427, boneyardbistro.com
Bacon is a staple at Boneyard Bistro. There’s bacon in the hickory-smoked deviled eggs, which are also seasoned with smoked jalapeños and Sriracha—a dish that’s impossible to resist. There’s a small mound of bacon in the immodestly named Boneyard’s Famous House Cured & Double Hickory Smoked Bacon Building Blocks. There’s bacon in the cornmeal-breaded okra poppers—along with cheddar and cream cheese and Cajun ranch dressing. And, of course, there’s bacon on the wedge of iceberg lettuce. And on most of the burgers.
Trust me—I’m not complaining. Big and filling is another feature. They make doughnuts packed with Kobe beef chili and cheddar cheese. The macaroni and cheese isn’t just macaroni and cheese—it’s fried macaroni and cheese. That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but gold-plated macaroni looks a lot better now, doesn’t it?
There’s a salad with fried green tomatoes, okra, Stilton Blue, and Green Goddess dressing; and another with smoked chicken, quinoa, kale, and ricotta—which is pretty crazy. And the barbecue is just good—smoky, but not too smoky, and served in lots of combinations, including platters for you and everyone you’ve ever met.
The Evanator Platter (and no, I don’t know what that means) serves most of the menu for two to four people, although it should feed more than that. The Mini-Mega seats four to eight people, while the Mega serves eight to twelve.
#10 of 12 places to eat in San Bernardino
21818 Devonshire St., Chatsworth; 818-998-0755, www.lessisters.com
As befits a broad description like “Southern cuisine,” the cuisine at Les Sisters’ Southern Kitchen & BBQ is down-to-earth. There’s Cajun and Creole cuisine from N’awlins, smoky BBQ from the Low Country, classic soul food – even “Southern Burgers,” which are obviously Southern because they’re topped with the house coleslaw. In the South, they like their coleslaw. Everywhere and on everything.
But above all, they like it spicy; at Les Sisters’, there’s no holding back when it comes to spice. There’s no holding back when it comes to crunchiness either – there’s plenty of crunchy stuff on the menu.
And not surprisingly, the crispiness starts with the fried chicken, which is a masterpiece of the art of dipping drumsticks, wings, thighs and breasts in a well-seasoned batter and then deep-frying the chicken until it is tender and juicy on the inside, but as crispy as can be on the outside.
And I like the combination of two meats from the grill, a good deal that gives you chicken and a selection of sausages, BBQ beef, baby backs, spare ribs and even a honey glazed pork chop. I’ll take the baby backs, tender and sweet and, yes, they fall off the bone. In this case, the old cliche holds true.
The Bear Pit Bar-B-Que
10825 Sepulveda Blvd., Mission Hills; 818-365-2500, bearpitbbq.com
This northern San Fernando Valley legend dates back to the late 1940s, when founder and owner Ben Baier moved from Missouri and opened a “que shack” in Newhall, serving the Show Me State’s distinctive meats. Some 70 years and several changes of ownership (and location) later, The Bear Pit is a Mission Hills legend, a place that exudes age and tradition — and plenty of smoke in the “palate-tickling” meat dishes (beef, pork, ham, chicken and turkey).
The vinegary coleslaw and the sweet barbecue beans are particularly noteworthy. And the many combination dishes on the menu. This dish is best suited to large groups – large hungry groups – who like meat and smoked foods.
Big Pop’s BBQ & Grill
10755 Glenoaks Blvd., Pacoima; 818-896-5599, instagram.com/bigpops_bbq/?hl=en
Big Pop’s shares its mini-mall with a pizza place, a Thai-Chinese shop, a barber shop and a tattoo parlor with a good name – Sin City Tattoo. At night, Big Pop’s is a brightly lit shop; it glows as you drive into the mall parking lot. There’s a crazy assortment of signs on the walls – everything from “No High Fructose Corn Syrup” to “What If It’s Really About the Hokey Pokey?”
The menu here has all the highlights. I like the St. Louis-style pork spareribs, heavily seasoned with a spicy marinade, tender and chewy at the same time, a piece of meat that you can admire as you slowly chew each bite.
For those who don’t want to chew at all, there’s pulled pork, which is the definition of tender and soft on the tongue.
The chicken here is grilled rather than fried, which allows the sauces to penetrate the meat very well and every bite is filled with a spicy and pleasant taste of tender chicken and a palate-stimulating note of paprika and sweetness.
Merrill Shindler is a freelance restaurant critic based in Los Angeles. Email: [email protected].
