Burnt Bottom in Dallas

Burnt Bottom in Dallas

Two-Meat Tuesday

Typically, a suburb, used to be a distant village, but now — Dallas is eventually nothing more than a strip center connected by freeways. Covers about a zillion square miles.
Prior to this, my only real exposure to burnt ends was Chuck’s place, now gone. Sad face.

Burnt Bottom in Dallas

My Sister and I rendezvoused in Dallas for my wee mum’s Scorpio birthday. At the Apple Store, the nice guys recommended a BBQ place called 10-fifty. Real name was Ten 50 with tag line about central Texas flavor, like, “You don’t have to go to Central Texas for great flavor.”

I would point to the namesake for my second book, Two-Meat Tuesday, derives its title from Central Texas BBQ. Dates from a time before BBQ was cool, too. But with the Lockhart lock on BBQ, and other offerings throughout, yeah, no, Northeast Texas wouldn’t be a spot.

My sister and wee Scorpio mum are vegetarian, so they claim.
Reminds me of the layout at Coopers Original BBQ, New Braunfels. I still think Black’s, across the street at the old Rudy’s New Braunfels location is better, but that’s me.

“Football, politics, and BBQ are the most hotly disputed topics in Texas. Of the three? BBQ is clearly the most important.”

Standing and looking up at the menu board over the outdoor pit, the meat guy in short sleeves, our eyes meet, I glance at an outline tattoo on his inner arm, glance back at him, “You look familiar.” I recognized the ink from some place. The guy himself was a large, largely interchangeable millennial with a mischievous, infectious grin.
“I get that a lot,” he smiled.
Sadly, I failed.
Half pound of brisket, no, make that a pound. He started slicing ribs, we wound up with maybe three-quarter of pound of pork ribs. Then I noticed burnt ends, in marker on the board. And torpedos.
Got a half pound of burnt ends, the choice end bits of brisket, thick with juicy smoke flavor and heavy bark. An amazing testament to the art and craft of smoking meats.
Pick up sister from the airport, “We got food, hope your hungry for some ribs.”
“You know I’m a vegetarian, right?”
And a Gemini, so, what was the point?
The brisket was good. Not superlative, but I have a higher standard than most. “Good” is a compliment. Pretty high bar to get past that. Pork ribs were OK. By no means exceptional, but surprisingly good to find in a strip-center adjacent location in tony North Dallas.
But it was good. Not great. But the brisket — I’ve had worse — good enough. However, there was a standout, new reigning champion, Burnt Ends.
Thrilled to recognize them on the menu, then more thrilled to have them be as good as they were.
Standing in the frosty cold North Dallas air, the cutter kept feeding me tidbits, first some brisket bark, then some of the burnet ends, then a slice off the end of the rib rack.
Some of the website short form suggested that good BBQ is salt & pepper plus smoke.
“Oh these are like meat candy,” my sister cooed. She came up with the name, Burnt Bottom.

the Portable Mercury Retrograde

Portable Mercury Retrograde – Kramer Wetzel

Portable Mercury Retrograde: astrofish.net’s Mercury in Retrograde