My car smells like hickory smoke, and honestly, I’m not even mad about it. They say true love is hard to find, but I think I just stumbled upon it in a unassuming little building tucked away behind a nondescript storefront.
I consider myself a bit of a connoisseur of all things grilled, but the ribs I devoured here were a religious experience.
The meat literally fell off the bone before I could even pick it up, draped in a sauce so complex it deserves its own legend. If you are wandering through Washington and find yourself craving authentic, slow-cooked perfection, do yourself a favor and pull over immediately…