Record’s Bar-B-Q doesn’t look like the barbecue places people argue about online. There’s no declaration of “best brisket in Texas,” and no wall selling merchandise that prominently displays its iconic Dallas name. Instead, there’s a small white building that resembles a converted gas station, bright red letters spelling out its founding year, and a line of cars that curls around the structure thanks to a drive-in-only rule that was implemented much later, perhaps a relic of the pandemic. What Record’s has always offered is memory for its South Dallas regulars.
Opened in 1969 by Albert Record Sr. and his wife Barbara, Record’s is among the oldest remaining Black-owned restaurants in Dallas. Its longevity has never hinged on trends. The sauce is still thin and watery, soaking directly into the bread and meat instead of sitting glossy on top of a buoyant brioche bun. Sandwiches come drenched. Smoky chicken is cooked until it gives up at the slightest pull, falling from the bone before it ever makes it to your mouth. A cooking style popular for many old-timers and appreciated best by those who are familiar.
What I discovered was that for decades, Barbara Record was a quiet constant behind that familiarity and provided invisible labor, mutual aid, and her own form of activism. She died in November at age 83…