The smell hits you long before you see the building. Hickory smoke drifts across the parking lot, a fragrant promise of slow-cooked meat and long hours over the fire.
That aroma is the first sign that you have found something real. This is not a place that rushes the process or cuts corners.
The pits are stoked before dawn, and the meat stays on the smoker until it is ready to fall apart. Old-school barbecue does not happen by accident…