The smell of smoked meat hits you before you even see the building. I pulled into a gravel lot and my stomach started making decisions before my brain could catch up.
Oregon has a barbecue joint where locals whisper about the brisket like it is a secret worth protecting. The meat arrives dark and tender with a pink smoke ring that tells you someone spent all night watching the fire.
I took a bite and the fat melted on my tongue while the peppery bark added just the right amount of crunch. Oregon really knows how to do low and slow cooking in a place that does not look like much from the outside…