Fox Brothers and Heirloom - Atlanta BBQ

Plenty of barbeque joints around Atlanta.  Most are about as genuine as a Hollywood boob job. Thank da Lawd, there are two super exceptions.  For my money, Atlanta BBQ is all about Heirloom and Fox Brothers.  Period.

I wrote about Heirloom previously.  Here’s the link:

http://stroudallover.blogspot.de/2013/11/heirloom-bbq-in-hotlanta.html

I despaired of finding another smoky haven, but then a thoughtful friend dragged my hungry self into Fox Bros.

Fox Bros means BBQ Texas Roadhouse style.  Looks like a converted barn, inside and out.  That’s a good indication that you’re strolling into the heart of barbecue country.

Of course, as every man who’s ever lifted a beer at happy hour on a Friday night knows, looks can be deceiving.

Fortunately, that’s not the case at Fox Bros.  ‘Shamefully delicious’ jumps right off the menu and that’s only the start.  Ask your server about the specials.  Go ahead, punk…ASK!

OK if I skip most of the palaver and get right to the food? Thanks, ‘cause my mouth is watering just thinking about it.

Beef Rib with a side of Brunswick Stew

The star of the show, on this particular hot, thirsty afternoon, was succulent, well-smoked beef rib.  Yep, that’s singular.  Thickly peppered and meaty.  Anybody who can eat more than one of these hunks needs to live on the prairie and track down his own buffalo.

Fork tender, yet succulent and every morsel bursting with flavor.  To get beef this tender, you have to smoke it longer than it takes to sit through four blind dates sober.

What else is worth the mention?  Just about everything.  Pulled pork is as it should be, flavorful and juicy.  Ribs?  You bet!  Then there’s something called Brisket Taquitos.  Cheese, smoked beef, vegetable bits, and a special sauce, tightly wrapped.  Grab some Chicken wings with the look of aged mahogany and the taste of barbecue heaven.

Beef Taquitos

That’s it?  Barbecue.  Not by a long shot.  Take on some Brunswick Stew, grab an order of fried pickles.  Pick out your favorite beverage from the well stocked bar.  I chanced on a Mimosa.  Fresh juice and champagne.  An unconventional choice, but an excellent counterpoint to the spicy Q.

Fried Dill Slices

Mimosas

Think you can make barbecue in the smoker at home?  You’re welcome to try.  Fox Bros sells jars of both sauce and rub.  The problem is, at home you’re contending with a bunch of different things you probably haven’t considered:  type of wood for smoking.  Temperature control.  Smoke control.  Tending the fire - for long periods of time you can’t spare.

I often say that barbecue is more than the cut of meat, the equipment, and the time.  It’s part science, but mostly art.  All cooking is like that to some extent, but barbecue requires a special skill all its own.  Look around.  Do some tasting.  Every BBQ joint the same? 

Fortunately for the folks who live near Atlanta, or are passing through, I’ve done the work for you.  Only two names you need to remember, Fox Bros and Heirloom.

Ok, let’s split some hairs.  Which one is better?  I simply cannot answer the question, but I can point out some differences.  Heirloom is strictly a standup and eat affair.  Also, the four or five sauces are each wonderful, with separate flavors and spiciness.  Plus, because one of the chefs is from Texas and the other from South Korea, you get flavor combinations and accompaniments that catch your eye and take your taste buds where they’ve never been before.  However, the Q (and especially the ribs and brisket) are always the main events.  If you go expecting barbeque taken to the highest level, you’re always going to get what you came for.

Need to sit down with a group of friends and linger over lunch or dinner?  Fox Bros every time.  The beef is out of this world and there are many more traditional side dishes.   Don’t expect the unexpected…with one huge exception:  you’ll never experience BBQ that’s any better than this.

Two Atlanta BBQ things to remember:  Heirloom.  Fox Bros.

Link to Fox Brothers:  http://www.foxbrosbbq.com/fox-bros-atlanta-bbq-menu.html

Heirloom BBQ - in Hotlanta!

The outside ain't nothin' special, but inside....oh, man!

When you talk about barbeque, you’re talking about old jeans, standing outside, and moving around to keep the smoke outta your face. Anything else is only make believe barbeque for folks who would rather be at Starbucks and think mayo is spicy.

The word itself is strange.  Some end it with que and some with cue.  Some just write it as BBQ or Q.  The word has a dimly lit past, but probably comes from an Indian word meaning 'no sex until the meat is cooked.'  Hence the need for slow cooking. I made that up.  It really means sacred pit of fire.  Which I suppose could also apply to sex.

You’ll find the good stuff all over the southeast United States, from the lapping waters of the Atlanta on the east coast and west through the blazing sun of Texas.  But, the type of barbeque changes. A few geographic hints tell you what to expect.  The further west you go, the more likely you’ll be eatin’ beef and red sauce.  Come east from Texas and you get more and more pork. North Carolina and north, you’ll have pork with vinegar-based sauce.  Cross the line into South Carolina and Georgia, and it’s pork, with a mustard based sauce.

In this day of cultural homogenization, you’ll likely find bits and pieces of each, but it’s rare to find a Q-Joint that does all of it well.

I found one, at 2243 Akers Mill Rd. Atlanta, GA.  It’s just off Hwy 285 and no matter where you are, make the trip!  Heirloom Bar B Que.  This is old-fashioned style Q, which only comes from hours and hours of smoking slabs of meat over a wood fire, with nothing hurried.  When you're doing barbeque, there's no substitute for low temps and lots of time.

At Heirloom, you’ll get smoky Q at it’s very best, whether you’re talkin’ fall-apart beef brisket, or pulled pork.  Have a particular style sauce you like?  They’ve got it.  Best of all, everything’s made in-house. 

Have you noticed a trend in the kinds of food I like?  First off, it’s fresh with a CAPITAL F!  Secondly, the chef (or in this case Chefs) have got to be passionate about what they do and how they do it.

Chef Jiyeon Lee is a South Korean native.  Taylor Cody is a Texan, transplanted.  Both labored through their apprenticeships at a list of places that would grab any knowledgeable foodie’s attention. You can read all about both chefs on the Heirloom web page.

http://heirloommarketbbq.com/Home_Page.php

What makes a great Q joint?  First off, it’s got to be so understated and unpretentious that the food is the only reason, outside of a flat tire, or medical emergency you’d give the place a second thought.  If it’s a chain, forget it. Packaged sauces? Climb back in your car.  But, if you don’t see a barbeque pit and smell the smoke, RUN.

In Heirloom’s case, you pull into a partially overgrown parking lot, and soon figure out you don’t have to go through an old convenience store to get to the food.  It’s next door. Walk in, belly up, and before the screen door flaps closed behind you, a smiling face will take your order.  While you wait on your grub, grab a white, plastic spoon and taste some of the sauces in a rack on the wall behind you. Take your time.  They’re all wonderful.

Heirloom is tiny, with an eclectic interior, and sensationally efficient service.  Grab your paper-wrapped bag of goodies, follow the crowd outside, and stand at an elbow-high table to savor the smoky flavors of a barbeque paradise. The sacred fire pit is right next to you.

I had the brisket and thought I’d been transported to Texas.  Brisket has got to be tender.  These savory slices fell apart.  Another in our party ate succulent pulled pork and said not one word until every scrap of the sandwich disappeared. Our fairest member dug into a half rack of fall-off-the-bone pork ribs.  She didn’t offer to share.

Specials and sides change by the day or the week, or whenever.  I had Korean style sweet potatoes, thinly sliced, fried, doused with a sweet soy sauce, and sprinkled with white sesame seeds.  A perfect accompaniment to the spicy, smoky tang of the brisket.

How do I find these places?  I often wonder that myself.  We’d driven four hours, and passed through on our way to somewhere else.  Just happened to read Heirloom had been named the Best Barbeque in Atlanta.  Never heard of the place. Culinary luck on a grand scale.

Now Heirloom's barbeque fills my dreams and as Ah-nuld says, Ah’ll be bock!

Americana à la Carte

When you enter an American city, even a small one, the tendrils of old time America trail off and disappear into the bulldozed, concreted urban mass.  I’m taking about the fruit and vegetable stands, the mom and pop groceries, the cheap diners with stained tablecloths, and the seafood shops whose hot grease aroma washes over you when you step out of your car.

Across the street from where my parents once lived, there used to be a good-sized stand with a hand painted sign advertising sweet melons.  Bushel baskets of brown skinned onions sat about.  Hand-sized wood cartons of bright red tomatoes, green peppers, green cased ears of corn, and yellow summer squash sat on long, trestle tables.  Down the street, a BBQ joint selling thick sandwiches of smoked pork welcomed you with wisps of fragrant smoke.  No longer.  They’ve been replaced by a branch bank and a big-chain supermarket.  You want some Americana, you have to venture farther a field.  Don’t even bother to look until you glance out the window at green pastures and rows of corn.  That’s when you find out it’s not just the vegetables and BBQ that’s missing.

I was outside Whitesboro, Texas, when I stopped at a vegetable stand.  Didn’t need vegetables.  “I’m lost,” I confessed to a man in jeans, a calico shirt, and a baseball cap.

“Fred,” he twanged at one of his customers, “Do you know where (whare) that road is?”  Fred didn’t know, but he suggested the guy running the bait shop next door might.  I started to walk that way, but Fred had already left.  “Jest a sec,” the owner told me.

About 30 seconds later, the man from the bait shop walked in.  Turned out he didn’t know either, but he led me back to his shop where he had some maps.  The maps did no good, so he called his friend who’s a fireman.  A little while later, I was on my way straight to my destination.  Folks with big, friendly hearts are never too busy to help.

I’m pleased to report I found similar hospitality in the sprawling outskirts of Atlanta.

Truett Cathy’s first Atlanta restaurant was called the Dwarf Grill, a humble beginning to what has become the second largest fast food chain, Chick-fil-a.  Now a nation-wide collection of 1500 plus restaurants, with over $3.2 billion in annual sales, something new has been added, a group of nostalgia-laced eateries called Truett’s Grill, featuring a 1950’s era décor, complete with old cars, gas pumps, naugyhide covered booths, a toy train that races above the diners, and one heck of a southern breakfast.  But, more than that, the waitresses greet you with a “Mornin’, Hon” and hustle to take your order.  Coffee appears as if by mental telepathy.  All of this reflects the humble beginning and humble heart of their employer, Truett Cathy.  Never met the man myself, but good or bad, everything starts at the top.  Talked to a couple who go to church with Truett and couldn’t stop talking about all he’s done for the community and especially for small business just starting out.

Best of all was the breakfast of fried chicken filet, two eggs over easy, grits, and biscuit.  But, I have to admit the meal tasted a little better knowing about the warmth of the man who made it possible.

On the rough edges of Orangeburg, South Carolina, I found Duke’s BBQ.  Found it on a Saturday, as I passed through. Normally, I'm not attracted to BBQ restaurants with a buffet.  Normally.  Dukes was different and even if the smoked pork lacked a bit and the green beans were cooked past their prime, it was still worth a stop, just to observe the folks inside.  If the rough edges of South Carolina still hold to the old ways, you’d never notice at Duke’s. People of every background flock to the place.  High school grads, still wearing their mortarboards came in with their families.  Workmen wore stained clothes while they gobbled their ‘cue.  In one corner, a family and friends in coats and ties and dresses sat and prayed before digging in.

I’m not one of those who hunger for the good old days.  I like some of the big chain stores and the convenience of Internet shopping.  Sill, it’s nice to know the simple, friendly heart of America still beats as strong as ever.