It’s good to change things up on occasion.
Keep things fresh. Keep things interesting. Keep things exciting.
So, yeah, put down the turkey and let’s focus on brisket for a while.
Grab some wet-naps and say hello to Babb Bros BBQ & Blues, a relaxed counter-service operation for hickory-smoked brisket, sauce-slathered ribs and (pending liquor license) frosty buckets of beer, opening Thursday at Trinity Groves.
There are places you go for quiet lunches and lightly dressed salads. Well, maybe you don’t go, but point is: they do exist, and this isn’t one of them. This spacious across-the-bridge shed is the place you go for sweet and tangy St. Louis–style ribs, smoked meat loaf and cheesy potatoes. Also, red-and-white checkered tablecloths, picnic tables and beer signs. You call that barbecue-eating decor.
Anyway, come hungry and line up at the counter. Request a plate of ribs, a slab of dry-rubbed, slow-smoked beef brisket and maybe some vinegary slaw. Then, head through the red double doors to find a seat. Perhaps along the guitar-lined wall. Perhaps in the evergreen-shaded yard (you like to eat your ’cue in private).
And when you’re out in that yard, look toward the corner. You’ll see nothing. Right now. But soon, there’ll be a little stage over there for live blues performances.
Because barbecue and death metal would just be weird.
Keep things fresh. Keep things interesting. Keep things exciting.
So, yeah, put down the turkey and let’s focus on brisket for a while.
Grab some wet-naps and say hello to Babb Bros BBQ & Blues, a relaxed counter-service operation for hickory-smoked brisket, sauce-slathered ribs and (pending liquor license) frosty buckets of beer, opening Thursday at Trinity Groves.
There are places you go for quiet lunches and lightly dressed salads. Well, maybe you don’t go, but point is: they do exist, and this isn’t one of them. This spacious across-the-bridge shed is the place you go for sweet and tangy St. Louis–style ribs, smoked meat loaf and cheesy potatoes. Also, red-and-white checkered tablecloths, picnic tables and beer signs. You call that barbecue-eating decor.
Anyway, come hungry and line up at the counter. Request a plate of ribs, a slab of dry-rubbed, slow-smoked beef brisket and maybe some vinegary slaw. Then, head through the red double doors to find a seat. Perhaps along the guitar-lined wall. Perhaps in the evergreen-shaded yard (you like to eat your ’cue in private).
And when you’re out in that yard, look toward the corner. You’ll see nothing. Right now. But soon, there’ll be a little stage over there for live blues performances.
Because barbecue and death metal would just be weird.
