You Want Unreal BBQ? Have A Smoque

Being from the embarrassing cousin to the south, Florida, I have a pretty strong appreciation for good barbecue. I grew up visiting my father in North Carolina, Mississippi, and Georgia while visiting other loved ones in Tennessee and Alabama. I also lived in Texas for two years. I feel similar with BBQ as I do with Mexican food and pizza; I can eat pretty shitty BBQ and still enjoy myself, but I prefer the amazing stuff, of course. I’ve written about a couple BBQ joints here in Chicago which I enjoyed thoroughly, but nothing compares to my recent experience at Smoque. I left uttering those famous last words, “best barbecue ever.” Smoque is located on north Pulaski and Grace avenue, just south of the Irving Park blue line stop. This northwest side neighborhood is unchartered territory for me. This city is too huge for me to ever explore it all. The amount of restaurants I’ll never eat in is a soul-crushing reminder every day of my life, but I’ll do what I can, I’ll bite off as much as I can chew and afford and regurgitate my experience here if it’s worth it. And Smoque is unbelievably worth it. Holy hell in a hand basket.

We went fairly late in the evening on a Friday night. They close at 10 p.m. There’s almost always a line out the door. If this flummoxes you, turns you off or makes you hesitant to visit, don’t listen to your brain. Listen to your belly and your heart and go challenge them both with the most flavorful, tender meat you’ll ever consume. While you wait in line you can gawk at the people who’re already eating, try to figure out what they ordered and feel out what excites you the most. I went with mostly new visitors and one person who’d dined there once. He insisted we order certain items and given my indecisiveness when ordering food, I let him lead the way. He ordered for us both, 1950’s style, and the little lady that I am was relegated to my seat to anxiously await my succulent food.

For the longest time, I have been dry rub resistant. I’m not allergic. I don’t hate it. I just don’t love it. At times the ribs I’ve ingested in the past that were dry rub were just that, dry. I like me some juicy meat, so tender it’ll quench your thirst. I was astounded by the incredible flavor of Smoque’s dry rub ribs. Not only was the combination of spices interesting and wildly delicious, but the meat fell right off the bone and into my mouth with ease. Not to be outdone was the brisket, that easily shredded with a light amount of pressure from my plastic fork. Their two sauce options were each perfect additions. My fork ventured over to the spicy side more, but the sweet rocked my world as well.

I loved their coleslaw, a side item I’ve loathed for most of my life, in particular mayo based coleslaw. I love mayonnaise, don’t get me wrong, but the snotty consistency in most coleslaws left me underwhelmed and unimpressed. I enjoy a good NC style vinegar slaw and this was almost a Midwestern twist. No mayo, vinegar base, refreshing and satisfying. Their mac n’ cheese was pretty stellar. It looked, smelled and tasted homemade, made extra special with a bread crumb topping. Yum. I enjoyed my taste of their baked beans very much, as well as the peach cobbler we ordered in droves.

This place is an indulgence. I care very much about how my body runs and how consciously I’m eating. I love animals and I am very concerned not only with how this country processes meat, with how the animals are treated and therefore how the food we are consuming makes its way to my plate, but also with the quality of food I choose to digest. Eating BBQ everyday is most likely a one way ticket to diabetes and other health related issues, but treating yourself to a place like Smoque is something every human being deserves. I shared a rack of ribs, side of brisket, coleslaw, mac n cheese and peach cobbler with my love and it was more than enough. Savor every bite. Lick your fingers. When something is above average good, it doesn’t take much to satisfy. And that rule applies to more than just food.

With food, friends, beverages and daily choices, quality is always important and moderation is key. I genuinely believe we can enjoy all the fruits of this amazing existence healthily, by providing our own balance. Eat those greens and the nutritious offerings from nature and then pepper it with some treats, some tender meat, a small but satisfying portion of cheesey goodness, and maybe a little sweetness to top it off. Wash it down with plenty of water in between good craft beers and share the meal only with those deserving of your time and energy. Life’s too short to waste your senses on mediocrity. Eat and love well.

Danielle Robinson Yoga teacher/ Writer You, Me and Yoga Makes 3 on Facebook Follow: @mastic8onthis on Twitter

Give birth to a redneck food baby @ Honky Tonk BBQ

Ya’ll want some sweet tea? Come to Honky Tonk BBQ. Award winning pulled pork, brisket, baby-back and St. Louis style ribs, smoked chicken, home-made cornbread, and the impeccable creamy and crunchy mac n cheese are just a few southern style items this Pilsen gem is slinging out to customers on a consistent basis. Even as a North-sider, I’ve made the trek down south, to 18th street and Racine, for this delicious fare. Twice. And you should too. I first heard of this place because my guitar guy (he has a name, it’s Matt, but he’s endlessly referred to as my guitar guy. I’m wondering if I’m the yoga chick or what he may call me.) plays with his two-man lefty band, the Northside Southpaws, every Friday night. A fellow foodie, he described the legitimate sounding dishes in a way in which I knew I’d have to make it down, someway somehow. At the time I did not have a car, and it was cold, so I elected not to take a 30 dollar cab ride but to wait, until it warmed up, and until my brother moved up here with his car. Much better.

Cut to my first visit. A good friend and another fellow food-whore came to visit (we are the quintessential Never Not Hungry girls) and we set our sights on the south, both in our culinary quest and our geographical route. Our group from the north side drove down to Pilsen and met some great yoga friends of mine, one in particular was a Pilsen resident and shares the same priorities in life, good food, good people. We walked in, gawked at the enormous ceilings and southern decor, making our way to the back, to an American sized table, big enough to fit our group and our appetites.

When I allow the desire and anticipation for a certain type of food to build, piling onto what is already a famously large appetite, I attack a restaurant like a junkyard dog, as if it may be my last meal for a while. Gnawing hunger in tact, I take what is mostly a psychological craving and order with my cohorts the equivalent of a last supper. I can barely remember that first time, except waddling out of there. Not the type of food I can eat every day, or even every week, if I want to maintain healthy cholesterol and insulin levels, and so I prepare for a 2-3 month digestion period and anxiously await my next visit.

Almost exactly two months later, the opportunity arises to return. Visiting relatives are already downtown, drenched in humidity, jaded from fellow tourists, ready to eat and drink in air conditioning. Conveniently leaving their car in my neighborhood gave me the opportunity to chauffeur them around, choosing today to take Lakeshore drive, a consistent reminder of why I love Chicago. I squeezed myself amongst a billion cabbies on the hectic Michigan avenue, a quick trigger as to why I hate driving in Chicago, picked up my dinner mates and continued south to 18th street.

Sitting at a round table, perfect for the 5 of us, I was pleased to see the Southpaws were both in house and playing that evening. I quickly ordered a trough of sweet tea, one of their delectable, home-made corn bread muffins, and some fried green tomatoes for the entire clan. I can vouch for the pulled pork, the ribs, brisket, rib tips and every single side available. I love when a restaurant surprises you, adding a few little gems to the menu you wouldn’t expect. On this occasion I opted for the green BLT, a sandwich consisting of fried green tomato, peppercorn bacon, fresh greens, and garlic mayo on two ciabatta rolls. It was the best BLT I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a few variations, even making my own on panini nights. This takes the cake. Scarfing it down with mac n cheese, slaw, greens or yams puts icing on that hickory smoked cake. Another little surprising delight, bacon candy. Unbelievable. Try it. I wish I lived closer.

The only thing I care for and appreciate more than food, is the people I choose to eat with. On both occasions we had great company, open-minded folks game for whatever slabs of meat or butter filled concoction you can imagine. It made the sweet tea even sweeter and the emergence of the inevitable food baby that much easier to take care of. It takes a village, and in our case loved ones from all over the globe join us for the sacred act of eating, and the following act of nurturing the aforementioned food fetus. Honky Tonk provides a great atmosphere, quality music, and heart challenging meals. I suggest wherever you’re from, you make the trip.

Whether you’re from the north or south, there is sustenance to be ingested. Fast food will always be there, make it an event, get pumped up for what you’re about to experience. Make the drive, make the room, enjoy.