Percy Street BBQ: Will Philly Bite on Texas BBQ?
For the moment, nobody cares.
“I’ll have a Shiner Bock,” Erin says to the young waitress, and we all follow suit. Erin has a subtle Maryland drawl and a face that just looks Southern: It’s flat, with soft features that are rarely painted with makeup, and brown hair that’s naturally shiny because it’s untouched by chemicals. She was talking up Shiner on the plane coming down, a fond memory from her Houston days. The dark, full-bodied Bavarian-style beer is served in an ice-cold mug and tastes great as an unofficial start-of-trip. “Could we get a mug chiller?” someone asks.
We wait for our first barbecue to arrive. Besides Michael and Steve and Erin, along for this trip are a trio of former Zahav and Marigold Kitchen employees who’ll be working at the new place: one manager, one server promoted to assistant manager, and a line chef who’s being bumped up to sous-chef. Rounding out the group are some hungry significant others, a photographer, a cameraman, a restaurant equipment supplier, and me.
“Am I the only one who thinks this isn’t that good?” someone asks. It’s true — our first bite of brisket is disappointing. It’s been cooked for three and a half days, and it’s rubbery, undersalted and way over-smoked. “That’s three days too long,” says Michael. This may be our first taste of Texas, but we know it’s not right.
“Man, we are tough critics,” Erin says back out under the Texas sun as half the group lights up cigarettes — restaurant workers still smoke like it’s the ’80s — before moving on. “But even if we learn what we don’t like, what we don’t want to do, that’s something.”
“I’m not expecting too much from Dallas,” Steve, soft-spoken and fair-haired, says as we head that way. “I think the stuff in Hill Country is going to be really good.” We pass by a huge planned community called Lakes of Prosperity.
“Somebody write that down,” says Erin. “It would make a great name for a drink.”
DAY TWO
By 7:30 a.m., we’re heading east of Dallas to J&R Manufacturing, in Mesquite. This is the factory from which Steve Cook ordered the smokers, and since no one in the group has ever worked with an industrial smoker before, our visit is vital. Steve, Michael and Erin bought two of a 2,200-pound model called the Little Red Smokehouse, for its Ferrari-red color and relatively small size (for Texas, anyway); at the moment, the smokers are sitting in a warehouse in Cherry Hill. A week ago, a structural engineer told Steve he’ll have to reinforce the Percy Street floor before the smokers can be installed — a small hiccup, considering they’ve spent $40,000 on buying the things and moving them East.
