When I rolled up to Allen and Son's Pit BBQ, I had renewed hope for North Carolina BBQ. The rickety sign gave off a rustic feel. These people clearly cared more about the food than any superficial appearance.Yesterday's venture took us to #4 on the Best of the Triangle list for Best BBQ. Allen and his spawn came in at #2. Why did I not hit-up #1? Because it had the word chicken in the name. And we all know that BBQ has four legs.
Learning my lesson about the chopped pork (simply referred to as BBQ here, ie. BBQ sandwich, BBQ platter, BBQ by the pound), I went for the ribs with a side of slaw, potato salad, and the mandatory side of hush puppies. But we don't care about the side shows...it's all about the main attraction.
First impression came from the vinegar-based sauce dripping from the ribs. My philosophy: if you smother it in sauce, you're hiding something. And typically that's a lack of flavor. I like my BBQ sauce sitting in a bottle on the table next to the silverware. Both are there for precautionary reasons; I only use in case of an emergency. But I digress.
Allen clearly makes an effort to hickory smoke his ribs. But he can't quite muster the flavor his Texas or Memphis cousins can.
It was a fair, but messy meal. Definitely better than the Ole House. But suffice it to say, this #2 wouldn't even make it into the top #5 in little ole Lockhart, TX. By the way, Eddie, the convenience store next to Allen's was called Lockhart Junction Store....I shit you not. Coincidence? I think not. Just a reminder of where the real BBQ lives.
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