The South has risen again and invaded the states North of the Mason-Dixon line and West of the Mississippi, all the way up into the Northwest and into Seattle; barbeque-wise anyways. It seems as though the shores North of Lake Union and the ship canal are fertile grounds for the seeding of barbeque restaurants. As of this writing I can think of three eateries that are intent on producing that most Southern of slow food, all within a ten minute drive of each other. I’ve written about Bourbon & Barbeque Grill and most recently I’ve discovered Smokin’ Pete’s BBQ. But just recently I learned of another spot by the name of Rowdy Cowgirl.

Rowdy Cowgirl inhabits a small spot along Stone Way that I affectionately dub “Fixture Row”, just North of 36th Street. While not much to look at from the outside, the inside is painted in bright colors and bedecked with shiny, light wood tables and countertops. I arrived just before noon for lunch and already there were customers filling tables and counter stools. The service was friendly even though it was stretched a bit too thin. One person in the kitchen and another manning the register was taking its toll on the speediness of getting an order placed. But once one gets to the till it’s all smiles and greetings so that tended to make up for a few minutes worth of wait. With my order placed I was on pins and needles to find out if I’d have another barbeque choice to add to my list.

The biggest reason I got so excited about this new eatery has everything to do with just one menu item, the BBQ Sundae ($5.95). Many people will be dumbfounded when they see this on the menu. No, it’s not a dessert but it is a Southern treat that is hard to find even in the land of Dixie. Traditionally served in a Mason jar, the barbeque sundae is a layered meal in easy to hold container, an original to-go food. The sundae from Rowdy Cowgirl comes in a plastic cup instead of a glass jar but it is nonetheless effective, though you do get less meal for your dollar. The layers went from just moistened cole slaw on top to syrupy, brown sugar and molasses beans to barbeque pork (There is also the option to get beef with this) all topped with several slices of pickle. Of the three layers the cole slaw layer was my favorite. Amounting to little more that shredded cabbage dressed with vinegar and spices the salad was tart and slightly spicy with a wonderful sprinkling of celery seeds throughout. The slaw was crunchy and warm and would have been a great contrast to a forkful of shredded pork barbeque but Rowdy Cowgirl had something else in mind. The second layer of the sundae, instead of being the traditional layer of meat, was beans. Sweet, with a hint of heat near the finish the beans were good but not as a middle sundae layer. By the time I got through most of the beans I was definitely ready for the main attraction - the ‘cue. What awaited me was bland pulled pork with little in the way of smoke flavor or any other real flavors other than the sauce the beans came in. You see, the problem with putting beans in the middle is that anything on the bottom basically becomes bean-ified, losing any hint of flavor it may have had.

It’s good to see that some effort is being put forward to indoctrinate Seattle to the nuances of Southern style smoked meats. Unfortunately it is still hit and miss on the flavor at Rowdy Cowgirl, but that can be true of some barbeque in the South too. Rowdy Cowgirl has a good premise and I like that they are trying somewhat obscure menu items on their list of offerings, I just wish they’d spend some more time on the meat. Until then, I’ll be taking my barbeque dinners at Smokin’ Pete’s BBQ or Bourbon & Barbeque Grill.

It’s nice to have preconceptions shattered. As someone who should really enter every dining experience with an open mind, I often find myself rolling my eyes or snickering at a particular restaurant or a person’s recommendation to me. It was on this very site, after a scathing review of Steel Pig BBQ, that it was suggested I visit Smokin’ Pete’s BBQ. Sure, this is another Northwest, Seattle-fied barbeque joint and while I haven’t presented a written review of all the barbeque I’ve eaten since moving to Seattle, I have eaten at nearly every ‘que joint I could find - with a few exceptions. Smokin’ Pete’s BBQ was one of the exceptions.

Not much to look at and somewhat hidden on NW 65th Street, just North and East of the main Ballard business district, I likely never would have found outpost to smoky meats had it not been for the suggestion. From the outside the building looks like most any other store front but it’s when you actually pull into their small parking lot and exit your vehicle that you realize that there’s something more to this place. That something more is the faint tinge of wood smoke in the air. Once inside, though not powerful enough to infuse one’s clothing, you are hit with a generous nose-full of the same smokiness. The dining room is large but you walk up to the counter (The cash register more specifically) and place your order off a laminated menu that sits on the counter. As you peruse the offerings you can also look into two glass cases filled with salads, sides and, most importantly, slow smoked meats. “But which of the tempting looking offerings should I get,” I asked myself.

I went the simple route, a time tested item that should be easy to get right, the Slow Joe Pork Sandwich ($6.95). The menu described it coming on a hoagie roll but I thought it was more like a section of French loaf. Whatever it was exactly it had been grilled, not griddled, but grilled so it had slightly bitter, smoky char lines running across the width of the inside of the two halves. This grilling gave the bread a good crunch that held up to the moist, smoke perfumed chopped pork that lounged in the bread’s embrace. Unlike some barbeque, pulled pork sandwiches being specifically what I have in mind here, the meat was minimally sauced, which is how it should be. You should be able to taste the meat and see the reddish pink tinting that is imparted from long, low smoke cooking. The two options of sauce are original and hot, I opted for hot. The sauce was a tomato-y sauce based on chili powder but had enough kick to make my tongue jump but not so much that my eyes were watering. It’s good to not that there are also squeeze bottles of sauce on the table from more original and hot sauces, to a sweet/spicy Thai sauce and, my favorite, a Carolina sour sauce which is a near perfect replication of North Carolina vinegar based sauce. Each bite of my sandwich was tender, meaty and moist from the falling apart chunks of pork, a bit of the fat and collagen from the cooking speckling the plate as it dripped from the sandwich to my hands and then the plate. Be sure to pick up napkins before sitting down as you will get messy. In a little cup, as a side, came crunchy, cool coleslaw. While it was drier than many people will like; I preferred the minimal application of dressing on this slaw, there was just enough to moisten the shredded salad and remind me that I wasn’t just eating raw cabbage. And this was a great topping to the smoky, meatiness of the pork inside the sandwich.

While Smokin’ Pete’s BBQ may not be 100% true Southern barbeque it is close enough to it that I can add another restaurant to my list of ‘que craving quellers. An added plus is the price. For under $10 a person can get a sandwich, side and a drink for lunch. While there are many fast food restaurants where you can get food cheaper for a midday repast, it’s unlikely you’ll find any as good.

After a long weekend away from Seattle, camping on the Oregon coast, I found myself Monday evening confronted with the task of unpacking my camp bag. As I pulled back the zipper on my dirty laundry I was confronted with the aromatic evidence of two nights of outdoor fires - wood smoke. While some may have immediately rushed said articles of clothing off to the washing machine, I inhaled deeply and drifted back to those cool evenings out of doors, with fragrant smoke wafting up from a burning hardwood fire. At once I started drooling. “Why”, you might ask? Well, to me, that smoky aroma reminds of nothing as sublime as barbeque and that fact that my clothes smelled like tasty barbeque made me want to drizzle on some sauce and stack them between two buns and go to town. But no, I held back for I was going to turn this smoky longing into a review of Steel Pig BBQ on Aurora Avenue in Queen Anne.

While I haven’t dared to venture far for barbeque in Seattle, having found one shop that does it well, there was no need to look further, I decided to expand my horizons and try the shop I saw so many times on my way into downtown. Having waited out Monday night and all day Tuesday I decided to head straight for the Steel Pig BBQ restaurant right after work. The restaurant of course was deserted as it was only 5pm upon my arrival. They have a walk up counter where one places their order. With two guys behind the counter, one on the phone, you’d expect an order to be placed quickly, not so much. Turns out the second guy had to wait for the first one to finish taking a call-in order before taking my order - strike one. Once my order had been placed my dinner was served up very quickly and I walked over to one of a few available tables.

It was a pig plate I ordered, the regular Killer Ribs meal (Regular - $8.50, Large - $12.00). In addition to two ribs of the regular meal I also received corn bread and a choice of side. My decision was for the black eyed peas and rice, strike two. The peas were over-cooked, mushy and flavorless. More like brown bean paste, while it wasn’t great, it was actually a highlight of the meal. The rice was tough and chewy, like it had sat out all afternoon and the corn bread was sweet and sticky. For those of you not from the south, corn bread should not have the texture and taste of sweet cake. It should be crumbly, slightly dry and savory. But of course let’s not forget what I came here for - smoky pork BBQ. Good barbeque is a subtle dance between dry, fat rendered rib meat and succulent, juicy, porky goodness. With just the right amount of smoking and slow cooking ribs should be fall off the bone tender but have the toothsomeness of morning cooked bacon. Steel Pig BBQ had none of that. What they had was fall off the bone, fatty pork spare ribs. They were juicy alright but from the unrendered fat of these near meatless rib bones. As for the smoky aroma and flavor that urged me to get barbeque in the first place? Missing in action. In my opinion these ribs had never seen a smoky chamber but had instead been cooked in a medium range oven. How this passes for barbeque is anyone’s guess - strike three!

After picking at my plate, taking a bite or two of corn bread and finishing off my bean mush I shuffled out of the restaurant, head hanging low and hunger still gnawing at my belly. My smoky clothes had teased me into wanting tasty ‘que but instead I was left bland pork and sides. It’s no wonder they are located next to one of Seattle’s tourist destinations, they are the only ones who’d eat this and think it was good (With the exception of Southerners). The Steel Pig can be sure of one thing, I will never be back but you shouldn’t feel bad for me; because on my way home I stopped off at Bourbon & Barbeque Grill for a tasty, smoky pork sandwich and boy was it good.

True, I have not been to many barbeque restaurants in the Seattle area since my relocation here nearly a year ago. As a matter of fact, to date, I have only been to two restaurants that dedicate themselves to selling ‘que. One was more a bar than a barbeque restaurant, which should have been a tip off right there that I was to be disappointed. The second was a restaurant that opened about a mile from my house. “Could this be barbeque worthy of Southern taste buds”, I asked myself. Well I was soon to find out as I made the short walk to Bourbon & Barbeque Grill.

I stopped by after work and though the restaurant opens at 4pm (I was there at 4:15pm) they don’t start serving food until 5pm. So, since I had some time to kill, I sat at the bar and indulged in at least one of their name’s sake, bourbon. Their selection was strong with only one minor omission, Jim Beam Black label, but I made due with a Maker’s Mark. Some chitchat with the staff while they rushed to get ready for the evening service and my bourbon made the forty-five minutes fly by. In no time at all I had my order placed and my skepticism on high.

It didn’t take long at all to get my order and put Bourbon & Barbeque Grill’s food to the test. First in line was an order of Fried Green Tomatoes ($2.50). This item wasn’t on the regular menu but instead was written on a board near the door. But do they ever need to make this a constant item. A little more thinly sliced than I typically would have made for myself the tomatoes were nonetheless sweet and tart. Incased in a crispy, crunchy batter that adhered well to the tomato slices, they were enhanced by what the owner call Jezebel Sauce. As for this when you go in. Apricot and horseradish may not sound like they’d go well together but applied liberally to the tomatoes and it gave a subtle kick that helped to actually bring out the tomato’s natural sweetness. I didn’t feel it worked quite as well with my sandwich but that’s personal preference.

Now, the sandwich. I ordered a BBQ Pulled Pork Sandwich ($8.75, add fries for $1.00). For those of you who may not be quite familiar with Southern barbeque, a pulled pork sandwich defines your “‘que”. Made, typically, from the cheapest cut on the pig, the shoulder, the meat in a sandwich can be succulent and tender or it can be filled with fat, gristle and sinew. As I write this I feel myself back at Bourbon & Barbeque Grill, sandwich in hand and that first bite. Immediately I was back in Tampa at my favorite barbeque shack. Juicy pork goodness dripping down my chin, a tart tomato, vinegar sauce teasing my tongue and a smoky goodness coming from the meat itself. This was good barbeque. Lightly sauced the chefs leave the meat to speak for itself. Done just to the point of melting away fat and connective tissue made for rich, moist pork. The light saucing allowed me to try a few of their sauces until I found the one that was right for me. The sandwich costs a bit more than I would pay in the South for pulled pork and the bun, I felt, should have been toasted to stand up to sauce and meat but these were only minor drawbacks.

If you are one of the above mentioned people who’ve yet to experience true Southern barbeque, this is the place for you to go. If you’ve had good barbeque before and have been found wanting for some of the same here, this is the place for you. If you live within walking distance and get a hunger for good barbeque more times than you’d like to admit; well then, this is the place for me.

I’m from the South. When it comes to barbeque, I know a thing or two. I’ve eaten at chain restaurants, nice mom & pop joints and even hole-in-the-wall stands. From Florida to Virginia and out West to Kansas City. While I may not be the world’s best expert, I know what to expect from tasty barbequed treats. Now, I realize that the Pacific Northwest is not known for its skill with slow cooked, hickory smoked meats but I was willing to give a chance to High Dive, Fremont’s recently redesigned bar (Formerly Suite G). I chose High Dive because I walk past it every day and what better place to put a barbeque restaurant for a displaced Southerner. Little did I know I was about to be extremely disappointed.

I ordered a beer along with a Pulled Pork Sandwich ($9.75). It arrived quickly and first looks held a lot of promise. But never judge a book by its cover. My first clue that High Dive knew nothing about barbeque was the froufrou bun the pork came on. It was reminiscent of a chibatta roll. Slightly dusty with flour on the crust, a soft texture with lots of large air pockets inside, “this was not going to stand up to a pile of juicy meat”, I thought. Most sandwiches you get in the South come on a toasted version of a hamburger bun and for good reason. Add a bunch of meaty juices, some sauce and if you don’t have a substantial bun, you’re in for trouble. After getting over my disappointment in the choice of bread I turned to the meat itself. Let me say this, while roasting has some similarities to barbequing (They both tend to cook the meats for a long time at a low temperature), it is not a substitute for a wood smoke fire. The meat itself was fairly bland, no smokiness, no pink tinge but it was tender and fairly well shredded. This of course was the meat in the middle of the pile I received, the meat that was not drowning in sauce.

Good barbeque should always be able to stand up without the need for sauce. A sauce is just “icing on the cake” as it were, for good meat. Well, the sauce that High Dive serves actually has more in common with icing than it does with real barbeque sauce. Candy sweet it overpowered any other flavors that may have been present in the sandwich. I couldn’t quite place it but the closest flavor I can compare it to is Asian sweet and sour sauce. This “barbeque sauce” has no place on any respectable pulled pork sandwich. The one redeeming aspect of my meal? The beer battered fries. Order them by themselves, with spicy ranch. They are awesome!

So was it too much for me to ask for a bar in Seattle to serve authentic barbeque? I say, “Yes and no.” I realize that the owners, cooks and bartenders of High Dive have probably never even been to the South, much less eaten real barbeque. But there are so many books, shows and websites dedicated to the proper preparation that there really is no excuse to serve lukewarm, bland meat swimming in a tooth-rottingly sweet sauce. Stick to the bar snacks and stop trying to have a theme.