BBQ Tuesdays: Squeal

After a long hiatus, BBQ Tuesdays is back again as we survey New Orleans' bastions to smoky, beefy, porky goodness. Up this week, the big red building on Oak Street.

When it comes to barbeque, I am a purist. Perhaps it's on accord of my college days in the Texas hill country, but to me barbeque is first and foremost about the meat. Sides, sauce, and surroundings are a distant second.

But that's not to say that a self-proclaimed barbeque restaurant which falls short on my benchmark is a "bad" restaurant overall. After multiple visits throughout this year, I can justifiably say that Squeal is a restaurant that I would happily return to for a meal, but I probably would not order traditional barbeque.

On my first visit back in January, I was determined to stick to the basics but was quickly sidetracked by what the waiter called an "experimental appetizer" called a pulled pork cake, which was mixed with cream cheese, deep fried, topped with pico de gallo, and zig-zagged with southwest sour cream. The rest, as some of you know, is food television history. Unfortunately, the traditional barbeque was less impressive. Chicken was juicy but lacked any noticeable smoke flavor, and the pulled pork was missing the delectable coating which comes from the melted collagen. I vowed to return for the highly touted nachos, ribs, and collard greens, the latter of which the waiter described as "sweet... like eating baby."

That is a direct quote.

My next visits were more of the same. St. Louis style ribs were tender but the flesh was disappointingly dry. Collard greens were a little sweet but also deliciously studded with plenty of pork fat, but the minuscule serving size left me wanting (a lot) more. In fact, save for the mountain of hot and crispy hand cut fries, the uniform $2.95 price for a la carte sides is a shade too high considering the size of the serving dish. On the other hand, entree portions are substantial and priced at a value.

Tacos are a relatively recent addition to the menu. The “DBLT” version were light on the duck, heavy on the crisp dice of bacon, and overall not worth the $9 price tag. I would opt instead for the nachos, whose thick cut tortilla chips held up well and stayed crunchy underneath the layers of pulled pork, black beans, and melted cheese. A pitcher of beer, order of nachos, and double side of collard greens, and I would quickly forget about the fact that I came here in search of brisket, cole slaw, and the like.

And there's nothing wrong with that. The hits certainly outnumber the misses at Squeal, and you can assemble an enjoyable meal from the food that the kitchen executes well. It's just not a standout BBQ joint.

Squeal - Par

BBQ Tuesdays: Bywater BBQ

When you hear the words "Bywater" and "barbeque," most people immediately think of Thursday nights at Vaughn's or pulled pork at The Joint on Poland Avenue. But those two words grace the signage of a third purveyor, Bywater Deli & BBQ, whose most popular menu option is probably... pizza? That's what I've been told.

Patrons at Bywater BBQ tend toward residents of the neighborhood and the adjoining Marigny, but the relaxed, bohemian atmosphere makes everyone feel at home. Tables are crammed close together inside, but the outdoor patio is where you want to dine as long as you can brave the heat. A trip to the unisex bathroom includes a chronological exhibit of former display signs. I just thought that was a clever and functional way to recycle.

While the menu runs the gamut from pizza to fried seafood and everything in between, this particular trip was official Blackened Out BBQ Business. So we ordered the 4 meat platter, which for $18.95 allowed us to sample each carnivorous choice on the menu, along with our choice of 2 sides and a couple of pieces of jalapeno cornbread. Plenty enough to split between 2 people.

The brisket, ribs, pulled pork, and chicken may all have been cooked “low and slow,” but the meats had no discernible smoke flavor. I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me that the kitchen uses an oven-to-grill method. Not that there’s anything wrong with that; it’s just not “real” barbeque. Ribs, pulled pork, and brisket were all tender, but the chicken was a little dry. All were served blanketed with the house special BBQ sauce, which is an almost identical replication of Bud’s Broiler’s hickory smoked sauce. I love it on my #4, and it did a nice job on the meats here. Sides are average: baked macaroni is a cheesy blend; potato salad has a nice chunky/creamy texture but not much flavor; and cole slaw has a sweet, mayo-based dressing. Best part of the meal: jalapeno cornbread with its light, crumby texture and vinegar-laced heat.

True BBQ? No. Terrible meal? Not exactly. Still craving top notch smoked meats? Absolutely.

BBQ Tuesdays: Hillbilly Bar-B-Q

Welcome to Blackened Out's newest weekly series where we start out with great anticipation, only to get bored after a few weeks and fizzle out in disappointment. With last weekend's celebration of July 4th, we have been overcome with an insatiable craving for meats slowly cooked over an open flame. We're talking barbecue, people, so unfurl that American flag and break out your favorite Springsteen album. Leave the cooking to someone else.

For some unknown reason, finding high quality barbecue requires a journey. In college we used to set aside an entire afternoon just to make the 30 minute drive from West Campus out to the Salt Lick in Driftwood. If we had an entire to day to spare, we would drive (or fly) to Cooper's in Llano. The same could be said in New Orleans, though the trek out to Harahan or New Orleans East is not what most people would classify as a "journey." For others, the metaphorical voyage is akin to a pilgrimage to the backwoods and rural roots of American barbecue. Rene probably put it best when he called me on his drive down Jefferson Highway to Hillbilly:

"Hey, I must have somehow missed it because I've been driving for so long that I've already passed East Jesusville and am fast approaching West Bumf*ck."

Hillbilly was started by Larry Wyatt, a self proclaimed hillbilly from Paducah, Kentucky, who boasts of trucking in hickory wood from his hometown to use in the smoker out back. This BBQ shack offers modified table service. Menus are already on the seat-yourself tables, and a waiter will come by to take your order. Drinks are self-service from a fountain machine in the dining room. The waiter brings your order to the table, and you pay at the counter when you leave.




Pork ribs are covered with a light dry rub and have a thick ring of smoke penetrating down to the bone. Brisket has a nice bark on the outside but the flesh was a wee bit dry. Same goes for the pork shoulder, which pulls apart into strands. Hillbilly offers two sauces (regular and sweet) both tomato based with a nice shot of vinegar.

The side dishes are truly what sets Hillbilly apart from the pack. Potato salad is German style with a little bit of mustard and a nice kick of heat. Corn salad is a cold, Yankee version of macquechoux - sweet corn, roma tomatoes and green onions held together with a bit of mayo. The chili has an exotic flavor attributed to the Native American relative who comes into the restaurant once a week to make it; you will taste cinnamon and maybe a little chocolate. BBQ beans are thick and sweet, while the cole slaw has a nice runch and tartness from its red wine vinegar dressing. Alligator sausage is phenomenal; in fact, it's so juicy and flavorful that we are almost certain that pork fat plays a large role in that link. The house specialty Hobo Taters are chunks of baked potato mixed with BBQ sauce and melted cheese and topped with sour cream.

Prices are a certified bargain. Platters – Combo pork/brisket for $10 and Ribs for $9 – come with our choice of 2 sides. You can even get a baked potato loaded with bacon, cheese, chives, sour cream and your choice of meat for $8. The Tuesday burger special ($7) is legendary among those who work in the area.

Is the food worth the journey? You tell us.