There are those who will tell you that I hit Sonny Bryan’s on a bad day, Mikeska’s too late in the day, Rudy’s too early in the day, or Cooper’s on the wrong day. All that may be true, but to earn and keep the title of “Best Barbeque in the State of Texas and Thus the World,” according to Jim McLaughlin, there can be no “bad” days. For a barbeque place to be that good, they must be absolutely excellent on their very worst day.
“They must be absolutely excellent on their very worst day”. That’s what I said and that’s what I meant.
The only place I know that gets close to that description is Goode Company Bar-B-Que in Houston. I have found it impossible to get a bad slice of meat at Goode Company, no matter the hour and no matter which location. The Block Men, who do the slicing, are long-time employees that have worked up thru the ranks and are artisans of their craft. They are looked up to by their fellow employees and are responsible for serving a high quality product, keeping the line moving and the waiting time short. They don’t get excited, they take pride in their work, and they do it well.
On a typical day, Goode Company (in every location) has a line from about eleven a.m. until about one p.m. It starts outside, snakes in past the open drink boxes full of iced-down soft drinks and a great selection of cold beer, and slides on past the Block Man. You pick up a drink and order from the Block Man: brisket, spicy pork, sausage, pork ribs, or Sweetwater duck. He’ll slice it quickly and pass it down to the next fellow, who will add your choice of sauce, potato salad, jambalaya, beans, Cole slaw, jalapeno cheese bread, plain bread, or a homemade bun. Everything is absolutely fresh and all the bread was baked that day. You can add pickles, onions, jalapenos, and maybe a slice of the world’s best pecan pie. You move past the cashier, pay up, and find a table. The whole process takes less time than getting a menu at most restaurants.
I usually have a sliced beef sandwich on jalapeno cheese bread, with sauce on the side. On a recent visit to Houston, I went by Goode’s to check my memory. I did not believe everything could have been as good as I remembered. Sure enough, my memory was faulty. It was better than I remembered.
I know a lot of you are going to disagree with this, and swear by your favorite places, and rant and rave and stomp and holler. Do us both a favor. Arrange to get to Houston, and go by any Goode Company location and eat whatever you want. You’ll know that I’m right, whether or not you admit it. Please don’t dare try to convince me that some other place is better if you haven’t eaten at Jim Goode’s. After eating at Goode Company, if you truly believe you know of a place which serves better barbeque, please let me know. I’ll try it with an open mind. I’m nothing if not flexible.
If you look into the history of the best barbeque places in Texas (and thus the world), you will discover a lot of similarities in their background. Many began as a meat market or grocery store and started making sausage and/or smoking barbeque to augment their income. They opened in the late thirties or forties, when times were hard and folks scratched for every dime they could get. Most were family affairs, held together by grit and determination. In these ways, the history of barbeque parallels the history of Texas. Gritty, determined people, who would rather die than quit, squeezing out a living with limited resources, and hanging on until prosperity finally came. They all paid their dues.
Jim Goode paid his dues, perhaps in a later time frame than many others, but with no less difficulty. Times were still hard in the seventies and Texans still scratched for every dime they could get. He was a burned-out commercial artist in his thirties when he sunk everything he could beg, borrow, or steal into a closed up location of Hickory Hut. The place was on Kirby Drive, just off the Southwest Freeway in Houston and badly in need of a coat of paint.
Jim worked long hours, nursed the business, perfected his recipes, and gradually built up a following among barbeque nerds. He told me once that many nights he slept on a table in the dining room to watch the fires and not over-cook the meat. He also said, “Mama sometimes burned the beans.” Jim’s son, Levi, takes care of the business now and wouldn’t think of sleeping on a table. The business is far past that point. But Levi will do, just as his dad, “Whatever it takes.”
I covered several thousand miles on this search, and investigated hundreds of places---big fancy ones like “The Salt Lick” near Driftwood, and little joints like “Hat Creek” in Pettus. I sampled brisket down the street from the Rios Boot Factory in Mercedes, and at the H bar C in Brownfield. (Motto: Eat here even if it kills you-we need the money.) In addition to the places in Lockhart, I visited world famous places in Elgin, Luling, Taylor, and all the neat spots along the “Barbeque Belt” southwest of Houston. Regardless of what I may have said above, ALL THIS BARBEQUE IS GOOD AND MOST OF IT IS EXCELLENT. When you get a chance, go eat some. It’s the Texas thing to do.
I don’t know when I’ll get back to anything else about barbeque, but one day I will finish up the Houston cook-off, and I’ll tell you about some of the other places I visited. Meanwhile, I have been ignoring Texas wines, interesting architecture, country music, and special recipes that I want to share with you. Outside barbeque, my other food passions include, but are not limited to, Mexican food, chili, hot sauce, peach cobbler, pecan and apple pie. I like all these done from scratch, but I’m not going to start writing about any of them real soon. Like barbeque sauce, beans and potato salad, they are art forms within themselves, and I may not live long enough.
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| Goode family early on in the Barbeque business. Last time I saw Jim, he'd shaved. I'd guess this to be late seventies. Levi is the little boy in front. He's the Head Honcho now. |
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