L C's Bar-B-Q

You know you're heading into a great barbecue joint when the owner's "office" is the formica table in the corner - stacked with paperwork, half finished bottles of soda and coffee and maybe a...
Published by Avery G. More

You know you're heading into a great barbecue joint when the owner's "office" is the formica table in the corner - stacked with paperwork, half finished bottles of soda and coffee and maybe a baseball cap or two. You don't come here for the decor or the widescreen television playing CNN in the corner. You come here for the 'cue. Unlike the fru-fru 'cue shops in cities like San Francisco and New York, this joint puts the meat dead center... as in right behind the cash register - and when the smoke pit's black iron doors open up when one of the chefs puts in or pulls out some sort of succulent meat, all you can smell is sweet smoky goodness. The ribs look amazing, but the combo sandwich - half sliced brisket and half pulled pork with a side of fries is how I roll. The fries? Fantastic. The pulled pork? The best I have ever had, hands down. The brisket? Honestly, I've had better - not that it was bad - but compared to the pulled pork, it just wasn't spectacular. Next time, I'll try the burnt ends - they looked amazing. If you have a craving for the Q, the whole Q and nothing but the Q - jump in the car and head on over. You won't regret it.
Published by Avery G. Less

This is a real down home joint. The dining area looks like L.C.'s kitchen probably does and has for forty years. The smoker pit is right behind the counter and its blackend doors occasionally swing...
Published by Robyn O. More

This is a real down home joint. The dining area looks like L.C.'s kitchen probably does and has for forty years. The smoker pit is right behind the counter and its blackend doors occasionally swing open with wonderful odors pouring forth. Don't miss the big fresh cut french fries--they're better than my mother's.
Published by Robyn O. Less