Rediscovering the flame: The Dynamic Evolution of Texas Barbecue from Smokehouses to Craft Icons

Could Texas barbecue’s transformation from small-town smokehouses to elegant craft cuisine truly be considered an evolution or a revolution? Seventeen years ago, a barbecue road trip through central Texas revealed a culinary landscape dominated by small-town smokehouses. texas Monthly‘s top fifty barbecue list, updated every four years, declared Snow’s in Lexington home to the best brisket, overseen by the legendary Miss Tootsie. This humble establishment, open only one Saturday a week, offered sausage, brisket, and pork ribs for $8.45 a pound. As one observer noted, I’ve heard it argued that, absent some slippage in management, a barbecue restaurant can only get better over time: many texas barbecue fanatics have a strong belief in the beneficial properties of accumulated grease.

But the dominance of small-town barbecue is fading. While Lockhart was declared the state’s official barbecue capital in 2003, the 2021 Texas Monthly list featured no Lockhart establishments.The rise of “craft barbecue,” a term gaining traction around a decade ago, signifies a shift. This new style emphasizes high-quality meats, carefully prepared sides, and a chef’s precision applied to what was once considered humble fare. Daniel Vaughn, Texas Monthly‘s barbecue editor, explains that It signifies that other barbecue people—old-school barbecue people—aren’t paying that close attention. I usually just call it ‘big-city barbecue.’ And I call it that because it requires a population base of people who have enough money to support it. that just doesn’t happen in a small town.

This evolution is evident in the Michelin Guide‘s recognition of Texas barbecue. In its inaugural Texas edition, four of the fifteen starred restaurants served barbecue, highlighting the elevated status of the cuisine. This creates an engaging contrast: high-end craft barbecue restaurants, often with decor reminiscent of roadside shacks (neon beer signs, newspaper clippings), charge prices comparable to steakhouses, even while describing their food as American peasant food, working-class food, and poor man’s food.

A visit to Micklethwait Barbecue, a popular Austin establishment housed in a renovated Baptist church, illustrates this change. Here, brisket costs $32 a pound. Clayton Cook, manager of LeRoy and Lewis Barbecue, a fellow austin establishment, explains the economics: if you run a steakhouse and you buy five pounds of good rib eye, you’re selling five pounds of good rib eye. But you get a ten-pound brisket and you trim it—now it’s an eight-pound brisket. You throw it on the smoker and it cooks for twelve hours—now it’s a six-pound brisket.And not only are your products getting smaller and smaller, but your overhead, your labor, is getting bigger and bigger, right? He further details the labor-intensive process, highlighting the multiple staff members required for trimming, cooking, and slicing the brisket. Cook also emphasizes the importance of brisket’s integrity: A lot of people talk about ribs falling off the bone—that’s not what you want. I can bite into this easily, but you can see how it’s maintaining its integrity. nice smoke on it, too.

The high cost of brisket, frequently considered a loss leader, has even sparked controversy. The high price of brisket is sometimes cited as a sign of a culture in decline. LeRoy and Lewis,the first Austin barbecue joint to charge $30 a pound for brisket (now $40),faced initial backlash. Tom Micklethwait, owner of Micklethwait Barbecue, offers a philosophical viewpoint: Barbecue, when it’s done well, it’s like folk art. It’s the people’s food, definitely unpretentious. A lot of it is indeed very regional. It’s a way to explore local culture. He acknowledges the influence of Austin’s tech culture, adding, that said, Austin culture is now a lot of tech bros. So maybe, in that context, it makes sense.

Daniel vaughn’s journey from Ohio, where brisket was corned and boiled and served with a side of limp cabbage, to becoming a leading Texas barbecue authority, mirrors the evolution of the cuisine. His book, “The Prophets of Smoked Meat: A Journey through Texas Barbecue,” chronicles his exploration of texas barbecue, from humble beginnings to the rise of craft barbecue. His blog, Full Custom Gospel BBQ, provided early rankings of barbecue joints, highlighting the diversity of styles across the state, from the sweet sauces of East Texas to the barbacoa of South Texas. He notes the challenges facing rural barbecue joints, citing factors like urban sprawl, globalization, and climate change. Texas’s best barbecue is a rural creation. He observed, before the arrival of Aaron Franklin.

Aaron Franklin’s Franklin Barbecue, initially a food truck, revolutionized the scene. His meticulous approach, using pricier prime-grade brisket, earned him a six-star rating from Vaughn and widespread acclaim.Franklin’s success coincided with Austin’s real estate boom and the rise of Instagrammable food. The multi-hour lines at Franklin Barbecue became legendary, with even President Barack Obama ordering $300 worth of barbecue for Air Force One in 2014. The impact was profound: It was, like, holy moly, we’ve got a thing here, one fourth-generation barbecue family member recalled. The pre- and post-Franklin eras are distinctly different, with the latter seeing a rise in quality across the board. In the pre-Franklin era, “the Top fifty list would come out and maybe fifteen of them would be legitimately very good,” Cook told me. “Today, there will be maybe forty places that make great barbecue and still don’t make the list.” Vaughn’s career trajectory, intertwined with Franklin’s, reflects this transformation, showcasing the growing appreciation for a once-humble food.