You get to towns like Bryan, Texas by driving long miles. You drive past grazing cattle. You drive past trees of oak and mesquite. You drive past the ingredients, what the barbecue is made of.
It was about 3 a.m. and time to eat dinner again. Even before leaving the Northeast, we’d labeled the ribs at Alex’s Tavern one holy grail of our Memphis quest.
The Ribs. Succulent, platonically moist, fall-aparty, infused with Memphis-style charcoal smoke, served with a dusting of finishing-spice and a side of sweet house sauce. In other words, perfection.