It was well past sundown when the Ford Ranger rolled up to us in the shadows behind Roy’s. All the employees were gone, and we definitely weren’t supposed to be there. The headlights turned off & the truck crawled closer, like a predator stalking prey.
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.
The best description of Craig Meek’s Memphis Barbecue came around 2 a.m.: “You wrote a book about your city through [freaking] barbecue. How cool is that?!”
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.
