When something is thought of as “the best,” its popularity skyrockets all out of proportion with its quality. One has only to visit NYC to witness this in action – there are a million cool things to do, but the crowds only want to do the top cool things. The distribution curve of people vs. ranked cool things probably looks like a Zipfian power-law curve, where the #2 cool thing is half as popular as the #1 cool thing, #3 is a third as popular, and so forth. The popularity increases in proportion to rank, not quality, and #1 might only be a tiny bit cooler than #2.
This brings us to Franklin BBQ in Austin, TX. When Marianne asked Jack of Jack’s BBQ in Seattle what BBQ he was inspired by in Austin, he said Franklin. For a state with as much pride as Texas in BBQ, I knew that choosing a lesser well considered BBQ place as my representative for the style would be unjust. Franklin BBQ it was, and it is considered by many to be #1.
Franklin opens at 11 AM. By that time, so many people are in line that if you get in line after the place opens, they will be out of some items. Perhaps all the items. In order to be guaranteed some of everything, people suggest you arrive by 9 AM. If you want a place to sit for your wait, you need to be in the first 30 or so people – arrive by 8 AM. If you want to be sheltered from the sun during your wait, you probably want to get there between 7 and 7:30 AM. And if you want to be first, you’ll be the person there at 4 AM with your sleeping bag. I got there at around 7:45 AM. Got a chair – yay! In the middle of the unsheltered parking lot. Boo. But I brought the hat I bought for hot air ballooning and there are pink umbrellas for Marianne and the other hatless folk. Whew!
Fast forward 4 hours, and I’m thinking hard about where my career is going to go next. I find that I’ve picked up a cold and can’t smell things very well. I am definitely sitting behind a pile of the finest brisket I’ve ever tasted. Also ribs. Also pulled pork and sausage.
Texas style BBQ shows off how good the quality of the meat is. The spicing comes from dry rub, and you can have a slice of white bread with it if you want. I’m not exactly sure what the white bread is for – I think its role is kind of like an edible napkin. Maybe a palate cleanser.
Is Franklin the best brisket I’ve ever had? Yes. Also ribs and pulled pork. But consider that this is the first really serious BBQ place I’m eating on this trip, and the rest of my BBQ experience is limited to the pacific northwest – a region not previously associated with a good BBQ experience.
It’s hard to describe how exactly it is different from the brisket at Jack’s (they are actually kind of close) or Bitterroot or Kickin Boot, or RoRo. It’s like the difference between regular salmon and copper river salmon. More satisfying rough-but-tender texture, a stronger meaty flavor, and other signs that someone has put a lot of attention into making it into something people like. The nicely-peppery-but-not-show-stealing dry rub. You don’t have to cut anything with a knife because it’s perfectly cooked.
Once, after a hundred-mile bike ride, I pondered how good the most humble food tasted when you’re famished. I imagined creating a restaurant where you had to hike dozens of miles before your meal, to help create the most delicious meal experience possible. I think there’s some of that to Franklin’s wait. It’s not the only reason it tastes incredible, but I know it doesn’t hurt.