The Nominalization of Barbecue

From the Culinary Vault Dept.: Twenty years ago I was well into a barbecue craze that had me buying a succession of smokers and perfecting my dry rubs and sauces. Ironically, it also steered me away from barbecue restaurants, as I tended to enjoy my own fabrications more – but I remember Jr.’s BBQ in Burnt Hills as a particularly fine eatery. It’s long gone, replaced at that site by place selling sheds.

                                                                                     

BARBECUE INSPIRES SUCH PASSION in its fans that what once was adjective or verb is a richly portentous noun to those in the know. The only adjective regularly allowed beside it is “good,” and “good” means nothing less than excellent.

Generic Pulled Pork Photo

More elusive than good barbecue, it seems, are good barbecue restaurants. So it was a shock to discover that Jr.’s (that’s “Junior’s”) has been in operation for nine months, in a venerable Burnt Hills location that started life as a speakeasy, became one of the first establishments to sport a liquor license post-Volstead Act, then went on to become various restaurants, most notably Silvestri’s and Felicia’s.

Now it’s owned by Tom and Kristle DiPietro and it’s a seven-day-a-week barbecue joint that also serves sandwiches, wings, great desserts and a full spectrum of slow-roasted meats.

Because that’s the whole point of barbecue. You want to turn a tough cut of meat tender with a lengthy cooking process, and you want to impart flavors of smoke and a tangy marinade. Thus there are methods of grilling and smoking and roasting to use separately or in combination, the key ingredient being time.

Tom DiPietro has put a lot of that into the restaurant business, in which he’s been employed in one capacity or another for 33 of his 46 years. And he displayed his adeptness the evening I visited with family and a friend because mid-week business was slow enough for him to work it nearly alone.

We settled at one of the dozen tables in the spacious, casually appointed room. At one end is an L-shaped bar with the obligatory TV above it; elsewhere the seating suggests a pleasant saloon.

One of the joys of writing about a restaurant is the privilege it gives me to orchestrate a meal. Although I display a seemingly breezy, order-what-you-want attitude, I’m pretty quick to chart a culinary course through what’s offered and know how to nudge my companions away from the unnecessary.

We needed to cover ribs, of course, and barbecued chicken also is essential. With my friend Brian poised to polish off the former and my wife happily assigned the latter, I headed in yet another direction with an order of pulled pork.

Here’s how these dishes are offered. A list of eight platters presents the items in two sizes, more or less configured as large and regular. Additionally, the ribs (pork spare ribs and baby back ribs) and catfish are available in junior portions.

A full pound of spare ribs runs you $11, on a platter that includes two side dishes and cornbread, which I think is a terrific value. Add three dollars if you want a pound and a half. And they can’t be beat in the flavor department. I like a sauce that’s tangy with vinegar, and this one obliges, managing also to be sweet and full-bodied. The meat itself was sufficiently tender, although I’d give extra points if it achieved falling-off-the-bone status.

The half-chicken ($8.45) also showed excellent seasoning, and pleased Susan by being thoroughly cooked but not at all dry (oh, the arguments we have at home over poultry done-ness. That’s the real reason we’ve been deep-frying our Thanksgiving turkeys for the past couple of years).

I’m not sure when I’ve had a tastier plate of pulled pork ($6 for the regular portion, which I ordered, and $8.45 for the large). Pulled is just a polite way of saying chopped, but I was served a plate of extremely tender, good-sized pieces. Often in the past, what passes for pulled pork is a flavor-free mass, cooked without sufficient sauce. Not so here. This was delicious.

Why does corn bread go so well with such items? I think it’s all complementary, with the flavor of corn filling the space between barbecue’s tangy and sweet, the crumbly texture capturing the thick drops of sauce. In any event, good corn bread here, and we had biscuits as well when we visited.

Side dishes are served in smallish containers, just-right servings, I think, although presented with picnic-like informality. We sampled macaroni salad, cole slaw and cucumber salad, all of them very worthy preparations; the baked beans are exceptional, not surprising from someone who makes barbecue sauce so well.

We had a couple of starters well worth mentioning: corn fritters ($3.25), just what you’d expect, and a sensational mug of chili ($4), the real thing, made with chunks of meat and not polluted with tomatoes and beans.

Among the homemade desserts we sampled were pecan pie and apple crisp ($2.50 each), which also showed a talented hand with the pastries. Did I say that this meal was richly satisfying? It was a completely unexpected delight, with a welcoming atmosphere about the place and a sense of ease supported by good beer.

Dinner for three, with tax and tip, desserts and a couple of beers, was $63.

Jr’s BBQ, 658 Saratoga Rd. (Route 50), Burnt Hills, 691-XXXX. Good barbecue: ribs, chicken, pulled pork, brisket and you’ll find catfish, salmon and excellent chili here as well. Casual dining, friendly service. Serving Sun-Thu 11-10, Fri-Sat 11-11. AE, D, MC, V.

– Metroland Magazine, 23 May 2001