Words and Light

A little more than a week ago, my dad and I went to Lockhart — known as the “Barbecue Capital of Texas” — and sampled sausage, brisket and ribs at Smitty’s.

This past Sunday, my mom took my younger brother back to College Station (I’d taken him back home to Houston after I was done shooting the Texas A&M-Missouri game). I accompanied them, largely because of the promise of dinner at Rudy’s.

Rudy's of College Station.

My dad had sung Rudy’s praises enough for me to ready myself for another meat fest. What my dad didn’t know — until I told him the other day — is that Rudy’s is a chain restaurant. Which, inexplicably, is a little disappointing. You’d think, or at least I’d have thought, that you could find the best barbecue only at local, often run-down venues whose proprietors wouldn’t dream of opening another location.

But Rudy’s barbecue was pretty good, and their ribs were more tender than the ones we had at Smitty’s. And their “Sissy Sause” was an excellent accompaniment to their meats.

Bread, brisket, ribs and containers of coleslaw and potato salad, served in shallow crates at Rudy's "Country Store" and Bar-B-Q in College Station, Texas.

Bottles of "Rudy's Sissy Sause" line the windows of Rudy's "Country Store" and Bar-B-Q on Sunday, Oct. 18, 2010, in College Station, Texas.

A single rib and a few slivers of brisket were enough to fill me up, even though the only other food I’d had that day was a bagel at 8 a.m. Another meal of Texas barbecue was meat overload — yeah, I’m weak — and I decided to go vegetarian for a few days.

That is, until the next night when I saw a piece of leftover chicken marsala in the refrigerator.