Sadly, my taste in BBQ has dwindled in the years since I've been away from the motherland. Last night it may have reached an all time low. A new "smokehouse" opened up less than a block from our front door so we grabbed our favorite Tenneseean and her southern yankee husband and queued up for some pulled pork, brisket and ribs. They were all ok enough to stuff our faces, but they were covered in sauce - a sweet sauce. The sides too were just ok and my drink, the very popular spiked cherry limonade was refreshing, but did not take me back my days of Sonic and raging hormones as hoped.
However, all of the items as a whole, and to the sounds of "Killin' Time" and "Chattahoochee" really worked. We scarfed down our sweetly greasy pork and not moist enough beef with the over vinegared collards and canned baked beans rather blissfully, discussing our pleasure that we had a "place like this" so close to our Brooklyn apartments.
All in all we had a great time with the shared good company and nostalgic soundtrack, but spotting this photo on the wall may have impeded any future trips to Mabel's Smokehouse:
Hook 'em!
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