“Think where you are, girl!” the hostess with the rhinestone hoops yells in faux outrage when asked about the “pumpkin” pie in the display case. Outside, you’re in Northern Virginia. Inside, you’re in Dixie. From the papier-mâché pig-angel to the sweet-potato pie in the display case, this barbecue joint serves up good humor and food that tastes like it actually was made by human hands.
The ribs are tender if unremarkable, but the sauce for the pulled-and-chopped pork is so packed with tang that you want to lick it off your spoon. Rich and juicy, the smoked chicken falls off the bone, a mass of smoke and deep tomato flavor. Fried catfish is crisp, plump, and piping hot, perfectly matched by a side of flavorful collards.
And in case the rhinestone lady forgets to tell you: Save room for pecan pie.
Open daily for lunch and dinner.
Ann Limpert joined Washingtonian in late 2003. She was previously an editorial assistant at Entertainment Weekly and a cook in New York restaurant kitchens, and she is a graduate of the Institute of Culinary Education. She lives in Petworth.
