Hill Country feels like a Texas roadhouse, but a little bit canned; “fatty” brisket. Photographs by Scott Suchman
For the June issue, I reviewed the much-anticipated barbecue place Hill Country, an import from New York City. Click here for the full review. It has the slick feel of a place about to be chained, the system of ordering and paying is—no pun intended—the pits, and prices are almost twice as high as at any other ’cue joint. But the “moist” brisket—more commonly known as “fatty” brisket—is superlative when it’s not oversalted. Tender and juicy doesn’t begin to describe it; the beautifully pink-ringed meat nearly melts in your mouth. And, like all great barbecue, it doesn’t need a lick of sauce.
None of the other meats on the menu match it; the tough, salty ribs are the biggest disappointment, but then Texans have always been more interested in brisket than in ribs or pulled pork. The smoked chicken and plain sausage from Texas’s famed Kreuz Market are both good bets. Over-ordering is a danger at this Penn Quarter market/restaurant. It takes an inordinate willpower to observe the meats under the heat lamps and not splurge, and these outtakes are nearly as tempting.
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