I drive past Smoke Barbecue and Grill everyday on the way to the University of Tampa.
It sits on the corner of Platt Street and South Boulevard. The luring scent of smoked something has been calling me for months.
So, I decided to stop in one Sunday afternoon.
The small wooden building mimicked rural smokehouse traditions.
A metal screen door barred the entrance.
As I entered, the kitchen staff that I could see through the open window looked pleased to see a customer.
Other than a couple of two-tops, the place was empty.
A lanky, young server greeted me.
“Sit anywhere. Anywhere you’d like.”
I made my way through what I thought was the dining room.
There were open, airy windows, concrete floors, and outside furniture for tables.
But I found a door leading to a more traditional dining room, complete with wooden floors and cozy booths.
I chose a seat in one of the booths and ordered one of my all-time favorite drinks: IBC root beer in a glass bottle.
The server handed me two menus. I was confused as to the purpose of them, because they contained the same items on larger or smaller paper.
I chose to focus on the larger menu, and found the section I was looking for: the smoked meat selections covered almost an entire page.
They also offer sandwiches and kabobs, for those with a lesser appetite.
I settled on the Texas-style slow-cooked beef brisket that came with a choice of any two sides.
It was hard to choose from the twelve offered, but potato salad and passion pepper baked beans sounded like the perfect compliments to barbecue.
Curiosity overcame my rationality, so I also ordered the cornbread skillet.
While I waited, I hummed along to some classic rock playing overhead. Aerosmith, Journey, and the Beatles make excellent lunch companions, as it turns out.
Before two whole songs had finished, the meal arrived.
The plate was huge.
I began to worry about my ability to eat everything. Doubts aside, I delved in, taking full advantage of the two barbecue sauces on the table—one mustard-like and the other tomato-based.
I noticed a steak knife was absent, and almost asked my server for one, but I opted to try it with a butter knife first.
There had been no need to fret.
The brisket was amazingly tender and separated easily under the blunt blade. The thinness of the slices helped.
The flavor was indeed smoky, but also a little on the peppery side, which I thoroughly enjoyed.
The generosity in portion size didn’t end with the brisket.
Two large bowls contained the side I had ordered and the cornbread had come in a small skillet.
The potato salad was made from red potatoes chopped into quarters, and had a light, creamy dressing.
It was tasty, but a little fancier than I expected for such a country-style joint.
The same went for the baked beans.
They were delicious, and the dish was not restricted to the traditional one-bean stew.
They had thrown in a medley of beans, along with tomatoes, peppers, and pork. Again, a very classy side dish.
The cornbread was also a pleasant surprise.
Served with some kind of cheesy, buttery spread, it was perfectly moist and had small pieces of chopped jalapenos and onions.
It was the perfect sweet and spicy compliment to the brisket.
I requested a box to save myself. The server asked if I had saved room for dessert. I declined, but inquired as to the desserts they offer. When he said the words “pecan pie,” I knew I was doomed to continue my Thanksgiving binging.
The pie was amazing. It was everything a good pecan pie should be—warm, decadent and served a la mode.
Now truly filled to the brim, I sleepily paid my check and gathered my box, thanking the server for a wonderful all-American experience.
Moriah Parrish can be reached at mparrish@spartans.ut.edu