I finally got to Smoque a couple of weeks ago for an early dinner on a Saturday night, maybe 4pm. By the time we got there, the line was out the door. Since it was early, they still had most everything except regular brisket, I believe. But they clearly were slammed.
Barry, who I have met socially a couple of times, complained upon seeing me that I had to choose this night, this time, to show up. I smiled and shrugged.
We ordered, found a table, retrieved our food and ate. The baby backs were very good, the chopped brisket and St. Louis ribs quite good (we did discuss why the baby backs had a whole lot more smoke flavor that time than the St Louis, but no one, including Barry, could explain that - the baby backs had been held a bit longer but apparently treated lovingly???).
The pulled pork did little for me, but as I have written before, pulled pork is something I rarely like that much - it almost always seems mushy and less flavorful to me, so take my criticism as general and not really specific to Smoque.
While waiting for the order, I hung around up by the kitchen and watched them work, and they were smoking in every sense. Watching them work was the high point of the meal, even if the food was very good. Beautifully choreographed, every move had a purpose, everyone was working as hard as they could. I was impressed by what they were turning out in that tiny space. If I were there I would either hurt myself or one of my coworkers or both.
Good meal, good price, fun show, but it was awfully crowded and by the time we left I do believe they were out of half the menu.
Yes, I think the guys at Smoque would say, a place can be too successful. I imagine an eight hour shift there on the weekend is grueling, non-stop work these days, and I know they would like to be able to double the amount of meat they can smoke, but they do not have the space for that capacity.
Sure, I would go back, but not on a weekend.
Followed that up with a relaxing visit to the Violet Hour, so I got two places I really wanted to visit out of the way that night. We opened that place up and enjoyed a few relaxing quaffs before turning our stools over to those much more hip than us.
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Feeling (south) loopy