You've seen these pictures already, but I'll show a composite again as a refresher.
We looked at that trailer tongue protruding from a concrete foundation, and the building apparently built around a trailer, and decided that we had to ask about the structure. Besides, we were jonesing for 'cue. We climbed the steps and went inside.
Yep, it's a concession trailer with a building around it! When they opened for business on 2 September 2016, it was just the trailer. (It's still taxed as a concession trailer. I assume that's an advantage over being taxed as a restaurant.) The young man greeted us cheerily and invited us to look around and have a seat: there are three tables of varying sizes, and extra chairs for people to sit as they wait for their take-out orders. What would we like to eat? We learned about the brisket. It's cooked on the premises every day, mixed with his and his wife's own sauce of melted butter, herbs, salt and pepper (and vinegar?) and rewarmed upon demand. Barbecue sauce of their own devising is served with it. The meat is usually dipped in the sauce when served, but we could have the sauce on the side. We could buy brisket sandwiches, or buy brisket by the pound to take home.
Take a close look at this menu.
Build your own burrito! Pick your meat, pick your additions - what kind of cheese, chili, other fillers. Brisket in a burrito? I'd never had that. While we were looking over the menu the owner chatted on. He was a merry man, full of jokes and stories. He had been in the U.S. Navy, first on a destroyer and then on an aircraft carrier. While we were chatting another customer came in, and the talk came round to military service experience. Then it came back to food, sort of.
"Do you know what a MOAB is?" he asked us.
I thought quickly. I was fairly sure he was punning on, but not directly referring to, the military ordinance currently going by that nickname. "Mother Of All Burritos?" I guessed. He laughed. I had guessed correctly. This particular burrito involved 5 extra-large tortillas overlapping each other to make a long wrap, some of each meat, some of each filling, and so on. If I recall correctly, it had weighed 5 pounds. He's considered putting something like that up on the menu, but decided against it. How would he charge for that? How many people would be needed to order one?
I'd expected us to order brisket sandwiches for lunch, but my darling surprised me. "Let's get brisket to go for dinner tonight, and some chili cheese fries to tide us over until then." I was quietly dismayed. I have never, ever liked chili cheese fries. The cognitive dissonance of putting something heavy and gooey over long, thin fried potatoes is just too great to sound appealing. Then again, I haven't had chili cheese fries since I was about 8 years old, at an age when I didn't like chili under any circumstance. Maybe I'd been missing something. The proprietor assured us that he and his wife make the fries fresh with each order, make the chili on the premises, and offer a choice of cheese. I considered ordering regular fries for myself, but decided to keep an open mind. We placed our order, and he began adding up the charges. "Is either of you a veteran?" My darling is. "Well, that's a 10% discount!" The young man and his wife believe strongly that Service personnel (including domestic service people like firefighters and peace officers), who have given to their country, deserve something in return. Then he handed my darling a permanent marker. "The only condition is that you sign our wall."
My darling signed.
More customers came in. One warned us that the food was plentiful. A burger from this place was a four-hour affair, and he was still full from yesterday's experience. "I'll be eating lightly today!"
Our brisket came before the chili cheese fries. The conversation was fun while we waited. Eventually, our chili cheese fries arrived. We boggled and goggled. If you are grossed out by fats and carbs, look away. Now.
This was a paean to glorious excess. In my mind, the only thing wrong with it was - well, everything about its dietary implications. The chili was tangy - a little sweet, with a little bite, but not too much of either. The cheeses (I had asked for both cheddar and jack) were melted just the right amount, and a nice counterbalance to the chili flavor. I decided that my cognitive dissonance could be overcome. Everything about this was delicious, if you aren't horrified by fat and carbs.
While we gamely struggled with our "light lunch", the owner expounded on the fries. He said that he or his wife cuts the potato when an order comes, not a moment before. They only use Idaho Russet potatoes. No other potato has the right starch content. Judging by the size of this order, I'd say they must use "jumbo baker" sized Idaho Russets. When people ask for crispy fries, he said, he warns them that the fries will turn black. Apparently the owners don't rinse the surface starch off or mess around with double frying or other steps that have been discussed in these forums to produce crispy golden fries. On the other hand, this is honest potato - not the extruded stuff so common in fast food joints.
Eventually, we gave up the struggle and saved the rest for later. About half the order of chili cheese fries remained. I was very glad I hadn't ordered plain fries for myself. We bundled it all up, thanked them, wished them well, and went home.
Not shown: the almost-pint of barbecue sauce, and a separate container of pickles and onion slices.
This is the sort of place I would expect to have featured on Jane and Michael Stern's Road Food series. The food was good and excessively plentiful, the people are friendly, and the place is conveniently located on U.S. Highway 54 - a highway with enough traffic to support business but not so heavily traveled as an Interstate Freeway with its frequent fast-food-chain joints. It's inexpensive. The entire bill, with our 10% discount, was $15. We hope they do well, but we fear that they undercharge. Clearly, they're enjoying themselves. We wish them the best of luck.
