Here's something you might be interested in.
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed
Big Screen — Movie commentary
Blurt — Music's inside track
Booze News — San Diego spirits
Classical Music — Immortal beauty
Classifieds — Free and easy
Cover Stories — Front-page features
Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes
Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts
Feast! — Food & drink reviews
Feature Stories — Local news & stories
Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore
From the Archives — Spotlight on the past
Golden Dreams — Talk of the town
The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it
Letters — Our inbox
Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites
Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans
Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists
Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news
News Ticker — News & politics
Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated
Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna
Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated
Poetry — The old and the new
Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers
Reading — The hunt for intellectuals
Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails
San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds
SD on the QT — Almost factual news
Sheep and Goats — Places of worship
Special Issues — The best of
Street Style — San Diego streets have style
Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves
Theater — On stage in San Diego this week
Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative
Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work
Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego
Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads
Your Week — Daily event picks
All Things BBQ: the Wrangler Family Barbecue
In the wilds of East County, true pit barbecue awaits, ready to teach us all a thing or two about honest-to-goodness 'cue
Note the rich color and thick bark of the barbecue at the Wrangler
After all that talk about barbecue without a legitimate smoking pit, meritorious as it may be, this is where shit gets real. Walk into the [Wrangler Family Barbecue]1, where a taxidermied bison overlooks the dining room and Buck Owens plays softly from the radio, and it strikes.
The Wrangler's front window, all dressed up for Christmas
That smoke!
The aroma of woodsmoke lingers in the air, as if someone had set a campfire in the corner of the room and walked away. It creeps into the nostrils. It’s the smell of barbecue. A glance through the window into the kitchen takes in the view of the brick pit smoker, huge and stained with decades of burning hickory. Truly, the gulf yawns wide between this device and the Alto-Shaam. The Wrangler, drab as it may be, is the truth.
One bite tells the tale. The Wrangler’s spare ribs boast a thick bark on the outside, and the meat bears a pink tinge, a telltale sign that smoke and spices have penetrated the pork during hour after hour of smoking. Ham, the restaurant’s other specialty, bursts with juicy, smoky flavor. Roast beef also presents a thick jerky of crust yielding to tender, smoky meat below the surface.
Short and sweet, the menu doesn’t try to incorporate all manner of ‘cue. Pulled pork is only available Thursday and Saturday. Monday is beef stew. The rest of the time, ribs, beef, and ham compose the menu in its entirety. A combination with all three, including two side dishes, costs but $13.69 and will feed two normal eaters. Side dishes are slaw, beans, fries, or mac and cheese. Nothing more. The slaw is crisp, fresh, and green. The beans, sweet, thick, and savory. The sauce is bold, served hot and not enough of it. The menu's only real weakness is sub-par bread.
Coconut (and other) cream pie? Of course!
In a glass case, huge slices of assorted cream pies (only $2.99/slice) lurk alongside cottage cheese salads.
Quibblers might say that the place seems dated, or that the characters operating the business can come off a little on the gruff side. Those two things may be true, but anyone who wants to taste real pit barbecue should accept that fact that barbecue hasn’t changed much in the past seventy years, and that artists are peculiar people.
Put aside the prejudices and let the smoke take hold.
Here's something you might be interested in.
All Things BBQ: the Wrangler Family Barbecue
In the wilds of East County, true pit barbecue awaits, ready to teach us all a thing or two about honest-to-goodness 'cue
All Things BBQ: the Wrangler Family Barbecue
In the wilds of East County, true pit barbecue awaits, ready to teach us all a thing or two about honest-to-goodness 'cue
Note the rich color and thick bark of the barbecue at the Wrangler
After all that talk about barbecue without a legitimate smoking pit, meritorious as it may be, this is where shit gets real. Walk into the [Wrangler Family Barbecue]1, where a taxidermied bison overlooks the dining room and Buck Owens plays softly from the radio, and it strikes.
The Wrangler's front window, all dressed up for Christmas
That smoke!
The aroma of woodsmoke lingers in the air, as if someone had set a campfire in the corner of the room and walked away. It creeps into the nostrils. It’s the smell of barbecue. A glance through the window into the kitchen takes in the view of the brick pit smoker, huge and stained with decades of burning hickory. Truly, the gulf yawns wide between this device and the Alto-Shaam. The Wrangler, drab as it may be, is the truth.
One bite tells the tale. The Wrangler’s spare ribs boast a thick bark on the outside, and the meat bears a pink tinge, a telltale sign that smoke and spices have penetrated the pork during hour after hour of smoking. Ham, the restaurant’s other specialty, bursts with juicy, smoky flavor. Roast beef also presents a thick jerky of crust yielding to tender, smoky meat below the surface.
Short and sweet, the menu doesn’t try to incorporate all manner of ‘cue. Pulled pork is only available Thursday and Saturday. Monday is beef stew. The rest of the time, ribs, beef, and ham compose the menu in its entirety. A combination with all three, including two side dishes, costs but $13.69 and will feed two normal eaters. Side dishes are slaw, beans, fries, or mac and cheese. Nothing more. The slaw is crisp, fresh, and green. The beans, sweet, thick, and savory. The sauce is bold, served hot and not enough of it. The menu's only real weakness is sub-par bread.
Coconut (and other) cream pie? Of course!
In a glass case, huge slices of assorted cream pies (only $2.99/slice) lurk alongside cottage cheese salads.
Quibblers might say that the place seems dated, or that the characters operating the business can come off a little on the gruff side. Those two things may be true, but anyone who wants to taste real pit barbecue should accept that fact that barbecue hasn’t changed much in the past seventy years, and that artists are peculiar people.
Put aside the prejudices and let the smoke take hold.
Comments