The road to barbecue is paved with good intentions. Unfortunately, the pavement is a little hinky. You're cruising along — no problems; everything's cool — then you hit a pothole that snaps your axle like a chicken bone and slams your jaws together like a Great White chomping a surfer. Despite its owners' intentions and custom barbecue equipment, that's the way it goes at Smokehouse Grille & Wingery. Start with starters. Fried mac 'n' cheese: greasy triangles of tasteless calories and cholesterol. Pothole. Pulled pork: bland and stringy. Pothole. Wings and St. Louis-style ribs: meh... Pothole. Beef brisket: nice bark but as old and dried out as Joan Rivers. Major pothole. Rotisserie half-chicken: not bad; even the breast is juicy. Cool. Baby back ribs: surprisingly good — tender, smoky, moist, and meaty. Very cool. Sides: beans, slaw, potato salad. Cool too. For dessert: peach cobbler. Sara Lee baked with toxic waste. Serious pothole. I think my axle's broken.
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