When faced with city ’cue, purists are quick to add the begrudging qualifier, “It’s pretty good…for New York.” This low and slow meat haven needs no such addendum—it’s mighty good barbecue, period. Read more.
Jersey-born Daniel Delaney—a bespectacled former Web journalist—might not seem like an obvious poster child for purist Texan ’cue. But the Yankee is turning out some seriously craveworthy meat. Read more.
Join a rowdy crowd of off-shift restaurant folk at the downstairs bar for a cocktail or slide into tufted green banquettes upstairs and feast on plates of Ole Hickory smoked Asian-accented BBQ. Read more.
High Line visitors will find red-blooded beauts like the top-notch brisket, an exemplar of sweet, no-sauce-needed meat and expertly charred peppercorn crust stuffed between butter-grilled rolls. Read more.
Satisfy your carnivorous cravings at this wood-clad 60-seat den with grass-fed meats, artisanal quaffs stirred by a mustachioed barkeep and house-made mason-jar lights hanging preciously overhead. Read more.
This Queens pit master nods to his Hill Country training with Lone Star State standards, reimagining the usual salt-and-pepper rub with fenugreek, guajillo and pasilla chilies. Read more.
Living up to its punny name, the focus is on the other white meat. Beneath a taxidermied boar’s head named Piggie Smalls, sink your teeth into sticky, succulent ribs or slow-smoked pulled pork. Read more.
The sprawling 6,000-square-foot hall—decked out with reclaimed lumber, long picnic tables and dangling turquoise lights—doubles as a beer garden, drawing a boisterous, Southern-comfort lovin' crowd. Read more.
While the J&R smoker was trucked in from Texas, the duo have kept their low-key chophouse Brooklynized with their protein locally sourced and the pits fueled with upstate sugar maple and red oak. Read more.
