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Surprisingly, I’ve had some good barbecue in Brooklyn. It’s not something I make myself, due to the lack of a cohesive kitchen, grill, outdoor space, time, etc. Thankfully I’m not too far from this place:

The Smoke Joint in Fort Greene serves up some solid barbecue. The pulled pork is reliable, the smoked chicken is a great vehicle for both the sweet and spicy homemade barbecue sauces, the fries are done right and dusted with spice rub, and the beef short ribs are more than decent.

I’m not talking about food that is going to completely blow your mind. But for Brooklyn, it does a good job of satisfying my need for smoke, grease, and fall-off-the-bone meat. And, they serve Porkslap.

Fette Sau. It’s the type of place I dream about. Images of meat adorn the walls; beer tap handles are replaced with kitchen utensils that are better suited as props in a horror movie; meat is served on sheet pans; draught beer can be purchased by the gallon. Do I really need to say more?

I guess I could go on about how salty, smoky, tender, blah, blah, blah the meat was. I could rave about the beer selection. I could also get down to the excruciating details, like that there are no napkins but rather rolls of paper towels to catch the juice running down your chin. But I’m even starting to bore myself.

The bottom line is this: Fette Sau (did I forget to mention that it is German for ‘fat pig’?) is worth the trip out to hipsterville in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. And it’s worth the long wait (though, since there are separate food and booze lines, I recommend sending a friend to grab some drinks to pass the time). Well worth it.

Or does it?

I headed to the suburbs of Connecticut this past weekend to relax, cook and enjoy the foliage that Brooklyn generally lacks. I stopped here for some BBQ after a stint at a local farm and a trip to a restaurant supply store:

It’s a food truck of sorts, located on the edge of a parking lot, equipped with a smoker and everything. I ordered a pulled pork sandwich, brought it home, stripped off my clothes, got down to my underwear…and headed straight into the comfiest pajama ensemble available. Scarfed down the sandwich faster than I would have liked, but, as they say, it was good while it lasted.

Who knew Connecticut offered good BBQ? Not me. And I’m not really sure it does. But Big Country’s Hickory Pit BBQis worth checking out if you find yourself in Wallingford, CT.