5501 SE 72nd Ave
Portland, OR, 97206
503-560-9293
Portland has a surprisingly large array of barbecue joints to choose from- fortunately, I don’t intend to choose. I intend to hit all of them. So, after an enjoyable afternoon of crass and/or gory movies, my faithful editor and partner-in-’cue and I headed out to Smoky Mountain BBQ, deep in Southeast Portland. It’s a bit of a strange fit- Smoky Mountain is actually tucked away in the corner of the Queen of Hearts Tavern, sharing table space and a begrimed but very friendly atmosphere.
Smoky Mountain is primarily one Richard Day-Reynolds, a companionable Southerner who nodded at our full plates and commended our choice. He described his style of ‘cue as “modified mountain South” and damn, he does it well. The short menu on the wall (right next to the disconnected vintage arcade games) listed off the usual beef brisket, chicken and pulled pork, but also included the intriguing BBQ Meatloaf. I had to pass on it, though, as the beef ribs were beckoning. We both ordered the brisket and split a rack of ribs, but I supplemented my selection with a side of BBQ Black Beans. There was also a selection of the usual dirty rice, okra, mac and such, but disappointingly, no potato salad. Cornbread and slaw came with the meal, which racked up to $27 between the two of us- not bad at all for the heaping portions. I love the sauce and the meat and the trimmings, but one of the things I love most about the ‘cue is that every meal turns into several.
The ribs arrived first, with the sauce on the side- it was thick and sweet, but also a tiny bit spicier than I prefer. The ribs themselves were amazing. The meat didn’t melt off the bone, as is so often hyperbolically stated; it was far too dense and rich for that. These were some solid, heavy ribs with a good, tasty crust on them. I like a rib so good that you’re not ashamed to lick your fingers for that one last burst of flavor. The brisket arrived next (although it was served as the sandwich option, which I had not ordered) and was nearly as good; sliced thin on an unfortunately generic toasted sesame bun, it bore a delicious vein of fat running through right through the center, moistening the entire thing into a handful of awesome. If you don’t like fat, by the way, you have no business eating good ‘cue.
However, I have to save my highest praise for the slaw. Although my editor has an oft- and loudly stated dislike of the stuff, I can’t think of anything better to cut through the heavy sweetness of ‘cue than crisp, piquant slaw. Smoky Mountain’s didn’t disappoint; theirs was tangy and fresh, cut with a generous helping of celery and chopped (importantly, not shredded) red onion. Even though I was stuffed at the end of the meal, I couldn’t resist forcing down the last few forkfuls. The beans were not quite up to that level, although the stewed tomatoes were a nice touch. Similarly, the cornbread was adequate but not as special. That slaw, man.
Smoky Mountain BBQ is unassuming, boisterous and delicious. I suspect the reviews are going to keep racking up for them, especially if they keep those ribs that fine. The owner thanked us on our way out, but I had to nod back to him with “No, thank you.”
by Nathan Kamal
