Willie Jewell’s a Gem of a Joint in Lexington

Born from Bono’s Pit Bar-B-Q, a Jacksonville staple since 1949, Willie Jewell’s Old School Bar-B-Q offers tasty fare in a faster, more casual setting. The latest installment at Saluda Pointe Court in Lexington, SC joins a growing list of Wille Jewell's restaurants spread across Florida, Georgia, and South Carolina.

I’m not usually particularly interested in chain restaurants, as I find the single locally-owned joints much more noteworthy and typically tastier.  After reading the Willie Jewell’s story, though, I became fascinated and decided to give it a shot.

Smaller than your typical barbecue restaurant, Willie Jewell’s Lexington location gave me a quick sense of uncertainty as I approached the entrance. Not sure barbecue should follow the fast food, assembly line path that has been followed by sandwich delis, Tex-Mex restaurants, and pizzerias. Granted, I enjoy those types of restaurants and they fit a busy schedule nicely. Still, barbecue? Smoking meat is not a quick process. Or shouldn’t be. Plus, when I want a chopped brisket sandwich or a 2-meat plate, I want to go inside, observe the carving, hear the chopping, sit back and take in the whole experience. Then, as I leave, possibly stuffed, I want to smell like the smoke from wood of choice at that establishment. It’s heavenly. Not quick.

My worries were soon assuaged as I passed a stack of split wood and stepped through the door. The service was quick, but it was definitely neither fast food nor assembly line. I admired the menu – extensive enough to require multiple trips to try it all, but limited enough to allow the restaurant to stick to doing what it does best – barbecue.

I was accompanied by my son and wife and we attacked the menu like a dedicated (and hungry) Wally Q team. I chose the 2-meat platter of brisket and sausage. My son went with a 2-meat platter of his own with turkey and pulled pork. My wife followed suit with a 2-meat choice as well – turkey and brisket - just on a salad. She’s much more disciplined than I.

Four types of sauces were offered at a self-serve counter. Low Country Gold was exactly what you’d expect and common to the Carolina area – slightly sweet and tangy with a hint of vinegar. Sweet and Sassy was exactly that, noticeably sweeter than the others with a touch of spice. Hickory Heaven, thickest of the sauces, had a definite sweet, smoky flavor and a rich deep color. Hot Momma had a delicate kick with a dash of sweetness. But, you know me – I want to taste the meat, not disguise it. So here we go…

The pulled pork had a delightfully clean, smooth essence with a refreshing smokiness that didn’t overpower the pork flavor. Neither dry nor greasy, this offering earns its own spot in the heart of pulled pork paradise.

The smoked sausage carried a tame but tasty flavor, and a little softer than I prefer. Still, I had no trouble gobbling down each juicy slice.

The smoked brisket delivered well, especially for South Carolina. The flavor didn’t blow me away, but it was certainly enjoyable. Brisket is not the easiest meat to prepare, but the longevity of the Bono’s/Willie Jewell’s method definitely shows here.

The crown jewel (see what I did there?) of the meal was the smoked turkey. This is worth the trip, folks. Juicy, but not greasy. Super tender. Wonderful smokiness. Absolutely fantastic. In fact, the turkey earns the industry-craved distinction of Wally Q! Congrats, Willie Jewell’s.

A quick word about the sides I had the privilege of sampling: The hush puppies were crisp with just the right consistency and pop. The delicious green beans were cooked with chopped meat, like all green beans should be cooked – chopped brisket in this case. The fries were on par, and the mac and cheese was hot and cheesy. Oh yeah – the salad? Let’s just say they were not sparing with the meat. I recommend, you guessed it, the turkey as one of the toppings.

Finally, the décor was inviting and appropriate. Ordering was easy and the service was fast. The crew was friendly and the sweet tea was sweet and fresh.

I’m not here to claim that this is the best barbecue I’ve ever eaten. It’s not. But it is pretty darn good and I will certainly return. Besides, I still need to taste the catfish and ribs, and having an excuse to go back to Willie Jewell's Old School Bar-B-Q is a good thing.

Joe Allen's Bar-B-Que is Deep in the Heart - and Stomachs - of West Texas

Perspectives of what constitutes not only good barbecue, but barbecue in general, is nearly as vast and varied as the shells on the seashore. Much like politics, religion, and sports, these BBQ views are often determined by the region, upbringing, and just plain old simple common sense.

As a South Carolinian, my barbecue world once consisted of pulled pork with either a mustard- or vinegar-based sauce. When done well, it is heavenly, to be certain. Back in 1992, though, long before Wally added the “Uncle” moniker, I found myself living in Abilene, Texas – 3 hours west of Dallas, 500 miles east of El Paso, and a world away for the Palmetto State.

West Texas: The land of scrubby mesquite trees, real cowboys, oil wells, wind (and consequently wind turbines), and football. Oh yeah, and cows. Lots of ‘em. Texas is a beef state for sure. Thus, its barbecue is of the bovine variety. When I experienced good brisket for the first time, a whole new universe of barbecue delight exploded right inside my mouth. Needless to say, my understanding of barbecue not only expanded but also changed. Now, brisket tops my list of favorite types of barbecue.

Now don’t worry, children, Uncle Wally still loves pork, chicken, turkey, sausage and other manners of meats, and I will devote plenty of time to them for your enjoyment. It’s tough being Uncle Wally, but somebody’s got to do it.

So, pig-pickers don’t fret. There’s loads of great barbecue to go around.  So let’s get back to brisket.

Abilene is in the heart of West Texas. Joe Allen’s Bar-B-Que is in the heart of Abilene. And now, Joe Allen’s chopped brisket sandwich is in the stomach of Uncle Wally. Joe Allen’s has been around since 1980 and has long been a barbecue staple in this part of the country. Joe’s son Josh is now at the helm and the family-owned barbecue joint enjoys a successful catering business that extends to their very own Lytle Bend Pavilion, a rustic venue perfect for rehearsal dinners, corporate outings, parties, and other events.

All that is fine and dandy, but what about the Q? Well, it’s hard to stay in the Texas barbecue business for over 35 years without producing some tasty fare and that is certainly the case with Joe Allen’s. If you’ll allow me to stray momentarily, the steaks at Joe Allen’s are incredible. Ordered by thickness, they are cooked over a flaming mesquite pit and melt in your mouth. But, alas, steak is not barbecue. No, it’s not.

On our last visit, we ventured in for lunch and took advantage of the day's daily lunch special  - chopped brisket sandwich, a side, and drink. The meat was chopped right in front of us and piled high on a bun. Suffice it to say that a lot of chopped sandwiches cross over the counter here, and for good reason. They are terrific. You can’t go wrong with this traditional go-to.

Having been here on numerous occasions, I can vouch for everything else, too. The sliced brisket is good. The turkey is good. The sausage is good. The ribs are good. If you venture into their sit-down-and-order-from-the-menu section, you can also enjoy steak, chicken fried steak, catfish, and more. It’s all good. And even though I rarely use the sauces they offer, they are good, too, especially the pepper sauce. A perfect blend of salt, pepper, and garlic powder make a tasty dry rub, which they use on most of their meats. You can even buy the rub for your own use at home.

While I no longer consider it the ideal wood for smoking meat, mesquite is the choice of Joe Allen’s pit masters. It is certainly plentiful in Abilene and throughout West Texas, and it does provide a nice flavor that is a little sweeter and lighter than hickory but stronger and more earthy than oak.

As far as sides go, in the barbecue line the choices are limited, but typical...and good. You’ll usually find well-cooked pintos, chunked potatoes swimming in melted butter, corn, cole slaw, potato salad, cooked cabbage, sliced jalapenos, pickles, onions, and warming drawers filled with homemade bread and jalapeno cornbread.

Uncle Wally tip: Grab a couple of slices of homemade bread and put them on your plate. Mosey a couple of steps back into the serving line, take the pinto bean spoon (because the potatoes spoon is slotted) and scoop some melted butter from the potatoes pan onto the bread. Not sure it’s allowed, in fact I’m confident it’s illegal in many states, but worth the risk.

A so-called buddy of mine made it a habit of going for lunch and just ordering a bowl of beans, all you can eat. Well, he’d get 2 slices of bread and fish the ham out of the beans and make a ham sandwich to accompany his beans. He thought it was clever. I thought it was bbq thievery, or at least tacky. Don’t be that guy.

Ultimately, Joe Allen’s is a darn-good restaurant with a neat West Texas vibe. If you travel the Lone Star State, you’ll find better barbecue if you look hard enough. Still, you won’t be disappointed here. As I’ve mentioned – it’s good, plain and simple.

Uncle Wally bonus: Joe Allen’s building is not their original locale. The new and improved structure gives them more room and was built from the dark and warn lumber from the old King Peanut Company in Abilene. My brother-in-law helped build it, and he crafted the beautiful bar in their saloon area. It’s worth a look, if not a cold Shiner to boot.

Even though they didn’t make Texas Monthly’s Top 50 (perplexing), due to the friendliness of the staff, authenticity of the restaurant, and good flavor of the meat, Joe Allen’s barbecue earns the title of “WallyQ “ – good job!

Uncle Wally's Q Review and WallyQ Explained

Flame up, compadres! You have stumbled upon Uncle Wally's barbecue restaurant review. Here you will find the honest views of Uncle Wally about barbecue restaurants and the tasty meats they serve up.

Disclaimer: I am not a pit master, chef, professional bbq judge, or restauranteur. I don't have a vendetta against Austin's Franklin's for their ridiculously long lines (totally worth it), or for Abilene's Harold's Pit Bar-B-Q for closing permanently without releasing the recipe for their iconic sauce (although there are rumors swirling that it may have surfaced...). I simply love to eat tasty barbecue, experience unique barbecue joint atmospheres, and meet interesting barbecue pit masters.

Photo courtesy of Renato Paschoa 

Need to know: In my lexicon, the word "barbecue (or barbeque - I'll use the two interchangeably) is a NOUN. Now, I realize that groups of folks in certain areas of the country consider the word a verb. Well, I've done extensive research with prehistoric scholars on the subject. No, the scholars aren't prehistoric, their field of study deals with really old stuff. Anyway, we found that once early man discovered fire, he innately started cooking meat - everything from mastodon filets to chopped sabertooth to rack of hogasaurus ribs to pterodactyl legs, thighs, and breasts. The group of humans we studied are considered the brightest and most innovative clan of their era. They exhibited a keen sense of taste as well. Artifacts unearthed showed evidence of a garlic/red pepper dry rub and subtle merlot that accompanied these cooked-meat gatherings. Experts interpreted their cave drawings and found that these paleo pit masters referred to the meat as "brughh," which loosely translates to "barbecue." This primitive artwork also recorded the process of cooking the meat, and those same experts determined that the phrase used to describe this process in those days was "cook out," which loosely translates to "cook out."

Later cave paintings revealed that a tribe of clueless neanderthals wandered down to this area, it is believed because they were tired of the snow, and saw the cook out and brughh of their more advanced counterparts and completely misinterpreted the whole occasion. Unable to comprehend the phrase "cook out," the invasive neanderthals recklessly used the word "brughh" for everything - the act of cooking meat over open flame and the meat that is cooked by this process. But, being the hospitable hosts they were, the home tribe simply smiled and said, "unk grabbit hrmph hrmph," which loosely translates to "bless your heart." They then proceeded to talk about them behind their backs.

So, being the traditionalist I am, I choose to refer to the product of cooking out as "barbecue." I also allow for phrases like, "Let's have a barbecue tonight to celebrate Dave's successful trip back from his prehistoric field studies." I'd rather for the speaker remove the "a" and simply say, "Let's have barbecue!" The reason is simply overkill. One doesn't need a reason to have barbecue.

Finally, while I may be a traditionalist, I'm not a barbecue snob. I judge the meat of its taste, period. I prefer it not be masked in layers of sauce, although I know that sauce is an important facet of the bbq genre. I want to taste the meat. The sauce can be added to suit tastes later. I could not care less about the hue of a smoke ring or how many millimeters it appears from the edge of a slice of brisket. It ain't about the presentation here - it's about the yum factor. And those that achieve a very high level of yumminess will receive the Uncle Wally's Seal of Approval by being designated as WallyQ.

I know some of you may disagree with the views expressed here. That's fine. For the rest of you barbecue aficionados and geniuses, I hope this site is both enlightening and entertaining.

Happy eating!