Normally I'm not one who does a little happy dance when BBQ is mentioned. In fact, when we were little Amy could smash BBQ chips in her melted cheese sandwich and I always thought it was the most disgusting thing on Earth; however, I admit, vinegar and salt was just fine. Perhaps I never gave BBQ a chance because of these childhood ghosts. Before boarding the plane to Texas I told Jake that I was ready to embrace the meat and heat that has made Texas so famous. If I did nothing else, I just wanted to visit a real Texan BBQ pit, and that we did!
The first photo shows James getting ready for the event. In the second Ashton is checking out the chalk board menu indicating pulled pork which was the pick of the night. 
While this photo is cockeyed, it is significant. Notice the little warning sign below the painted window advertising "we cater for 10-10,000 folks." Trouble awaits when you walk up to a pit and point to the third rib in and say "Yes, give me that one. And how about half that chicken, some of that brisket, and maybe three of those poppers. Oh, and butter dipped corn (daintily drizzled across the woodfired pit roasting a fine melee of meats) just to represent a vegetable on my plate, oh, I mean TRAY." Holy Texas. So the sign "Be careful not to over order (no comma. no breath here. that's significant.) your eyes may be too big." Yep. Good thing we ordered up one tray with a little taste of everything to share. I didn't know how Izzi would react. I found the table where Mum, Amy and Mila were patiently waiting while Jake got some "free" jalapano beans and an array of sauces. As soon as Poppie slapped the wax paper feast down on the table Ashton's eyes got big. She loved it all: pulled pork, bacon wrapped chicken, brisket, and even hot sausage. I was amazed. We didn't even need the backup corn. 
Lauren dressed for the occasion--notice her side-leather-laced-longhorn tee shirt that shows just enough belly to be everyone's barometer. Waiting in line, it must have been onethousand degrees outside, snaking our way up to the pit. Izzi went through several phases on Poppie's shoulders, but soon found it was worth the wait.
The pit. (Photo courtesy of Audrey Anne)
And the happy crew.
Welcome to Texas, or G-mum says: "The Texas twenty starts here."
I thought okay. That was a good experience, but how much BBQ do I really need? Isn't one pit authentic enough. Can't I just do the one-time through tourist experience?
We had John and G-mum's homecooked BBQ ribs, chicken, sausage and beans the first night (which was delicious--and pool side to boot). Then we had the "Big eyes" sweaty server drippin' on my dinner deal, so I thought, I'm good right? When Mum's friend Rhonda got to pick the resturant our first night in Austin we all groaned a bit when we found out it was more BBQ. She claimed the Countyline was the real deal, and we'd love it. So, we put on our best smile and embraced the moment. Soon enough we all had something to rave about. The Countyline was right on a lake with hundreds of turles bobbing about. That was a real bonus for Ms. Isadora. She loved counting them...1-2-3 and so on sequentially until you get to 14. Then it turns to 14-18-17-16 every time. Even John came to expect and chuckle at her counting conundrum. Everything on the menu (as true to the TExas experience) was pitched in threes. This time Ashton and I shared the chicken sausage, roasted chicken and brisket served with Mama's homemade wheat bread, slaw and beans. I was a little turned off on the rib scene when I saw a local yokel devour, and I mean slup down to the bone, half a cow. The serving was so big it bowed off the plate by a foot on either side. I've lived 33 years without sucking the meat of a rib bone, and I have to admit, while in Texas I tried nibbling one, but ordering a rack of ribs was a bit too much.
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