There’s no denying Black Sabbath BBQ has character. Steve the pit boss is loud, proud, Texan, and a touch insane. The man used to engineer smokers and now proudly shows off his parking lot beast—an unholy contraption he calls Cthulhu. I think it pulls double duty smoking brisket and summoning demons. Apparently, they bring in wood from Texas just to feed it.
I asked at the counter what’s popular on the menu, and the answer was: “Everything! Depends on what you like“. Look, I can’t stand that. Please—just pick something and tell me it’s the best. Don’t make me do the work. Anyway, we grabbed the brisket (I asked for the fatty stuff), burnt ends, pulled pork, baked beans, and coleslaw. They also handed out jalapeño bacon-wrapped grease bombs for free.
Now, confession time: the menu is kind of a pain. Us lazy eaters prefer pre-made plates. Don’t make me play BBQ Tetris, weighing sides and adding meat by the ounce. Give me “The Hungry Cowboy Special” or “Plate #3” and let’s move on. Biggest gripe? It was a Pepsi soda fountain. Isn’t this a Texas place? And the Diet Dr Pepper was flat. I thought the state took Coke and Dr Pepper about as seriously as it takes high school football.
As for the food: this is Texas-style BBQ, which is just a fancy way of saying, “Sauce is on the side, buddy.” The brisket and beans were fantastic. The pulled pork, burnt ends, and coleslaw were just ok. Not quite Cthulhu’s specialty.
Dessert was peach cobbler, which felt like a slight upgrade from dump cobbler (you know, the one where you toss cake mix, canned peaches, 7-Up, and butter in a Dutch oven and then spend 40 minutes questioning your life choices while smelling it cook). Not to say I’m not a sucker for that flavor of mess.
Overall? Loved the vibe, loved the style, loved the personality. A few standout hits, a few meh tracks like a Black Sabbath album.
