It was Sunday, we were lazy, and we were late. Strolling up at a leisurely 10:30am, we hit the back of the line at Franklin’s BBQ like a swan dive into an empty pool. We take full responsibility for our lack of foresight, of course. We already knew how amazing the brisket, the pulled pork, the espresso sauce, and even the root beer (all my personal favorites) are at Franklin’s. And so does the rest of the world now with sparkling reports in both bon appétit and the Texas Tribune section of the New York Times, just in the last week alone.
I am proud to say that Aaron and Stacy Franklin, the masterminds behind this local, and now national, phenomenon, are our friends and neighbors. Over the last two years we have watched it grow from a fix-it-up used trailer and a dream in the backyard to the gastronomical destination it is now. Really, pretty damn inspiring.
Stacy told me the only money they’ve spent on advertising was 20 bucks for a spot they were solicited for in a middle school publication. Seriously.
It didn’t take long on Sunday to learn that the guy in the blue shirt, about twenty BBQ heads ahead, was last man standing. It was just a prediction, but one we were happy to know so we could refocus our energies on next weekend’s line. And, our quest was not a total loss. Aaron came home bearing gifts of mini key lime pies. These are some mighty fine neighbors indeed!
See you on Sunday, again, Franklins!
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