

They make it in the classic German style. Jalapeno-cheddar sausage had me wishing we had ordered more. Sweet, spicy sauce glazes baby back ribs. But it’s so moist that our group felt it tastes best straight up. Sure, you can smother it in Opie’s housemade barbecue sauce. The overnight process results in a near-perfect smoke ring with a noticeably smoky flavor. Pitmaster Seth Glaser, son-in-law of owners Todd and Kristin Ashmore, smokes the brisket with mesquite.

(I’ve been told that the after-church crowd demanded the latter.) Everything comes on a sheet of butcher paper - a true sign of a good barbecue joint. Plus, the infamous butterbeans make an appearance Friday and Sunday. All meals come with an open buffet of trimmings: pickles, bread, onions, peppers, and BBQ sauce.

We ordered a round of the most popular items: brisket, jalapeno-cheddar sausage, sweet-and-spicy baby back ribs, and a slew of sides. The Meatsĭiners pick their fill right off the warming pit near the front door. Some days, the pitmaster’s job of predicting how much meat is the right amount to put on the smoker the night before presents more of a challenge than being a meteorologist tasked with predicting Texas’s fickle weather. We learned the hard way that they start to run out of their best cuts by early afternoon. Warning, though: When they sell out of BBQ, they close. The first thing visitors see when they walk in the door is a handwritten sign taped on the window: “ Butterbeans are DINE IN ONLY. Opie’s exemplifies the Texan attitude for which people drive miles away from the metropolis. But out here, where few property owners live on less than an acre of land, a no-frills attitude comes with the territory. Austin’s culture constantly evolves as more and more people move in from New York and San Francisco. In the small town of Spicewood (population 8000), a familiar scent permeates the air: smoky barbecue. If you are looking for Texas BBQ that is a Hill Country Best, head due west from Austin straight to Opie’s BBQ.
