Top 50 BBQ Tour
Joseph’s Riverport BBQ
Robert Tyler Jones
8 January 2015
The
dance of decadence to Texas Monthly’s Top
50 BBQ joints continues with a visit to Joseph’s Riverport BBQ in
Jefferson, Texas. Coming in at number 11 on the legendary list, the
expectations were set high for luscious fare. Still, the only reason this trip
took place is because the forecast of inclement weather in the Austin area. My
parents and I had planned a three day long trip to central Texas to visit
places such as top-ranked Franklin BBQ (Austin), Louie Mueller BBQ (Taylor),
and Cooper’s (Llano). Wednesday night the 7th, after playing poker
with my friends, my dad informed me that the weather in Austin was not to be
tested and that the trip would not be occurring. No doubt sensing my immediate
disappointment, my dad suggested we go on a day trip to one of the Top 50’s
closest venues—which just so happened to be in Jefferson, Texas. Though
Franklin BBQ (the state’s and potentially the country’s best BBQ) would no
longer be involved on this leg of the tour, Joseph’s Riverport BBQ did not
disappoint. Driving north from Marshall into Jefferson in my 2014 white GMC
Sierra while my dad and I quizzed each other over US history (typical), the
first glimpse of the town was a bridge across “Big Cypress Bayou,” the first
hint of Louisiana influence on the town. The town—made up of brick buildings
and numerous antique malls—quickly greeted us with Joseph’s Riverport BBQ.
After parallel parking the Sierra—a feat that requires consecutive spaces for
execution (only possible in a small town)—we entered the BBQ domain. Upon entry
I held the door open for a woman who practically shouted “thank you” in the
friendliest voice as if I had known her for years—a small town vibe, no doubt.
The occupants of Joseph’s consisted of mostly elderly couples who stared at us
as we walked to the counter. I did not take this as rude behavior, but as an
indication that they had no idea who we were because in a town that small
(2,199 people according to a decorative sign inside) everybody knows everybody.
After finally settling on 3-meat plates for all three of us consisting of
brisket, pork ribs, and pork sausage, we took our seats at a table set for six
people with foldable metal chairs. The surrounding tables had creole sauce
placed next to the ketchup bottle—another Louisiana feature. Our meat platters
were brought out in large, cardboard containers—something that my dad commented
that he liked. My first bite of meat was taken of the pork rib, which had a
perfect casing and a thick layer of red where the smoke had really penetrated
the meat. The meat peeled off the bone with just a slight tug, a sign of a
great pork rib. The taste was both salty and sweet. Step one—I officially
approved of the pork ribs. Next I tackled the brisket (my true test of BBQ
greatness). Before I could take a bite, my dad commented, “don’t even need a
knife,” and he was correct. The brisket was not very juicy, but still excellent
nonetheless. The best taste was when I got a thick piece of bark covering a
thin layer of fat and tender beef—the pinnacle of the whole trip. Probably my
favorite meat on the sampler was the sausage. I have to admit, though, it did
not look overly appetizing. Just like store-bought sausage, it did not have any
appealing charring or even peppery insides as it came out of the kitchen
already sliced on our cardboard platters. But, when the first bite reached my
mouth, I immediately warmed up to it. I am a very picky pork sausage kind of
guy, so for me to enjoy that mediocre-looking meat so much, there must be some
kind of secret behind it. After foregoing the massive “Swamp Fries” (jalapenos,
bacon, cheese, and brisket), I enjoyed a simple side of seasoned fries and cole
slaw—which was some of the best I had ever had. In addition, my dad raved about
the BBQ beans (he even brought some home). After running into a food wall at
full speed, I had to stop. At that point my dad suggested we order ribs,
chopped beef, and brisket for the remainder of the weekend—something I am sure
to appreciate in a few days. After driving around the old town, I noticed that
the most modern thing was the BBQ place, which burned down and was rebuilt in
2012. Numerous buildings dated back to 1851 and were decorated ornately as if
they were straight out of New Orleans. The Big Cypress Bayou used to court
steamboats, which apparently brought influence from the eerie, Caddo Lake 15
miles east of Jefferson. To conclude the BBQ tour, we drove to Uncertain,
Texas, which sits on the banks of Caddo Lake. We were uncertain why it is
called Uncertain, Texas, but nonetheless it was the creepiest place I had ever
been: the banks were lined with cypress trees dangling with Spanish moss and
the water was still and murky. I just knew there were formidable things lurking
in there—which was also indicative of the alligator tour signs all over the
place. My mom even commented that she hoped some strange person would not
follow us, and I did not laugh because it definitely crossed my mind as well.
We then traveled south down Highway 43 back to Marshall where we saw their
beautiful, tan-bricked courthouse (not the active courthouse, but still erect).
While driving through Marshall I thought to myself how much more like the state
of Texas it looked, so maybe Jefferson, Texas, should really be Jefferson,
Louisiana. Next we drove west on Highway 80 to Hallsville where we gawked at
their high school and my dad noted how well the town’s taxes assist the
education system (this is also when I noted that my hands smelled like I had
been horse back riding on a leather saddle). Finally it was back to Interstate
20 and back to civilization—or at least just Tyler, Texas. But at the end of
the day, some of the state’s best BBQ was tasted in Jefferson, Louisi—I mean
Texas.
