The Taste Bud: Is Buc-ee’s Brisket Sandwich Really That Good?
My fiancee raved about the Buc-ee’s Travel Stop brisket sandwich. Friends raved about it. So, while driving home following a getaway to Ashveille, N.C., my fiancee and I stopped at a Buc-ee’s for some lunch. (We had originally stopped on the way into North Carolina at one near Gatlinburg, Tenn., but had no luck. More on that later.)
Dudes in aprons and big cowboy hats feverishly worked behind sneeze guards to assemble sandwich after sandwich, from brisket to pork. The brisket sandwiches, both chopped and sliced, were flying out of the warmers to the point they could barely keep up, with drooling customers standing around waiting for the next batch (yes, including us). Cynthia was after a chopped brisket version, but they all had been nabbed. Therefore, we “settled’ for a sliced brisket sandwich instead, literally grabbing the last two of a batch that had been put out maybe 90 seconds earlier. A reasonable $8.49 each later, we were set for lunch.
I’ll cut right to the chase: We got to the car and immediately opened our sandwiches. I opened mine, and it didn’t look like anything notable. Just a basic sandwich bun with a reasonable amount of sauced meat, nothing more. And then I took a bite, and … damn. Juicy, tender, flavorful. Hearty. Well, pretty freaking delicious.
Specifically, the meat was perfectly smoked, with delicious burned tips. Meanwhile, the sauce was tangy, with a light sweetness and a pleasant heat that sneaked in about halfway through my sandwich. One aspect I did note was that my sandwich was made up primarily of edge pieces, meaning plenty of char and also a large amount of fat.
Fortunately, I like the fatty pieces, but someone who does not — like Cynthia — would possibly have been disappointed if they’d grabbed one like mine. Heck, during lunch, Cynthia even plucked a piece from her sandwich she deemed too fatty and handed it to me. And it wasn’t nearly as fatty as most of the pieces I had chewed through.
Again, I’m not complaining. Ladies and gentlemen, bring me ALL the beef fat. My only issue with Buc-ee’s is the intensity of the crowds. I’ve now been to two different locations, and the one we visited in Kentucky on the way home from Asheville was even more crowded than the one we hit last year in Tennessee. You couldn’t even stand still without someone bumping into you. It’s madness, I tell you. Cynthia and I agreed that most people in a Buc-ee’s must get overwhelmed by the crowds and zone out, causing them to wander wantonly, zombie-like, through the place, bumping into everything they encounter.
Now back to that Gatlinburg-area location. Seeking brisket during our Sunday afternoon road trip, we got off the highway and found ourselves in a long line at a left-turn stoplight. We sat through three light revolutions, no doubt among many others on a Buc-ee’s pilgrimage. When we ascended a hill toward the travel stop, we soon realized we had made a huge mistake.
We went through a roundabout — yes, a roundabout — on this Buc-ee’s compound and were met with lines of crawling cars going in and out, as well as a veritable sea of parked vehicles. We immediately decided to abort the mission, but it took us forever to turn around, get into the long line of creeping traffic and escape. It added probably 40 minutes to our trip. So, pro tip: No matter how hungry you are, do NOT go to the Gatlinburg Buc-ee’s on a Sunday afternoon. You know, unless you’re insane.
