BY MEG VAN HUYGEN for WEEKLY VOLCANO 6/5/26 |
Full disclosure: C. Davis Texas BBQ is based in Seattle, not Pierce County. But it’s a pop-up, not a restaurant, and he travels to the South Sound regularly. This guy is all over the map.
Floridian-born pitmaster Charles Davis keeps it simple. His only social media account for his barbecue pop-up biz is on Facebook, and he doesn’t post his food truck schedule more than a couple of days in advance. You have to just follow his page and check it on Thursday or so to know where he’s gonna be on the weekend.
This is how I ended up at the Eastside Community Center last Saturday, in a long, serpentine line, alone and unsure of my fate. I saw the announcement drift across my FB feed around 2 p.m., I texted my boyfriend to let him know where to meet me, and I was strolling up by the opening bell at 3.
This is no normal food truck, by the way. It’s a massive tank smoker on a giant neon-green trailer that bears the name of the biz and the phone number in blue and white. Takes you a sec to realize it’s Seahawks colors. This thing has gotta be 40 feet long. I followed my nose to the east side of the Eastside CC, over by the tennis courts, and beheld the spectacle as I came up the hill.
Davis doesn’t need to post his schedule in advance, apparently, because the line was already 40 people deep when the first plate was served. Tacoma pulled up for this. I arrived solo and joined the line, not totally sure what was about to happen. Folks were passing around a laminated menu comprising beef ribs, honey pecan baby back ribs, sliced tri-tip, prime rib-oxtail hot links, turkey legs, and pulled pork or shredded brisket by the pound. Sides were collards, red beans and rice, potato salad, corn bread, baked beans, and mac and cheese, the last of which could be optionally ordered imbued with brisket or pulled pork. Dessert was banana pudding. The menu included a note: “Menu items do change often.”
Although it was long, the vibe in the line was chatty and convivial, like we were all waiting to get into Barbecue Disneyland. Meanwhile, ’90s hip-hop was bumping from the truck as Davis himself worked the smokers in a lumbar support brace, like some kind of meat stevedore. This is clearly serious business.
This is also evidenced by the menu. A sign at the point-of-sale hut read, “NO HALF SLABS,” and, well, the item prices reflected this. Meat is expensive to begin with, and this is labor-intensive food besides, so I’m perfectly happy to pay for Davis’ labor as well as his employees’ and invest in their high-quality handiwork this way. A four-bone slab of beef ribs, also called “dinosaur ribs” by some because they’re huge, goes for $110. Brisket is $30 a pound. The baby backs are $35. Keep in mind that you’re ordering enough food either for a crew or, if you’re dining solo, at least a few days.
I had to change my order in my brain three times as the line inched along, because the lady running the point of sale would come out and yell-apologize that they were out of mac and cheese or collards or what have you. Good sign, though. After waiting in line for about 20 minutes, I dropped just under $100, before tip, on a pound of shredded brisket, a pair of prime rib-oxtail hot links, red beans and rice, and the very last precious order of baby back ribs. There were no tables, so we took it on home.
So, I definitely thought “praline” when I saw “honey pecan baby back ribs,” and I was imagining a sugary rub. Not so! They were covered in a thin powder coating of ground pecans that had been blurred into a butter, à la peanut butter. No pecan chunks or bits. These ribs were tender, flavorful, and uniquely, fantastically delicious. I’ve never had anything like them. I kept exclaiming with each bite, “They’re nutty! But wow! It’s so subtle!”
The ribs weren’t falling off the bone, and we did need to slice them, but you know what? That’s good. They fall off the bone when you bite them and not before. Or, as my boyfriend eloquently put it, “You want that, though. It’s the right amount of firmness. Not like pulled pork Crock-Pot slime.”
The hot links were good and spicy, although the texture was a bit pixelated for me. I was hoping for a bit more grease. Still lovely, and at $6 apiece, it was no big. The red beans and rice had little meaty bits in them and were fine.
I normally go straight for the brisket on any barbecue menu, and although I was a little bummed that it was served shredded, man, there’s nothing like those ragged, juicy bacon slices of brisket shining at you in the sun, it was sublime. Slightly seasoned, a little salty, and you could even spot the pink bits of the smoke ring in the mix. Per the menu, it’d be perfect on mac and cheese, or maybe a baked potato. I considered adding it to a DIY Seattle dog and still might.
Oh, and fascinatingly, although C. Davis does Texas-style barbecue, his standard sauce is Carolina-style! That means it’s mustard-based, and of the Carolina sauce subgenres, Davis opts for Carolina Gold, accented with honey, apple cider vinegar, and Worcestershire. I’ve never cared for tomato-based barbecue sauce, so this suits me just fine. It’s killer on those pork ribs. Beautiful color too, like a calendula flower.
This was a colossal amount of food, and my guy and I lived on it for four days, no exaggerating. From Saturday through Tuesday, we restyled a new dinner every night from this aluminum grill pan of divine smoked meat. Even after mistreating the stuff, stuck it in the fridge, gently microwaved it, subverted it with Kewpie mayo and curry ketchup and pickles, it tasted like it just came off the grill. There’s one nutty, pecanny pork rib left, and I know we’re gonna fight over it tomorrow.
As for Davis’ future pop-up locations: It’s hard to predict. He used to have a steady Seahawks-endorsed slot at Lumen Field, and he’s sometimes still found in the parking lot there on game days. He frequents both the Lowe’s and the AutoZone in Renton, and he popped up at the Glow Martini Lounge in Bonney Lake last month. The day after he appeared in Tacoma, he was at the Seattle Seawolves rugby game at Starfire Stadium in Tukwila.
Next time he comes through Tacoma, I’m rolling up as early as possible to sniff around that menu some more. Legend has it that the smoked turkey leg tastes like the best ham of your life, and I might try to walk away with a whole dang tri-tip too, because I saw somebody do that last weekend and can’t unsee it.
If you hear that Charles Davis and his smoker caravan are coming to your area, get on it. That’s my advice to you. Budget for it if you need to. Get the gang together for a meat party, or just eat it all up by yourself, slowly, throughout the rest of the week. Or quickly, like a big snake. However you wanna do it, it’s time and money well spent.
