An Englishman Says Dat Really is Some Good BBQ Up in Lewisville, By Jove.

This week, recently re-documented alien Gavin rolls with the chaps in Lewisville, where he recovers from his Dickey’s experience with some deliciousness at Dat’s Good BBQ.

For those of you who haven’t ventured up into the frozen northern reaches of the metro area (it’s like how I imagine life is north of The Wall in Game of Thrones, only with fewer zombies), the residents, in between snow flurries and attacks by hulking wild animals, inform me that there is the odd decent barbecue place to check out.

See also: – Dickey’s Would Be OK for Fast-Food BBQ If It Were 75 Percent Cheaper

In anticipation of having to brave this hazardous wasteland and of forging a brave path through the inhospitable conditions, I donned a shirt with long sleeves, an actual pair of trousers (a considerably better word than pants) and some shoes that, for once, didn’t show off my attractive yet manly toes.

I then considered how difficult it was for me to say the name of this particular barbecue restaurant with a straight face. A Brit saying anything remotely “street” is like Prince William covering Jay-Z while wearing a top hat. Not only does it not work, it is laughable on the scale of Piers Morgan’s presenting career. I settled on “That Certainly is Good Barbecue, Sir” and proceeded to order up a two-meat plate of brisket and sausage, with a couple of sides that yet again I have forgotten about because of the presence of meat ($11.99).

And it was really very good. Potentially, any properly smoked brisket after Dickey’s cannot fail to make me delighted, but it was smoky, tender, juicy and meeeeeeeaty. With seven E’s. While Dickey’s brisket was thin and sad and reminded me of slightly warmed sandwich meat, this was a series of chunky, delightful slabs that came pre-slathered in beautiful sauce. What’s more, the sausage was some of the best. It was a sliced-up tube of meaty smoke (not smoky meat. It was more smoke than meat, that’s how smoky it was), good with sauce or without.

I even stole (exchanged, really, I’m just working on appearing to be more of a badass so I can say the word “dat” without Americans laughing) a rib off a colleague so I could give you, the hungry northern adventurer, the full picture. It was the best of the lot! It had a really good rub, was still pink inside and made me happy in my heart. I am still so very pleased with barbecue. I can never go back to centimeter thick hamburgers over a thin layer of charcoal now. I’m going to purchase a food truck upon my return to Britain and conquer the budding British food truck market by being the only person who even has the foggiest idea what brisket is. It’ll be like the blind leading the blind, only more profitable for the first blind person. I am accepting investments.

Unfortunately for you guys, I just got my work permit renewed, and I am here for the foreseeable future. The dawn of the British Meat Age will have to wait another few years.