An Englishman Visits Fat Cow and Writes About Sex. Someone's Sleeping on the Couch Tonight.

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This week, out resident smoke-addicted Englishman Gavin visits Fat Cow BBQ and ends up writing about sex, which we notice is cropping up more and more in his posts. Frankly, we're getting a little concerned about what all this barbecue-love is doing to him psychologically. Luckily, if he ever returns home to the U.K., they have national health care to fix him right up.

Much like illicit sex, it's best when a barbecue joint is filthy, mainly in the dark, and not awkward to get to. Fat Cow BBQ (850 Valley Ridge Blvd. #128, Lewisville) is none of these things. It is clean, brightly lit and bafflingly requires driving through a gas station parking lot to get to. If it was a sexual encounter, it would be well thought-out and meticulously hygienic. While sex like this has its appeal, which would you choose? EXACTLY.

See also: - An Englishman in BBQ Sauce

Fat Cow BBQ doesn't even really have exterior walls. It's all glass panels. Inside there are fast-food style circular tables, which are crucially not wooden, and the friendly and not-at-all surly staff will happily take your order and then offer you table service. It's all wrong. It's like a family-style fast-food restaurant that serves smoky barbecue. Even Dickey's tried some authentic Texas-looking stuff.

I should have an open mind though. Sometimes the encounters that appear the least promising on the outside can be the most rewarding when you get down to the warm, gooey, meat (someone needs to stop me by this point). And certainly, Fat Cow offers a brisket-based option I have never seen before, and I am always open to those things. In this case, it is a jalapeño stuffed with brisket and cream cheese, wrapped in bacon. That pretty much sounds good enough to sell family members into the slave trade for. And only $2? All right, Fat Cow, all right. I'm going to overlook your startling commitment to cleanliness and just examine your food.

Well, Fat Cow, your ribs are a disaster. You've not even smoked them, have you? That would be too unclean. Things might start to smell of smoke, and then you wouldn't have the ambiance of a certain popular hamburger fast food chain anymore. What you've done there is boil them, cover them in sauce and hope no one notices. Even I can see that, and frankly I am shit at my job. You've even bought the sausage in, haven't you? HAVEN'T YOU? Talk to me Fat Cow. Tell me where this concept came from. Have you seen a Texas barbecue restaurant before? Are you shooting for some sort of satirical post-modern barbecue restaurant? It's a brave move, I'll grant you.

Thank God your brisket has saved the day. It's actually pretty good. I mean, I asked for sliced and it was brought to me chopped, but you know, that's part of your commitment to subversion. It's very clever, this punk, counter-culture ideal you're shooting for here. Just when I was then expecting chopped, I found a twig-sized lump in the middle, tenuously clinging together. Every expectation I had has been shattered. I don't even know where I live any more. Also, I could eat the complex jalapeño-based brisket concoction forever. It's absolutely insanely delicious. And so the most delicious thing at Fat Cow contains something that is technically a vegetable. What in the name of all that is holy happened at this place?

Do you simultaneously dislike and enjoy Texas BBQ? Do you need a fresh take on an old classic, but in a way that just willfully subverts everything, for better or worse? Are you the sort of person who needs to disinfect a potential sexual conquest before doing the deed in a neon-lit hospital room? THEN I HAVE FOUND YOUR IDEAL RESTAURANT. Come to Fat Cow BBQ, where everything is wrong.

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