It was a hot summer day in San Antone, Texas, and I was on a mission to try the best BBQ in the Lone Star State. I had heard tales of a secret joint, tucked away in a corner of the food coma, where the brisket was so tender it made my taste buds do the Texas two-step.
I walked into the joint, a small shack with a sign that said "Bubba's BBQ" in letters made from what looked like rusty tin cans. Inside, the smell of smoke and spice hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew I was in the right place.
Behind the counter stood Bubba himself, a man with a beard as long as his temper was short. He looked me up and down before saying, "You're lookin' for the good stuff, huh?" I nodded, and he handed me a plate with two slices of the most tender, most flavorful brisket I'd ever had. I was in foodcoma, and I knew I'd never be the same.
But that was just the beginning of my journey through the Foodcoma. Next stop: Austin, where the food is as weird as the people.
Read on to Chapter 2: Austin, Where the Food is as Weird as the People