ROBERT CONEY
Google
**Food Critic Review: A Cautionary Tale from a Southern BBQ Enthusiast**
**Restaurant Name Withheld Out of Courtesy**
Where do I even begin?
As someone who has made a life and career out of exploring Southern barbecue and soul food joints—especially those that are Black-owned—I always try to walk in with an open heart and an empty stomach. This time, I wish I had walked away.
I originally chose this spot after reading that it was a Black-owned BBQ joint. That alone was a huge plus. I’m all for supporting businesses that pour culture, community, and legacy into their food. So I took the 15-minute drive, menu in hand, ready to sample what I hoped would be the next hidden gem in town.
Unfortunately, things began unraveling before we even got to the front door.
As we sat in the parking lot finishing up our order decisions, the view outside the restaurant was... concerning. A group of people loitered near the entrance—not patrons, not staff, but individuals who looked more like they were selling something other than food. The vibe was far from welcoming. It’s one thing to offer street culture; it’s another to make your guests feel unsafe before they’ve even set foot inside.
When we finally went in, I could see that someone had tried to give the space some charm. There was a makeshift canopy at the entrance, an attempt at ambiance. But whatever vision was once there clearly hadn’t been maintained. The area screamed potential—but was screaming louder for help. A live DJ, table seating, and just a touch of order would’ve transformed the entrance alone. But I digress.
We waited about 15 minutes in line before placing our order. I got the small rib dinner with rice, collard greens, and candied yams. My wife, however, wasn’t so lucky. Everything she ordered—smothered turkey, smothered chicken, steak, even a kids' meal—was “no longer on the menu.” Odd, considering every one of those items was still boldly displayed on both the online menu and the video boards overhead.
And here’s where things went from frustrating to unacceptable: the attitude of the young woman taking our order. Let me be frank—customer service can make or break a dining experience. This young lady acted like we were interrupting her day. The energy was defensive, dismissive, and flat-out unprofessional. She didn’t apologize for the unavailable items. She didn’t offer alternatives. She didn’t even try. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was family or a close friend of the owner, because no regular employee would still have a job after that display.
When the food finally arrived, things didn’t get much better. My ribs were decent in flavor, but small and underwhelming in portion. Barely any meat clung to those bones. The rice, surprisingly, was the star of the plate—hot, seasoned, and soulful. The greens and yams? Just okay.
Then came my wife’s food. She ended up with six fried wings coated in a blizzard of lemon pepper seasoning. She didn’t ask for lemon pepper. She didn’t even want chicken. And the wings were so heavily seasoned, eating them became a health risk. You know it’s bad when you start debating whether to finish a meal or call your cardiologist.
Was it a mistake? Maybe. Was it malicious? Doubtful. But when paired with the attitude we received at the counter, it felt intentional—and that’s a problem.
In the end, this place served us a cautionary lesson more than a soul food experience. I take no joy in writing this, but for the sake of those who genuinely love great Southern cuisine and value respectful service, I have to be honest:
**I would not eat here again, and I would not recommend this place to anyone.**
Brother, if you’re reading this—and I hope you are—do better. Your community wants to support you. But you have to give them something worth supporting: a clean, welcoming environment, a team that treats customers with kindness, and a menu that lives up to its promise. Anything less is just a waste of potential.
**1 out of 5 stars.**