Driving south down I-35 into Austin there are all manner of diners, restaurants and eateries. Most are of the suburban type, available in any zip code, close to the Best Buy and/or the IKEA, and they tend to provide the unexceptional, regular “Americana” food which has been highly successful and always forgettable.

The aforementioned big box stores and themed restaurants are usually ringed by high-density, planned communities which sprawl into single family residences, then McMansions, and finally hobby farms with painted fences around their 10.2 acres and two horses. Word to the wise: If you manage drive past through all of this and finally pass a John Deere tractor dealership, you’ll know you’re getting close to where the real food is.

It was on one of these roads, State Highway 29 heading out of Georgetown, where I spotted a Texaco Station with a Smokey Mo’s Barbeque tacked on the side.

A smallish chain of 8 stores scattered around the Austin area, Smokey Mo’s was just the kind of place I was looking for. My search for real ‘que was almost halted before it began – my first stop was at a familiar sounding BBQ joint I’ve known about for years. But after being met by not one, but two, managers on duty, the kind that wear clean fresh polo shirts with corporate logos, I got a sinking feeling that the corporate weenie had taken over barbeque, which I am almost positive is one of the signs of the apocalypse.

Looking around I noticed the faux rustic environment of reproduction road signs, tin roofing and ”vintage” signs sporting politically corrected slogans like, “Real People Eat Meat” , I began backing out of the franchised BBQ joint and decided to go and find real food served by real people.

Asking a couple of guys with pickups in the parking lot of a gas station, I was told about Smokey Mo’s and headed that way. The location, their third, shares a footprint with a convenience store and a gas station near the corner of 183 and State Highway 29. It is about as blue collar as you can get without hosting a union meeting.

Once inside the walls act as the menu and the aroma of smoked meat grabs you right away and the vinyl checked tablecloths and red cafeteria trays perfectly convey low maintenance. From behind the counter Petra Boettcher, her apron stained with the days hand wiping, was skillfully carving up a slab of slow roasted brisket for a line of customers eagerly placing their orders.

With a husky laugh she lead her crew of six in packing up to-go orders with a dollop of potato salad and a pickle, quickly taking the line, backing up to the door, down to one lone diner.

“It all starts with the dry rub,” she explains as she shows me the industrial smoker in the back. The smoker is fired by both gas and electric and fed constantly with two foot long logs of Live Oak and hundreds of pounds of brisket, turkey breast and sausage. Running all night, the smoker infuses wood smoke at low temperature into the rotating meat causing the collagen of the beef to melt, allowing the flavors of the rub to seep deep into the fiber.

The end result is brisket that can be pulled apart with a plastic fork and tastes simply amazing. Mo’s sells the dry rub and their custom bottled barbeque sauce via their web site. Made from the owner’s son’s recipe and the same as they use in the store, there are two varieties of the sauce, one normal the other hot, both containing a sweet, spicy base with a citrus bite that has become Mo’s signature. They bottle the red liquid in Abilene, using Mo’s own specifications.

“Mo used to be the Pit Boss at another place,” explains a regular customer who was wiping a dab of sauce from his mustache at the next table, “I knew him then and there was some sort of disagreement. Mo left and started his own place.” The customer was tall, thin and had an amazing mane of gray-blonde hair and looked every inch a version of Sam Elliot. The movie star lookalike told me how he eats at Mo’s at least twice a week, “For consistency and just good value you can’t beat this place.”

Turns out Mo worked for the old barbeque joint I’d been in earlier in the day. The place had gone into corporate overkill and now Mo’s specializes in making customers feel well fed without falling into the franchising pitfalls of Human Resources Departments and mass-produced themed food experiences. Opening his first Smokey Mo’s in Cedar Hill, each additional location is owned by a friend or relative. Luckily, Mo’s is growing slowly, without the anonymity of corporate branding and marketing departments, and is a destination to savor when you want to get away from the theme and into the food.

Real food, that is, served by someone wearing a little bit of it themselves.

Smokey Mo’s Barbeque
717 Highway 183N
Liberty Hill, TX 78642
512-515-0668