Review: Podnah’s Pit Barbecue

Maypearl Texas

Updated 2/22. New review in progress at the new location.

When I was a kid, I spent many summers on a big cattle ranch just down the road from the booming metropolis of Maypearl Texas, population less than 300. We had a sprawling old ranch house with a huge Texas star in the kitchen floor, ceiling fans lazily buzzing overhead, a living room we never were allowed to use, and a huge screened porch that ran across one side. Water came from a windmill in the back yard; beneath it was a huge old bell that would be rung to call farm hands in for lunch. To a child from an upper class suburb of Los Angeles, the ranch was like stepping into an episode of Gunsmoke. I spent many happy summers making forts and tunnels out of hay bales, fishing for catfish in little “tanks” that dotted the property, and piling into a Jeep with my aunt every morning, herding cattle that had been trained to follow the sound of the horn.

Maypearl is where I learned about the circle of life. After I found a lost newborn calf hidden in the grass by a crick that ran across the property, I spent days sleeping in the barn, feeding it with a bottle until it was strong enough to join the herd. Grandmother named it after me, and if there was ever a spoiled cow in Texas, this was the one. It never occurred to me he might be slaughtered some day, and when it came time to drive him up the cattle chute to the truck, I was devastated. A few days later when a freezer load of thick steaks came back, my grandmother took me out on the screened porch and explained we were giving my cow the ultimate honor by enjoying his contribution to our lives – including the freshly ground burgers we were about to eat. We all held hands and she taught me my first prayer; one I remember to this day. That night as I chased fireflies around the yard, Grandmother said they were happy spirits, so I let the collection in my jar go free, in case my little cow was one of them.

Water Tower

Maypearl is where I learned to ride a horse, how to drive a tractor, run a combine, and toss bails of hay onto a truck as it slowly drove through the fields in the heat of a summer afternoon. It’s where I lost my innocence to a girl named Lizzy, only to find out months later, that the place in the Maypearl cemetery where we consummated our love, was in fact, her parents headstones. It’s where I spent hours shucking corn to put it up for the winter, picked impossibly red tomatoes with old Mr. Jackson across the way, and watched my grandmother make perfect chocolate pies with a meringue that always cried a little – she said they were angel’s tears.

One summer, my cousin and I spent weeks rewiring an old jeep. As we pulled it out of the barn where it had been stored with old tractors, the long CB antenna hit a hornet’s nest in the rafters, and dropped it into the back and rolled under my seat. I drove down the dusty dirt road, faster and faster, not sure how those stinging devils were managing to keep up with us, until I missed a turn. With a great splash, our summer project ended up slowly sinking in one of the tanks. We sat there stunned, until two water moccasin snakes started swimming in our direction to investigate. That’s the only time I ever managed to run across water. A relative who had seen all the commotion, came down and managed to pull the Jeep out. To calm us down, he invited us to a huge dinner with all the fixin’s. As I sat under a great old tree, legs dusted in sulfur to keep the chiggers away, I began my education in Texas barbecue.

Why do I bring all of this up? I forget exactly how it happened, but in the course of emails back and forth between me and Rodney of Podnah’s BBQ in NE Portland, I mentioned that his food reminded me of Texas. Through a series of more and more incredulous exchanges, we realized we had lived just a half a mile or so from each other. Granted, I’d probably left before he was old enough to walk, but as we shared the names of neighbors, the sheer coincidence of the whole thing brought back a wave of memories. It also made me understand his roots, and gave me an insight into just what he’s trying to do in his restaurant with the old-fashioned Formica table tops at NE 17th and Killingsworth.

Even in its new expanded location Podnah’s is far from a fancy restaurant. Though the outside has been so slicked up I thought it was a new building, but in contrast to the exterior the inside shows it still has an old heart. It’s 3-4 times the size his original restaurant, but still has the barbecue house feel.  There is a large bar area where one can comfortably eat alone, and a serviceable area to wait on busy nights. A combination of wood and cracked concrete floors and a mix of schoolhouse and faux industrial lights compound the feel. During the daytime, natural light pours through big skylights and a wall of windows along the street. The combination of wood floors, wood countertops and the bricked-lined bar gives a natural warmth. Those of you who grew up in the 50′s will recognize the Formica topped tables, but his original chairs have thankfully been replaced. Unfortunately the bench seating along some of the walls is (currently) lacking any sort of back support and gets uncomfortable by the end of dinner. Regulars will be glad to know there is actually room to wait for a table without being trampled by busy servers.

Though Podnah’s now has a full bar and a selection of wines, I’m a purist, and look towards the eight tap beers or the good choice of others available by the bottle. The servers all have a good knowledge all of them, and are quick to offer guidance.

Ribs

The iceberg wedge is a great way to start your meal. Easily enough for two people to share, you get a crisp cold wedge of lettuce with ribbons of dressing, full of little islands of good pungent cheese. Rather than being overworked as are many dressings, the cheese still holds much of its shape. A light black pepper note adds a last layer of taste, a scattering of equally good croutons sprinkled around the plate adds pleasant crunch ($4.50).

To some people, the sides that are served with barbecue are almost as important as the meat. They too are heavily regionalized: just look at the differences between cornbread recipes from different areas of the country. The plates give you a choice of two sides (otherwise they are $2.25), and the selection makes me feel like I’m back on the ranch at a potluck. The potato salad and coleslaw are pretty much what you’d expect from the region, and the ramekin of pinto beans, while cooked properly, is nothing to get excited about. However, the black-eyed pea salad is stunning, the legumes soft yet firmly holding their texture in a bath of bits of onion and really nice, mellow vinegar sauce. Pair the salad with the juicy, perfectly cooked collard greens layered with little shreds of pork, and the combination will call out to any southerner. The cornbread varies a bit from night to-night, but tends to be slightly sweet with just the right level of moisture and good corn flavor. For me, this is as good as it gets. Give me a few pats of butter, put on some Doc Watson, and I’ll be a happy man. Honey is for amateurs.

The brisket and ribs and lamb are definitely central Texas barbecue, but the pulled pork is not.  The ribs are dry rubbed instead of being slathered with sauce as some people might expect. There is a good balance of mellow bark, meat and fat on the bones. In case you aren’t familiar with the term, “bark” is the nice crust that forms when meat is smoked for a long period. A slightly spicy vinegar sauce and a more traditional sweeter BBQ sauce is served on the side from squeeze bottles on each table. I asked Rodney about the yellow mustard vinegar sauce that is also available. He they are both Brian’s recipes from the original LOW restaurant which inspired Podnah’s.

Of course the main event is the meat. Hopefully, the larger smoker means that the days of getting there early before they run out of items are over. The pulled pork is really good; usually moist and full of flavor, though it can occasionally be slightly dry. It’s tossed with the vinegar sauce, and when they first opened, the pork tended to be really spicy. I loved the heat, but it was a bit too much for my dining companions. A few weeks later it was toned down, and has remained so ever since.

Brisket with a nice bark

Brisket is part of every Texas barbecue, and the Podnah’s version doesn’t disappoint. The beef is cooked to the point where the edges have a light crispy, smoky bark. There is just the right amount of fat, so that it melts into the meat without being obvious. Overall, this is the best brisket I’ve had outside of Texas.

The ribs come to the table juicy and hot, again with an excellent bark. Rodney knows how to bring out a good balance of smoke flavor without going too far. As with the brisket, there is enough fat to give them moisture, but you won’t worry whether your cardiologist is working late that night. These are dry-rubbed, so if you are expecting something drenched in sauce, you are going to be disappointed. Personally, I like to be able to taste the more subtle sweet/salty flavors in the meat, and add sauce from the side as needed. If you want to be true to tradition and add some slices of white bread, just ask.

Cattail Creek lamb ribs are simply dry rubbed with a bit of salt and pepper so they speak for themselves. They are rich and meaty – you can still taste the meadow.

Prime Rib

Specials come and go, usually on Friday or Saturday nights. Every so often he cooks up wonderful prime rib, smoking it slowly for hours.  I’d never had it smoked before, and was interested to see what it was like. The texture is slightly different. It looks almost dry, but I think the smoking and cooking process just renders the fat, making it absorb a bit. The flavor just blew me away; I’ve had the same cut in many restaurants for twice the cost, that wasn’t nearly as good. In many restaurants, when you order prime rib, by the time you get through the fat, there’s not much meat. When I’ve had it at Podnah’s, the balance was perfect. If I had to find a complaint, it would be with the horseradish on the side. It didn’t do a lot for me, and I think he could find a better version, even pre-prepared. However, this is a minor quibble, and wouldn’t stop me from ordering it again. Other nights he has served a steak special instead of the prime rib – another fantastic choice!

Podnah's Plate

On my last few visits, there has only been one dessert available, but that’s just fine with me, as nothing goes better after good barbecue than pecan pie. It is quite possibly the best I’ve ever had, a flaky crust and simple buttery pecan goodness, warmed to just the right temperature, with a pillows of cold “whoop” putting it all to bed.

BBQ is highly regional dish, and folks need to realize that Rodney’s version of sauce, or dry rub, of coleslaw or any of the other dishes, may not be what they grew up with, but that doesn’t mean it’s not good. Some folks have come back from dinner and told me they didn’t like the food at all, that it isn’t like anything they had “back home”. To this there isn’t much I can say – it’s like any other cuisine, tainted by the heart. Maybe it’s because I sit there thinking about my early days in Texas, Bessie Smith singing Careless Love in my mind, but to me, this is the best barbecue on the west coast. It’s good to me, and that’s all that matters.

Grade: A-

  • Phone: (503) 281-3700
  • Address: 1625f NE Killingsworth, Portland, OR. 97211
  • Hours: Mon-Fri: Lunch 11a.m. – 5pm, Dinner 5pm-9:00pm. Sat/Sun: Breakfast 9am-1pm, Lunch Noon-5pm, Dinner 5pm-9:00pm

Food Dude

"I have a wide-range of food experience - working in the restaurant industry on both sides of the house, later in the wine industry, and finally traveling/tasting my way around the world. Whether you agree or disagree, you can always count on my unbiased opinion. I don't take free meals, and the restaurants don't know when, or if, I am coming."