There’s nothin’ fast about our food, in fact, it’s downright slow. Mom taught us way back when, with the aid of her most menacing wooden spoon—that if you’re going to do something, you do it right or you don’t do it at all. Dad was a meat cutter and taught us only to use the best of the best and that when you take shortcuts, you get lost. So we don’t do fast food, we do good food. And by good food, we mean the finest barbeque to ever hit you in the lips. It’s why we’re up before the early bird putting an edge on our ax and splitting perfectly seasoned blocks of hardwood. It’s why the middle-of-the-road is a place we’ve never been. Where we’re from, we don’t need secret ingredients—just some smoke, fire and a little patience. We know that fine line between “almost” and “just right,” and we know it well. This is dedicated to those dedicated few—to those that do it the right way. To the keepers of the flame.