The Chois Eat Their Way Through Jeonju (Part 1)

My mum hates my food blog. Well, she hates that I write a food blog because she blames it for making me fat. I’m pretty sure she’s never read it because scrolling down through photo after photo after photo of all the fatty foombah carb-a-liciousness would just make her sick at all the food her daughter is ingesting and converting into fat cells. I would get an angry phone call after every post I publish.

We’ve had a lot of conversations that go along these lines:

“Heather, I’m worried because your cousin told me that all the photos on your Instagram are of really high-calorie and high-fat foods.”

“Mum, it’s because those kinds of photos get the most likes.”

“But why can’t you just eat more salads?”


But since we live in a different countries and only communicate via messaging and phone, the frequency of her nagging had really died down, leading me to think, oh-so-naively, that maybe she had accepted that I had grown up into my own person and could make my own adult decisions about my body and the food I put in it.

When my parents told me they were visiting in the Spring, I thought it would be nice if we went on a short trip together. Conveniently, I planned a trip down to Jeonju which also happens to be one of the top foodie hot spot in Korea. I’d been wanting to go since I first heard about it. This trip seemed like an amazing idea: I could spend some quality time with my parents, pig out on amazing food, and get some great material for the blog. Little did I know that I was actually signing up for three-day fat camp.

As soon as my mum saw me, she unleashed a tirade of fat-shaming that did not end until I waved goodbye to her as she rode away on the Airport Limousine to catch her flight back to Sydney. Padded with affectionate squeezes of my butt and belly, and assurances of “I’m only saying this because I love you!” her incredible ability to never run out of things to say about my weight gain gave my self-esteem a good ol’ fashioned beat down.

“What happened to you? What did you eat to gain so much weight? Heather . . . are you depressed? If you’re not depressed then why are you eating so much?! Stop ordering delivery! Why are you so lazy? Just make yourself something healthy for dinner! I thought you would actually lose weight because of how skinny girls are here in Korea… don’t you feel bad when you see how thing and pretty all these girls are? How much do you exercise? I thought so. You need to exercise!! Just go for a walk after dinner. Matt’s lost so much weight, so why can’t you? You disgust me.

(Okay, she didn’t say the last thing, but it was strongly implied.)

Suddenly, a trip where eating would be the main activity didn’t seem like such a good idea. But with accommodation and bus tickets booked, and my will not yet broken by my mum’s incessant harassment, I just went ahead with it. What followed was one of the greatest tests of my emotional and mental fortitude of my life thus far.


Me and my mum.

Jokes, that bear is way skinnier than me.

So mistake #1 was planning a foodie road trip with my fatphobic mum. Mistake #2 was planning a trip to Jeonju on a long weekend.


This is meant to be a quaint “hanok” village made up of traditional Korean houses and cute little shops but because of it’s increasing popularity as a local tourist destination, on weekends and public holidays it is literally swarming with people. Hungry people. Standing in lines. Lots and lots of really really really long lines.

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Mandoo lines. Kalguksu lines. Bibimbap lines. Sandwich lines. Gukbap lines.

I’m not one to be afraid of a long line if I know that the food pay-off at the end will be worth it, but I did not want to spend the entire weekend waiting in line with my 60-ish parents who would probably spend the whole time lecturing me about how only fat people wait in line for food. Fortunately, thanks to the fierce competition here and Korean people’s willingness to shamelessly rip of a popular shop’s food and concept, there are plenty of copycat shops that offer pretty much the same food as the more famous places, but without the long wait.

Our first stop was flame-grilled octopus on a stick (문어꼬치)

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Big fat chunks of octopus, skewered and grilled, then served with worcestershire-ish sauce and bonito flakes.


Kind of like a naked takoyaki. I’ve never really been a fan of octopus, so this is not something I would usually be attracted to, but Koreans LOVE it. It’s delicious – chewy on the inside and charred on the outside.

We shared one of these between the three of us because, you know … calories.


Then we went right next door for some jumbo cheese chicken skewers (치즈 점보 닭꼬지).


About double the size of a regular chicken gochi, this sexy beast is covered in sauce (you choose how spicy you want it) and a helluva lot of melted cheese.


Here is mum taking a huge bite out of this high-fat high-calorie treat.

“Give it to me, you shouldn’t eat too much of things like this.”

“Yes, mum.” *cries on the inside*

Although the hanok village mainly consists of little permanent shopfronts, everything here is very street-food. Most things are served on long wooden skewers (gochi) – they have their own special rubbish bin.


Because we wouldn’t want these things poking holes in the rubbish bags… or in people. Given the volume of people squished into this place when its busy, there’s gotta be a few gochi related injuries per day here.

There’s a shop here that’s really famous for its hand made mandoo (dumplings) but it had the longest line of ALL the restaurants. Actually it had two lines, and both looked at least 40 minutes long. I love my mandoo, but even I have my limits.


So we went to the place next door that we hoped did a pretty good imitation of the original.


Whole-prawn steamed dumplings. There was five between the three of us, but I only ate one. I didn’t want to get my hand slapped in front of all these people.

These tasted just okay – made me feel a bit sad about missing out on the real thing. But I plan to come back for them someday soon – when it’s less crazy busy and without my fat camp coaches.


Mum got these water cakes (물방울떡) for dessert – there’s a bit of a craze happening around these lately, but I’m not a fan. They taste like nothing. They’re just big blobs of colorless, flavorless jelly.

And that was our lunch. I didn’t get to try as much as I wanted, half because of the lines, half because my mum’s hawk-eyes were watching me, with her claws ready to pounce if I dared get near “over-eating” territory.

We took a short nap in our tiny hanok stay and then headed out to dinner. Before the hanok village food street took over, Jeonju was mainly known for its bibimbap. We asked for a recommendation from the ahjusshi was ran our accommodation and headed over to restaurant called “Hangook jib” (literally: Korean house).


Outside the boundary of the main touristy area, this place was pretty quiet but our guy assured us it was authentic and delicious and kind of famous because a former president had dined there once.

Bibimbap is normally a humble dish, but in Jeonju it gets quite fancy. The Jeonju version is based on a dish that was served in the royal court of the Joseon dynasty. It is presented in a gold metal bowl and includes some very special ingredients that you won’t find in your standard bibimbap: raw beef, yellow mung bean jelly, pine nuts and gingko nuts.

Here is how it looks pre-bibim:


And post-bibim:


My mum used to tell me off all the time for the “unladylike” way I would mix my bibimbap. Rice and gochujang would go everywhere and I’d end up with more outside the bowl than inside. But I’ve discovered a new technique to elegant bibim – use your chopsticks instead of your fork. It mixes things more evenly more quickly and is much less messy. See – only a few stray rice grains on the side of the bowl!

Unlike the usual bibimbap, all the ingredients of Jeonju bibimbap are cold to preserve the special flavor of the raw beef. The rice is still warm, but not steaming hot. So the resulting taste and mouthfeel is quite different – it’s fresh and the unique flavour and texture of each component is kept distinct. It’s interesting and tastes great, but given the choice, I think I would still choose the standard dolsot (hot stone) bibimbap over fancy Jeonju bibimbap. Dolsot bibimbap is my death row dish.

I’ve clearly inherited my tastes buds from my mum because despite being in Jeonju, she couldn’t resist the hot sizzling call of the dolsot. It came with the exact same ingredients except that the beef on top is already cooked.


The ONE thing I was a bit disappointed with was the absence of a glossy raw egg yolk, which is the golden crown that sits atop the dish in all the photos I’ve seen. According to my dad, historically accurate Jeonju bibimbap doesn’t include the raw egg, which is a more modern addition. I still felt gypped. If I had to choose between authenticity and egg, I choose egg.

Even without the egg, its about as high-class as bibimbap gets. I loved it – but I made sure to leave at least a spoonful of rice in my bowl to create the illusion of self-controlled eating. But it didn’t really matter anyway – my parents were too busy lecturing me about my foolish reluctance to resume my legal career to even notice how much I was eating.

After dinner, we walked back to the Hanok village to grab some slushie beer which we had been coveting all day. Everyone we walked by seemed to have one in hand, but we had to wait until after dinner to get ourselves one to avoid being red-faced and drowsy in the daylight (all Chois have a very severe case of Asian Flush.)


The concept of a beer slushie is pure genius. It combines the most loved beverage of our childhood (slushies) with the most loved beverage of our adulthood (beer) into the perfect summer refreshment. I don’t understand why it isn’t EVERYWHERE. It’s amazing!


They mix cold beer on tap with the syrup of your choice (we got grapefruit) then top it off the cloudy white beer slush.


Mrs Choi approves.

A few sips of slushie beer got my mum in a good mood, so I convinced her that we also needed to try some deep-fried whole squid on a stick (통오징어튀김).


Mrs Kang smiles tipsily and has no idea how many grams of fat she will soon be consuming.


Of all the [blank]-on-a-stick things I’ve eaten in Korea, this one WINS. It’s a whole squid lightly battered and deep-fried, and then seasoned with whatever flavor your heart desires. It comes to you hot, fresh, salty, crispy and chewy and is even better when washed down with a sip of slushie beer. It was so good that mum completely forgot to give me her favorite smackdown about the perils of eating fried foods late in the evening.

It was an emotionally taxing day, but I managed to get through it without bursting into tears, causing a scene, or stabbing someone with a wooden skewer. And I still got to eat some yummy food… just conditioned on the promise that I would exercise regularly and eat more salads back in Seoul. A promise I had no intention of keeping, but in wartime, you just gotta do whatever it takes to survive.

To be continued . . .

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Guilty Pleasures @ Guilty Pleasure, Itaewon

I have a new algorithm that helps me determine whether or not something I eat is blogworthy, or will simply be shared as a square, filtered photo and a punchy caption on my Instagram. It’s impossible to explain, not because it’s arbitrary, but because it’s, like, super complex. It inputs factors like photogenicity of dishes, number of dishes deemed photogenic (need at least 3 for blog), how much I enjoy the food, how unique the food is, whether there is a deeper story and wider narrative to the meal that goes beyond just me shoveling delicious food into my mouth because I’m hungry, whether something funny or otherwise noteworthy happened during the meal, whether the meal leaves such a lasting impression that I’m still happy to blog about it three months after the event, and so on.

All that to say, any place that makes it onto my blog should feel totally honoured. Also, FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM! You will get all (well, most) of my food and none of my babble (maybe just a little bit).

The lucky star of today’s blog is a place I found out about from a Facebook post on the “Top 5 Mac and Cheese in Seoul.” Before Korea, mac and cheese was something that came out of a Kraft box and was only eaten by poor uni students when they ran out of Mee Goreng. But now that I’m practically an honorary American (sorry, that’s what expat life does to ya!) I’m totally into stuff like mac and cheese. A restaurant in Itaewon called “Guilty Pleasure” (love the name, too) had, by far, the sexiest mac and cheese on the list so it raced up to the no. 1 spot on my TBE List (To Be Eaten List – I just made that up, let’s turn it into a thing.)


If you didn’t know this was a restaurant, the bright blue neon signage that greets you at the door could easily confuse you into thinking that the pleasures being offered here were quite a bit guiltier than moreish Southern America cuisine. But it’s just the design concept guys. The only sin being committed here is gluttony… and maybe covetousness as you look over at your neighbour’s table.


We sat outside on the little terrace which has a VERY different vibe to the dark, moody bar inside the restaurant. The place has a great concept – “The Food You Crave,” and by “You” they mean North Americans because the menu includes all the things that my American/Canadian friends can’t shut up about – mac and cheese, biscuits, southern fried chicken, poutine, etc. The Australian version of this place would have hot chips and gravy, meat pies, sausage rolls, fish & chips, smashed avocado on toast, cheesymite scrolls… omg should I open this restaurant?! If anyone has a few hundred thousand dollars lying around and is looking for a fun but risky investment, let me know!


The napkin’s are printed with this AWESOME quote from Bruno the dog and made me smile that special smile you smile when you go to a restaurant and realise that they share your fatty boombah food philosophy. I wanted to give the owner/chef a high five.


The mac and cheese comes out in a souffle dish looking swag like a cheese brulee. It costs 10,000 won which is A LOT for a side dish, but it is a rather deluxe version of the American classic. Cauliflower and cheese base, bacon lardons, pulled pork and truffle oil. It’s basically impossible for the combination of all those things to not be crazy delicious.


And crazy delicious it certainly was. The “truffle oil” wasn’t just a menu trick to justify the price tag, the flavour was really strong and there was plenty of bacon and pulled pork in there to keep things interesting. The cheese sauce was thick and tasty, like it was mostly melted cheddar with just enough milk to give it a creamy texture. The best mac and cheese I’ve ever had in my limited experience – substantial, too! Better shared between a party of three or more people… but even just me and my fellow hungry girl friend managed to clean it up pretty good.


We also got the Cuban Sandwich (15,000 won), which is THE sandwich of the hour thanks to the movie Chef. Korea is going through a cooking show / celebrity chef CRAZE right now so the movie was really popular here and Cubanos are popping up everywhere. And honestly, as a far as sandwiches are concerned, the Cuban is worth going a but nuts over. Two types of pork (ham and roasted), a layer of pickles, Swiss cheese, and mustard between crusty bread that’s buttered and toasted. I had my first one at a sandwich place in Itaewon (Rye Post) and felt confused about why this amazing thing had taken so long to become a worldwide phenomenon. Seriously, why have we been eating chicken salad sandwiches, and ham and cheese sandwiches, and roast beef sandwiches when we could have been eating Cubanos?


The Cuban here is not really by the book, and while Fidel may disapprove of the liberties taken with this particular version, I give it two greasy thumbs up. It comprises homemade duck prosciutto (didn’t know such a thing existed, but I’m thankful that it does), pork loin confit, Swiss cheese, pickle, Dijon mustard aioli, on a pressed Italian roll. The cuisines of five different nations went into making this sandwich, and they should all be proud. The buttery bread and the salty-fatty meat should really be too much to stomach but the mustard and pickle do a really great job balancing things out, and before you know it all you’re left with is crumbs.

We probably could have stopped there, but you can’t eat conservatively at a place called “Guilty Pleasure.” We were here to indulge our tastebuds and fatten our bellies without shame.


It was a really tough choice between the duck poutine (french fries topped with duck confit, served with brown duck gravy and paremesan cheese) and the buttermilk fried chicken but there is something about the words “buttermilk fried chicken” that is irresistible. This is 3/4 baby chicken with house special spice served with house buttermilk biscuits and country sausage gravy (17,000 won).

Buttermilk fried chicken usually refers to chicken that is brined in buttermilk and spices, but since the menu description only mentions buttermilk in relation to the biscuits, now I’m questioning whether there was any buttermilk involved in cooking the chicken at all. But that’s actually besides the point, because regardless of how they prepared it, the chicken was freaking good. The batter was dark gold, crispy, and light and was perfectly seasoned with Southern spices.

Honestly, I’m kind of sick of Korean Fried Chicken – it’s relies so much on sauce and marinade and the plain fried chicken (which I like best) tends to be under-seasoned so that all you can taste is frying oil. I actually miss the 11 secret herbs and spices of good ol’ KFC.

As for the biscuits and gravy… they got no love from us. We left them almost completely untouched. I’m really struggling to get on board the American style biscuits and gravy train. It’s still weird for me to see buttery scones and a chunky white sauce when, to my Aussie brain, the name suggests sweet cookies and glossy brown beef gravy. I also can’t handle eating a buttery scone-like “biscuit” with a savoury meal – it’s too weird! And let’s be honest guys, sausage gravy looks like vomit. I know ya’ll love the stuff, but come on, you can’t deny the resemblance. It’s a thick white sauce with big chunks of ground meat in it. Fair enough if you’ve grown up eating it but for me… no thank you. Not yet anyway. My Americanizzzzzation has not reached that level.


Guilty Pleasure was one of the most satisfying non-Korean food experiences I’ve had in Seoul. The menu takes American home-cooked classics that could easily be mediocre and turns them into something a little more cosmopolitan, without sacrificing any of the high-fat, high-carb, high-flavour charm that makes this kind of food so comforting. So whether you’re a fatty, or a foodie, or a foodie-fatty like myself, there’s plenty to be enjoyed at Guilty Pleasure. Just remember to leave your conscience at the door.

Guilty Pleasure
1F, 2-10 Itaewon-ro 20-gil,
Seoul, Korea

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Texas Trip of a Lifetime Q4: BBQ for Breakfast

With our utter failure to find an open barbecue truck on Monday and only one morning left to spend in Austin, the idea of having to leave without even trying its world famous barbecue was becoming a real possibility. We had planned a full day of of outlet shopping for Tuesday, and while I was willing to forego that for food, Matt was not and as desperate as I was, I wasn’t prepared to break up our marriage over smoked brisket.

I needed to find a place where we could eat as early and as quickly as possible, which effectively meant that we were going to have to eat barbecue for breakfast but I didn’t have a problem with that.

So this was my plan: check out of our hotel and drive to the La Barbecue truck about half an hour before its opening time of 11 am, PRAY that there isn’t a line, and hopefully be finished eating by midday, leaving us plenty of time to go shopping and stick to our schedule for remainder of the day.

I woke up that morning feeling incredibly anxious. I kept on visualising driving up to the truck, seeing a ridiculously long line, and being forced to just turn around and watch my barbecue dreams slowly fade away as we drove off into the distance . . .

Luckily, the barbecue gods decided to give me a fair go that day. We arrived at La Barbecue at 10:30 am and HOORAY there was only a handful of people waiting on the picnic benches.


This is when I started to let myself get excited.


La Barbecue is owned and run by LeAnn Mueller, who hails from a Texan barbecue dynasty. Her brother John runs John Mueller Meat Co which is a name you’ll find alongside La Barbecue on almost every “Best BBQ” list about Texas. Mueller enlisted the expertise of pitmaster John Lewis (ex-Franklin Barbecue, nicknamed the “badass brisket boy” and now moving on to open his own restaurant in Charleston, South Carolina) and after swinging open its trailer doors in late 2012, La Barbecue very quickly become a top contender in the Austin BBQ stakes.


I didn’t really expect such a famous food hotspot to look so… dingy. I guess all the money goes into the meats and the pitmaster’s salary.

This is the firepit trailer. It fits thirty-two briskets, twenty-four racks of beef ribs, sixteen racks of pork ribs, three whole turkey breasts, and six pork butts. Basically, an entire farm of animal carcasses (sorry vegetarians!)


The menu is written out in marker on big sheet of butcher’s paper confirming that absolutely zero dollars are going into design and decor here. As 11am approached and a line began to form, we studied the menu and realized that our original plan of just walking up to the counter and saying “one of everything, please!” wasn’t going to work out, especially with beef ribs costing $22 + tax per pound, and each rib weighing almost 2 lbs.


In the line there was a mix of people who were clearly tourists (couples like us who were over-excited, stressed about what to order, and taking photos all over the place), and men who were there by themselves or with a mate, with their hands in their pockets just chillin’ like they were in the line at McDonalds. The guys in front of us looked like they were local regulars so we asked them for recommendations on what to order.


They recommended the brisket (duh) and the beef ribs, and also mentioned the sausage was pretty good. Given the cost and size of the beef rib, we decided against it since Matt and I aren’t really big beef-eaters. Matt wanted pork ribs because they’re his fave, and I wanted to try some turkey because I’m a sucker for turkey meat and I’ve never had it barbecued. As we approached the counter, they gave each person a small cube of brisket as a sample. As I bit into it, the explosion of fatty, salty, juicy, smokey flavor made me shout “OMG THIS IS SO GOOD!” so loud that Matt got upset and told me to calm down and stand further away from him.

After a lot of careful thought, this was our final order: 3/4 pound brisket, 1 pound pork ribs (Matt’s choice), 1/4 pound turkey (my choice) and 1 sausage. On the side, chipotle coleslaw and pinto beans. About fifty dollars in total, including tax.



I can hear my stomach weep as I look over these photos.

We sat down at a table with, not a plate, not a platter, but a TRAY full of meat and began to eat the greasiest, most carnivorous brunch of our lives.


The pork ribs were spice-rubbed and glazed so shiny you could almost see your face in them. The meat fell off the bone like the it didn’t want anything to do with it, and in my opinion these were the best pork ribs I’ve had in my life. Matt prefers his ribs saucier, but he still polished these off within minutes.

The turkey breast was just okay – grilled as a breast alone it didn’t have the juiciness off turkey meat bathed in butter and roasted whole for hours in the oven. It would be good in a sandwich, but by itself it was just taking up precious stomach space I needed to reserve for brisket.

Did someone say brisket?



These days, any old food photo is hashtag food porn, but the brisket in this picture is so fleshy and sensual that it almost makes me blush. Covered in a crusty black salt and pepper rub that fades into a scarlet smoke ring, there’s a layer of perfectly rendered fat dripping into the butcher’s paper, and the meat falls apart on impact with tray.

Brisket is not a naturally tender cut of meat (it’s a muscle that acts as a cow’s collarbone) so cooking it well is a labour of love and at La Barbecue, it spends twelve to fifteen hours in the pit. If something takes FIFTEEN hours to cook (not including the time it takes to pre-rub and rub) you can be pretty confident that the final product is worth the effort.

Smoked and slow-cooked, the flavour of the meat is as intense as you’d expect. I’ve never had beef that tasted so … beefy. It was like rehydrated black pepper jerky – which doesn’t  make it sound very delicious but if you love beef jerky as much as I do, this is a very good thing. The meat is greasy and the flavour is intense, so eating it with white bread and chipotle slaw (the slaw is really good here btw) helps keep your tastebuds from being too overwhelmed. I’m not quite caveman enough to just eat the meat by itself.

The brisket was so different from anything I’d eaten before, I loved it just for the cultural experience and bragging rights. As much as I wanted it to be the best thing I ate in Texas, that honor still belongs to (don’t judge) my Chick-Fil-A Chicken sandwich. What was even more unexpected, however, was that it wasn’t even the best thing we ate at La Barbecue. It was shockingly upstaged by something we added to our order just because it was cheap and worth a try: the Texas Hot Guts sausage.


The sausage is bright red like a bell pepper and is so fat it looks ready to pop like a pork intestine balloon. Sausage making is a craft of its own, so even the most expert BBQ-ers outsource to professionals. But the sausage at La Barbecue is a John Lewis original. It’s built with a foundation of coarse, greasy beef and is packed with all kinds of secret spices. It is so red, hot, and salty that it was more like a juicy beef chorizo than the BBQ sausages that I’m used to. If we ever find ourselves back at La Barbecue, we won’t be there for the brisket, we’ll be stocking up on the sausages.


So in about thirty minutes, “Omg I think we ordered too much food” turned into an empty tray of grease-soaked butcher’s paper.

We may have eaten this meal with plastic cutlery on a damp wooden picnic table, but the food was world class. Even with my limited experience, I know it’ll be a long time before we eat barbecue this excellent again. I give it four… no, five out of five NBA championship rings.

Five Championships

Now we carry a little piece of Austin with us wherever we go in the pound of weight we each gained from that one meal. “See this new chin I’ve grown? Yeah, I got that all the way from Austin, Texas.”

We knew that San Antonio was way behind Austin in the Texas BBQ rankings, but we still wanted to give it a try. San Antonio BBQ isn’t really famous outside of San Antonio, so I relied on Yelp to help me find a local favorite.


The Big Big (great name) is ranked #1 on Yelp and is located just off the highway. Unlike the cool backyard trailer of La Barbecue, this place had more of a truck driver’s diner vibe.


With Spurs logo painted on the wall and a friendly “You deserve to eat this good” greeting us, we liked this place from the moment we walked in. Here you can buy meats by the pound or as a plate of one or two meats with two sides of your choice.


Even though I wasn’t a HUGE fan of the brisket at La Barbecue, I can’t resist ordering the local speciality when I travel so I got the brisket again, with some pulled pork, collard greens and pinto beans. Collard greens because I saw them on Top Chef and I’ve always wondered what they tasted like. They’re mushy and gross, it turns out. Like someone stewed up some random plants from the yard because they didn’t have any other vegetables to serve with their meat.

You can see from the photo that the brisket here was no where near as glamorous as the one at La Barbecue. It was still tender, but the smoky flavor was milder which I actually quite liked. The pulled pork was just pulled pork and was not really a smart choice on my part. I should have gone for the bbq chicken.


Matt got the pork ribs (of course), which were good but nothing particularly special. I think he enjoyed his sweet potato casserole even more than his meat.


I got pretty excited about the bottomless styrofoam soda cups which were as big as my face (“This is SO American!”) but people tell me this isn’t actually that big haha.

We finished our plates (with the exception of the icky collard greens) but felt like something was a bit lacking. So, as fatties do, we went back to the counter and ordered some more food. Since we had such a good sausage experience in Austin, we thought we’d try the Jalapeno sausage here too.


Really spicy and tasty, as all sausages are, but I think the hot red sausage at La Barbecue ruined us for life. Nothing will ever come close.

This was all I was meant to get but as I was waiting in line I saw all these framed newspaper clippings raving about the peach cobbler, so I thought I’d just add that to the order for dessert.


It was good but SUPER sweet and we could only handle a few spoonfuls.

If La Barbecue is the hipster, “fine dining” version of Texas Barbecue, The Big Bib is your friendly mom and pop’s. Cheap and cheerful – the whole meal cost us about half of our tray from La Barbecue. I give it a rarely seen, very special Kawhi smile.

Kawhi Smile

And with a heavy heart, I now end the four-part saga that was my trip to Texas; a place I fell in love with so fast and deep I actually wept at San Antonio airport as we waited for our flight back home to Seoul.


Texas: Austin, San Antonio, my Spurs, Sixth Street, the River Walk, Tex Mex, Chik-Fil-A, In-N-Out, and Barbecue – you are my new favourite. The hero of all my dreams. The place I would always rather be. I’ll miss you but I promise I’ll be back.


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