Brisket heaven in strip-mall hell: Great Madison barbecue in odd places
The Fat Jack's piggie mascot surveys his dominion.
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Austin, Birmingham, Macon... no, Madison is not usually on the list of cities with great barbecue joints. Nonetheless, a careful look flips stereotypes on their lids and reveals some excellent brisket, slow-roasted pork, and fried chicken right here in town. Madison's barbecue joints tend to hide in odd locations, suggesting a kind of weirdly inverse natural law: The better the brisket, the stranger the venue. The A.V. Club explores this peculiar local corollary of barbecue-to-weird.
Smoky Jon's (2310 Packers Ave., 608-249-7427)
Just past the airport exit on Packers Avenue, this small Madison institution—often overlooked despite the various awards that cover its walls—nonetheless maintains a North Woods lodge vibe. The brisket is phenomenally tender and flavorful, spicy corn soaks in seasoned butter, and the sugar-fried sweet cakes make for an excellent sweet side—they are really a kind of dinner doughnut.
The special: Gourmet extra-spicy chili is in season right now, and it will knock you on your ass.
Papa Bear's BBQ (4527 Cottage Grove Rd., 608-222-2374)
This Monona storefront is a totally unassuming hole in the wall in a strip mall, but has tremendous brisket, good "Papa Bear" burgers made with the joint's own olive sauce, tender smoked chicken, an eye-bugging rib tip/sausage combo, and some of the best baked beans in town. Better still, the walls are festooned with DayGlo paintings of giant, anthropomorphic bears. There's also one of those trick coin-operated pick-a-toy machines with the pincers that are unable to grasp any object (are these oiled, or what?). The decor doesn't keep Papa Bear's from being a crowded lunch spot, though.
The special: The shredded pork brisket sandwich runs about $5, but it's a revelation of perfectly crisped pork with an interior buttery tenderness.
Doug's Soul Food Café (1325 Greenway Cross, 608-819-8900)
Doug's disheveled exterior gives no hint that inside is a pure presentation of Alabama-style food from the '40s and '50s (i.e., the chef's childhood). The short ribs are succulent, the cornmeal-breaded catfish is tender with a perfectly flaky crust, and the fried chicken is utterly unmatched in the city. Stepping away from the well-lit interior's tablecloths and flowers, it may be a shock to suddenly realize you're actually standing in mud outside a strip mall in Wisconsin.
The special: The lemon pound cake with a dusting of powdered sugar is simultaneously dense and airy—an almost magic-trick-caliber feat of baking.
