This is not an “I hate Aaron Franklin” post. I like the guy. I have both of his books, first edition, day of publication. I’ve watched his whole series on PBS. I’ve watched his Masterclass. He’s a cool, smart dude.
This is also not an “I hate the wait at Franklin” post. Truly it is long, but man, they do everything they can to make it a smooth process. Free water. Free bathrooms. Free chairs. Free communication as to what ‘cue is left and how long the wait will be to get it.
So what is this post? This post is honesty: Franklin has really dropped the ball on everything but the brisket. Hard pass the rest.
But let’s talk brisket. Franklin’s is as near to perfect as there is. Juicy, smoky, peppery, and it gives all the soft jiggles you want from it.
And if you’re lucky enough, you just might get a burnt end or two while you wait in line.
The line does take a while, and those last 30 minutes from your entry through the door to arriving at the counter are full of anticipation and great smells. There’s lots of camaraderie among the crowd. There’s also a great selection of hats and shirts at good prices.
Don’t worry about the tables. By the time you get up and through the line, enough will free up. Spend this time looking at the menu and thinking about what you want to order.
When you sidle up to the front, it’s quite a show. So much slicing going on.
Check out this beast!
After our 3 hour wait in line, we ordered everything they had left: fatty and lean brisket, turkey breast, sausage, coleslaw, potato salad and plenty of cold, cold beers.
We grabbed a table outside, and dug in. The brisket is beautiful. It’s all the adjectives. At least every good one.
The big disappointment here were the sides. They lacked correct seasoning. They lacked attention and care. They were, well, boring. Not worth the money. Certainly not worth the wait in that long line.
No doubt the Franklin brisket is beautiful. It’s right up at the top of any brisket I’ve had. But that line is a killer. And since the rest of the options just never got the same type of careful attention as the brisket, there’s a solid argument for just passing Franklin by. Without naming names, there’s closely equivalent (or perhaps equally equivalent) brisket within a couple of blocks, from similarly cool, pleasant folks, and without the long wait.