Smokin' Buns in West, Texas: A Pit Stop of Disappointment
I've always thought critics loved throwing one-star reviews around, reveling in the gloom of it all. Turns out, I'm not much of a critic, just someone who loves great food and counts on reviews to help make sure my fellow diners and I enjoy our meals. Which is why writing this particular review pains me, but I hope it's taken as feedback for improvement.
Nestled just off the highway near the Czech pastry shops, Smokin' Buns stands out like a bright red barn among the Texas horizon--a BBQ spot with a drive-thru and a homey vibe. Tired from the road, we opted to stretch our legs and dine inside. And that's where the surprises began: it's far bigger inside than it looks from the outside, a sprawling, rustic wood interior accents, complete with old-school tchotchkes, Texas news on the TV, and a good ol' Texan greeting. So far, so good.
We ordered a meat plate and a burger, though some of the essential BBQ items were out of stock (midweek blues, I suppose). As we waited, the only other patron--a patient elderly lady--was still lingering, waiting for her to-go order, and the dining room's chill had us shivering a bit. Finally, her food arrived. Moments later, ours did too.
Let's get down to it: if you've ever had fast-food BBQ like Dickey's or Spring Creek, Smokin' Buns is a few steps down from even that. The brisket was dry and old, tasting more like jerky than the tender, juicy slices one expects. The sausage? Picture thick-cut Eckrich straight from the microwave. The "queso" was nothing but a basic Rotel mix.
Then came the sides. The mac and cheese? Pure cafeteria flashback--watery and flavorless. The bread was just two pieces of plain Mrs. Baird's, no butter, no toasting, no love. The BBQ sauce tasted suspiciously store-bought (my bet's on Kraft). The most vibrant part of the plate was the side toppings: fresh red onions and pickles.
Then there was the burger--a bit of redemption, but with toppings so cold they felt slapped on as an afterthought. The onion rings were the best part, and the truffle fries missed the mark entirely, more like limp fries than anything worthy of "truffle."
Before leaving, I thought we'd give dessert a chance and bought an apple mini pie. That was the final straw--the crust was raw, and the glazed apple slices tasted canned, disappointing to the core.
To sum it up, this felt like food bought at the store and served at a potluck, trying to pass off as homemade. And, like any potluck with fake home-cooking, everyone caught on quick.
As we paid, the cashier suggested the milkshake, "It's the best I've ever had," she said, homemade and all. Lesson learned for next time: just ask the cashier what to order.
With its Texas hospitality, charming interior, and even a clean restroom, Smokin' Buns has its appeal. But we came for the food, and even the flies barely gave it a glance. If this place reinvented itself as a burger, milkshake, and onion ring joint, they might just be onto something. As for the rest? Maybe a bit of soul and seasoning are in order.