As I walked through the rain-soaked gates of Bleu Garten, it was impossible not to feel like I was back in my middle school lunch room.
Searching for an open table as popped-collar bros clutching local brews gave me the once over while women who’d never give me the time of day eye-rolled as I sauntered past, there I was, the oldest and fattest dude in a sea of perfect So6ix readers. I must’ve turned around and almost left three or four times, the constant crashing of oversized Jenga pieces rattling my nerves like a skittish dog.
I was there to visit a food truck I had heard many good things about—the Flying Pig BBQ and Mobile Smokehouse—and, in particular, to try a wholly original creation on their menu called the B-52, served Beast-style, if possible. Founded by pitmaster David Greggs, I was impressed that in a city full of BBQ imitators and amateurs—especially on the food truck circuit—he was actually trying new things with his stellar eats beyond the typical two meats and a side or, heck, even the simple BBQ sandwich.
Trudging the entire length of the Garten, all the way to the back where the Flying Pig was located, definitely mustered up some form of post-traumatic stress, imagined or otherwise, as I kept my head down, horse-blinders ignoring the high-pitched giggles, dutifully standing in the moderately long line to place my order. The smell of smoked meats were dutifully intoxicating, as I’m sure you’d guess.