12 Austin, Texas Barbecue Joints Food People Keep Recommending

Austin's Best BBQ Joints Everyone Is Talking About

Austin is often synonymous with brisket and smoke, so when food folks mention barbecue, they whisper names you’ve heard and others you haven’t.

But what about the unexpected ones, spots that get passed along in hushed recommendations, tucked into suburban blocks or side streets?

In this list, I wander through twelve places locals and aficionados push to friends. I look at the meats, the smoke, the settings, the customer rituals. Whether you’re a visiting pilgrim or long-time local, these are joints to test your BBQ theory.

1. Franklin Barbecue

From the moment you join the line on East 11th Street, you sense gravity. The smokehouse looms, and hours of patient waiting become part of the experience.

They use post oak wood and big briskets, trimmed simply with salt and pepper, letting the smoke take center stage. Pulled pork, ribs, sausage also appear, but people come for that brisket.

It’s hard not to believe the hype. On a sweltering day, standing there, the first slice feels like a reward earned.

2. La Barbecue

A smaller footprint than Franklin’s, la Barbecue hits confidence in every bite. The interior is unpretentious: metal chairs, smoke-stained wood, friendly tension in the air.

Their brisket is lean but glossy, edges charred; the sausage links snap cleanly. The menu rotates, sometimes featuring smoked turkey or ribs. Their sides are simple but exactly right.

If I had to pick a “next up” after Franklin, la Barbecue would be it—the kind of place that makes you want to come back, not just check off a list.

3. Micklethwait Craft Meats

The first impression is of a white trailer framed by smokers and picnic tables. It feels like you’ve stumbled onto a backyard gathering.

Brisket, ribs, and sausages dominate, but what sets them apart are thoughtful sides, jalapeño cheese grits, lemon poppy slaw, fresh pies. Everything tastes crafted rather than mass-produced.

I admire how Micklethwait manages to stay small while still inventive. The mix of smoke and creativity makes this one of my most memorable Austin stops.

4. Terry Black’s Barbecue

Step inside and you’re met with a lively dining hall vibe. Families, tourists, and old-timers fill the long tables, creating a steady hum of chatter.

Brisket, beef ribs, and turkey arrive on butcher paper, each cut holding the balance of bark and tenderness. Sides like mac and cheese or creamed corn are crowd-pleasers.

They’ve scaled up without losing quality, and that’s rare. I’ve come here with groups, and the ease of ordering and sharing makes it an easy favorite.

5. LeRoy And Lewis Barbecue

You’ll find their trailer parked at Cosmic Coffee, surrounded by picnic tables and string lights. The air smells like oak smoke and sizzling fat.

Their menu runs creative: barbacoa-style beef cheeks, smoked pork hash, and brisket that still nods to tradition. They don’t shy from experiments, and it works.

LeRoy and Lewis feel like the future of Texas barbecue. I left thinking about the beef cheeks for days, surprised at how daring could also taste so comforting.

6. InterStellar BBQ

Tucked in a strip mall, it’s easy to underestimate until the smoke hits. Inside, the vibe is friendly and unhurried, with staff eager to talk meats.

Brisket is buttery, ribs glisten with glaze, and smoked turkey often steals the spotlight. They play with flavors, rubs and sides show small, creative twists.

I lingered here longer than planned, enjoying each bite at a steady pace. It felt less like grabbing a meal and more like staying for an afternoon.

7. Stiles Switch BBQ

The old Violet Crown Shopping Center holds this joint, neon sign glowing. The space has history, and you feel it in the walls.

Brisket and ribs lead the way, with sausage and chicken rounding out the menu. Their Switch Original sandwich, chopped brisket with sausage, has its own following.

This place hums with neighborhood regulars. I’ve sat by the window, eating slowly, watching the door swing open for familiar faces again and again.

8. The Original Black’s BBQ

Black’s roots stretch back to Lockhart, but their Austin outpost brings that legacy closer to town. The dining room feels anchored, wood-paneled and steady.

Their brisket carries smoke deep into the fat, sausage is peppery, and beef ribs are massive, made for sharing. The sides lean traditional and comforting.

It’s the kind of spot I visit when I want grounding. Eating here feels like connecting to the wider Texas barbecue story without leaving Austin.

9. Brown’s Bar-B-Que

Brown’s trailer sits in a church parking lot, smoke rising into the traffic-heavy street. It feels casual, unpolished, and honest.

The menu is brisket, ribs, sausage, with sides like slaw and beans. Service is quick, and the plates come out heavy with meat.

I love places like this, no flash, just wood, fire, and care. Eating under a picnic umbrella here made me feel like part of Austin’s everyday rhythm.

10. SLAB BBQ

SLAB (Slow, Low, and Bangin’) has a livelier edge than most joints. Music plays, murals brighten the space, and the energy feels younger.

They’re known for barbecue sandwiches with names like “Texas O.G.” and “Notorious P.I.G.,” layering brisket or pulled pork with sauces and slaw. The meats themselves stand strong, smoky and well-seasoned.

For me, SLAB captures barbecue’s playful side. It’s not about reverence, it’s about fun, flavor, and a plate you don’t forget.

11. Distant Relatives

The brewery setting gives this place an open-air, communal vibe. Kids run around, beer flows, and the smoker works in the corner.

Their menu draws on African and African American food traditions: pulled pork with tamarind molasses, brisket with peppery bark, smoked chicken with coriander. Sides lean toward beans and collards.

I found their approach refreshing. It tasted like barbecue evolving, rooted in history but unafraid to tell new stories through fire and smoke.

12. The Salt Lick BBQ

Arriving in Driftwood, the smell greets you before the sight of the legendary open pit. Flames flicker under racks of ribs and briskets in plain view.

They cook over live oak, using a sauce without tomatoes, letting tang and smoke define the flavor. Brisket smokes for nearly a full day, ribs for hours.

I’ve come here with friends and felt like part of something larger than a meal. The Salt Lick isn’t just a restaurant, it’s a pilgrimage worth making.