12 Mississippi Family-Owned Smokehouses Keeping Tradition On The Pit

I’ve always believed the best barbecue tells you where you are before anyone speaks. In Mississippi, that truth comes through in every curl of smoke and every handshake across the counter.

I drove the long stretches from Clarksdale to Ocean Springs with the windows cracked, following the scent of oak and hickory, hungry for something deeper than flavor. At each stop, families tended fires that had been burning for generations, ribs lacquered with pride, brisket soft enough to break with a fork, sides that taste like home.

These places don’t perform hospitality; they live it. Pull up, breathe in, and stay a while. This is barbecue that remembers, and it’ll remember you too.

1. Abe’s Bar-B-Q (Clarksdale)

The smell hits before the sign does, a sweet, peppery haze drifting through Clarksdale’s crossroads. Inside, Abe’s hums with life: red booths, jukebox glow, and regulars trading stories like currency. It’s got that lived-in Mississippi ease that doesn’t need polishing.

Their chopped beef sandwich is legendary, juicy, soft, layered with just enough sauce to stain your fingers but never drown the smoke. Every bite feels old-school in the best way.

Ninety-plus years later, Abe’s is still the real thing. Come hungry, leave sticky-fingered and happy.

2. Leatha’s Bar-B-Que (Petal)

First comes the scent of hickory, then the laughter from the porch where Leatha’s regulars gather. The place feels like an old friend’s house, wooden walls and handwritten menus guiding you toward something sacred.

The ribs are what make people drive hours, bark dark as molasses, meat sliding clean from the bone, sauce light enough to let the smoke speak. It’s barbecue that respects time.

Opened in the 1970s and still family-run, Leatha’s stays full year-round. Best plan: arrive early and let your evening slow down.

3. The Shed Barbecue & Blues Joint (Ocean Springs)

There’s nothing tidy about The Shed, it’s part junkyard, part juke joint, every inch buzzing. Neon beer signs mix with license plates and blues riffs spilling out the door. It feels alive, chaotic, perfect.

Their baby back ribs carry that same energy—pecan-smoked, caramel-barked, dripping with tangy heat that lingers like a good guitar solo. Even the sides sing harmony.

I’ve eaten here with friends and strangers alike, and somehow everyone ends up laughing. The Shed rewires your mood.

4. The Little Dooey (Starkville)

There’s always motion at The Little Dooey, students laughing, smoke curling from the pit, cars looping through the drive-thru like clockwork. The air carries that spicy-sweet scent that makes you hungry before you even park. It’s casual and unpretentious, exactly what barbecue should be.

The pulled pork sandwich is the claim to fame, layered with tender meat and sauce that balances tang and comfort. The hush puppies deserve equal praise, crisp edges, soft centers, perfect salt.

Locals swear by it for tailgate weekends. Go early on game days; by noon, it’s a full-blown barbecue parade.

5. Handy Andy (Oxford)

The burger here isn’t an afterthought, it’s what defines Handy Andy. Pressed flat on the griddle until the edges crisp, it lands under a sheet of melted cheese and the faintest hint of smoke from the pit behind the counter.

Each bite hits salty, juicy, and just nostalgic enough to matter. This place started as a small grocery decades ago, and the family has kept it charmingly old-fashioned ever since.

Even the drink fridge hums with history. For your visit: bring cash, skip the rush hour, and eat slow, it’s gone too soon otherwise.

6. Goldie’s Trail Bar-B-Que (Vicksburg)

The scent of oak lingers long before you reach the door, sharp and sweet at once. Inside, the walls glow amber from the smoke, and waitresses move with practiced ease through the crowd. Goldie’s hums like it’s been here forever.

Their ribs tell the real story, smoked long and low, brushed with a pepper-vinegar sauce that bites just enough to wake the palate. The texture walks that perfect line between chew and melt.

I’ve had ribs all over the South, but Goldie’s carries something deeper, a slow burn of memory that stays with you.

7. Murky Waters Blues & BBQ (Gulfport)

The first thing you notice is the music, live blues pouring from the patio, bouncing off the brick walls, smoke drifting in rhythm with the bassline. It’s part juke joint, part smokehouse, and completely alive.

The brisket stands out most: thick-cut, deeply smoked, rimmed with that pink halo only patience can make. Sauces come in playful shades, from sweet heat to Carolina tang, and each one earns its keep.

Murky Waters feels like a party that happens to serve great food. You stay longer than you planned, always.

8. Hickory Pit (Jackson)

The pork shoulder here doesn’t need an introduction, it arrives steaming, dark-edged, and falling apart under its own weight. The sauce is tangy but balanced, complementing rather than smothering the meat.

Every bite tastes deliberate, earned. Opened in 1960, Hickory Pit has stayed in the same family, the same building, even the same smoke-stained walls. You can almost feel the decades in the air.

If you’re visiting during lunch rush, expect a line of regulars out the door. It moves fast, and it’s worth every step.

9. McInnis’ 12 Bone BBQ (Gulfport)

There’s something hypnotic about the hiss from the pit here, each exhale of smoke heavy with hickory and sweet fat. The open-air layout lets the scent trail through the parking lot, a promise before you even order.

The ribs justify the name: twelve bones, each one lacquered in sauce that caramelizes into a sticky glaze. They taste like backyard pride and family tradition combined.

I remember licking the last of the sauce from my fingers, not caring about napkins. This place makes you forget your manners, happily so.

10. Ubon’s Barbeque (Yazoo City)

The smoke from Ubon’s rolls down the block before sunrise, a low haze that carries notes of hickory and spice. Inside, the pitmasters move with quiet rhythm, hands steady, eyes half-closed in concentration. There’s no flash here, just skill, family, and fire.

The pork shoulder glows red-brown under a thin layer of sauce, juicy and confident. Each bite has that slow-smoked sweetness that only comes from decades of repetition.

Ubon’s family recipe dates back five generations. Visit during the summer festival, they serve until the last rack disappears.

11. Betty Davis Bar-B-Que (Waterford)

The ribs here arrive still sizzling, their glaze catching light like lacquered wood. A whisper of smoke escapes when you cut in, carrying hints of vinegar and caramel. The flavor builds with every chew, tender, peppery, unexpectedly bright.

This roadside spot has been family-run for more than fifty years, surviving on word of mouth and steady hands behind the pit. Its small sign barely hints at what’s inside.

Tip: order take-out before the lunch rush. Locals descend early, and once it’s gone, it’s gone for the day.

12. The Pig & Pint (Jackson)

You hear the clatter before you smell the smoke: music, laughter, and the scrape of metal trays from an open kitchen alive with motion. The vibe is urban-playful, but the roots are pure Delta. Picnic tables fill fast, and no one minds sharing.

Their standout dish is the pulled-pork tacos, smoked meat topped with slaw and just enough heat to make you grin. It’s barbecue with a wink.

I’ve spent afternoons here that vanished too fast. When a place nails both comfort and creativity, you simply stay for another round of ribs.