10 Oklahoma BBQ Buffets Locals Drive For When Only Smoke Will Do
Oklahoma’s barbecue buffets carry a kind of homespun rhythm, smoke curling slow, trays clattering, and conversations stretching longer than the meal itself. Across the state, from roadside smokehouses to family-run halls, the promise of “all you can eat” still means something: generosity, time, and food that keeps its soul.
Ribs fall apart with a gentle pull, brisket glows with that deep bronze edge, and the sides, beans, cornbread, slaw, taste like they’ve been perfected over decades. These ten buffets have become destinations for anyone who measures joy in slow-cooked portions and second helpings.
So come hungry, grab a plate, and settle in. Oklahoma barbecue rewards patience, appetite, and a willingness to stay a little longer than planned.
1. Stone Mill BBQ & Steakhouse (Broken Arrow)
The warm light spilling from the wood-paneled dining room feels like a Sunday afternoon that never ends. Locals linger here, refilling plates with quiet satisfaction.
Stone Mill’s buffet runs heavy on ribs and brisket, smoked over hickory and glazed with their signature tangy sauce. Everything tastes deliberate,patient, even. The rolls come hot, and the meat falls with a sigh from the bone.
I once sat here through an entire thunderstorm just to justify another plate. Oklahoma barbecue has a way of resetting your priorities.
2. My Place Bar-B-Que West (Muskogee)
The air is thick with nostalgia before you even get your tray: linoleum floors, handwritten specials, and that familiar perfume of smoke and sauce. It feels like family.
Since 1971, My Place has turned buffet dining into an Oklahoma ritual, offering ribs, brisket, sausage, and an impressive lineup of sides. Their vinegar slaw cuts through the smoke perfectly.
Tip: show up before 6 p.m. The locals know timing, and the ribs vanish fast once the after-work crowd starts piling in.
3. Stables Café (Guthrie)
Step inside and you’re surrounded by history, brick walls, high beams, and the kind of chatter that comes from regulars who’ve been returning for decades. The whole place hums with small-town ease.
Built inside a 19th-century horse stable, this café smokes its brisket for nearly 14 hours and serves buffet weekends that mix pit fare with country comfort.
There’s something grounding about it all: old wood, honest food, and the faint scent of hickory clinging to your shirt long after you’ve left.
4. RibCrib BBQ (Tulsa)
You’ll hear the sizzle before you smell the hickory, the line cooks moving like clockwork, the scent of caramelized rub floating through the dining room. There’s an energy here that says, we take ribs seriously.
Founded in 1992, RibCrib grew from a single Tulsa smokehouse into a statewide favorite, but its all-you-can-eat rib nights still feel local. Each slab carries just the right amount of tug before yielding.
Skip the sauce at first. The dry rub speaks loud enough, especially when the ribs are fresh from the pit.
5. Billy Sims BBQ (Tulsa)
A Heisman trophy might not scream “barbecue,” but Billy Sims’ face on the wall adds a playful dose of Oklahoma pride. The vibe blends sports-bar fun with real smokehouse grit.
Founded by the former OU running back, this chain’s buffet offerings, especially the smoked chicken and pulled pork, carry surprising consistency. The sauce has that molasses kick fans remember.
I once ate here on game day surrounded by crimson jerseys. It felt less like lunch and more like tailgating indoors, the smell of ribs replacing the roar of the crowd.
6. Wimpy’s Sandwich Shoppe (Stillwater)
From the street, Wimpy’s looks humble, but the first whiff of oak smoke tells you something bigger is happening inside. There’s a homegrown rhythm to the place, fast service, soft country radio, plates clinking in steady tempo.
Wimpy’s buffet leans into hearty classics: chopped brisket, baked beans thick with brown sugar, and cornbread that doesn’t crumble under pressure. It’s unpretentious in the best way.
Regulars know to grab dessert first, when the cobbler’s gone, it’s gone. Priorities, as they say, must be clear in life and barbecue.
7. Country Cottage Restaurant (Locust Grove)
Steam rises from the buffet like a promise, mashed potatoes, fried catfish, and ribs stacked beside a pan of buttered corn. The vibe feels like stepping into your aunt’s kitchen after church.
Country Cottage has been serving family-style barbecue and Southern staples for decades, and the buffet still draws crowds from nearby towns. The ribs here aren’t fancy, just deeply tender and touched with quiet smoke.
I always linger too long over dessert. Something about peach cobbler after hickory-sweet pork feels like a hymn sung softly.
8. King’s Custom Smoked Meats (Oklahoma City)
The neon crown outside might catch your eye, but it’s the scent of hickory and applewood that reels you in. Inside, the space hums with smokers running low and steady.
This family-owned spot prides itself on consistency, hand-rubbed brisket, sausage with snap, and ribs that pull clean off the bone. Everything is smoked on-site, no shortcuts.
You should get there before lunch rush. Once the trays hit the counter, the regulars descend like clockwork, and seconds are never guaranteed.
9. Maple Korean BBQ (Oklahoma City)
Your first clue you’re not in a typical Oklahoma smokehouse? The hiss of marinated short rib hitting the tabletop grill, and that soy-garlic perfume filling the room. It’s barbecue in conversation with its own identity.
At Maple, you cook the meat yourself, thinly sliced bulgogi, pork belly, even squid, over gas flames while side dishes circle the table like old friends.
I love how it turns dinner into play. You leave smelling faintly of sesame and smoke, the best kind of souvenir.
10. Wagyu Japanese BBQ
The first thing that catches you isn’t the sight but the sound, a quiet sizzle as ribbons of wagyu meet the tabletop grill. It’s intimate, precise, and far slower than a Southern buffet line, but that’s the point.
Here, the focus is on technique. You grill thin cuts of beef yourself, watching marbling dissolve into flavor. The meat is so buttery it barely needs dipping sauce.
My advice? Pace yourself. This is barbecue by meditation, not momentum, and every bite rewards patience with something close to reverence.
