This Unfussy Wisconsin Barbecue Spot Is Worth The Miles
Wisconsin doesn’t often make the barbecue headlines, but LD’s in East Troy doesn’t need fanfare. Smoke does the talking, rolling from oak logs stacked neatly behind a plain building that could almost pass unnoticed.
Step inside and the scent hits hard: brisket with a perfect bark, ribs sliding clean from the bone, burnt ends sticky enough to make you forget conversation. Service is quick, prices fair, and the room hums with locals and road-trippers alike.
It’s not flash, it’s patience, meat tended until flavor turns undeniable. LD’s is worth the drive, and then some.
Address And Hours At A Glance
Pulling into East Troy, LD’s sits at 2511 Main Street, a plain building that doesn’t waste time on appearances. Inside, the pace is brisk and direct.
The hours are set in stone: Wednesday and Thursday 11–7, Friday and Saturday 11–8, Sunday 11–7. Mondays and Tuesdays, the doors stay shut.
I once made the drive on a Wednesday just to know brisket was waiting. That reliability matters. In barbecue, so many places sell out or shut down early, here you can plan without fear.
All-Day Oak Wood Smoke
Step out of your car and the first thing you notice isn’t the sign, it’s the smoke. Thin curls of oak drift across the lot, sticking to your clothes.
Oak is steady, not harsh. It burns cleaner than hickory, more even than mesquite, giving meats a balanced backbone of flavor. The stacks behind the pit are always seasoned, always ready.
The smoke lingers, and I kind of love that. Driving home later, my jacket smelled like oak, like I’d carried a little bit of LD’s with me.
Brisket, A Reputation Builder
Slices land on trays with a visible smoke ring, bark dark and glistening. Chopped brisket comes juicy, strands tumbling over themselves.
This cut is the cornerstone. Order it by the pound or pair it with sides, the technique is old-school: simple rub, long oak smoke, plenty of patience.
I go sliced every time. The contrast of charred crust and tender interior is unbeatable, especially with cornbread on the side. It’s the plate that explains why LD’s became a name people drive miles for.
Award-Winning Ribs
The racks arrive lacquered, edges pulling gently back from the bone. The texture is tender but not falling apart, just the way competition judges like it.
LD’s rib history is lined with wins, Ribfest Grand Champion, plus trophies across brisket, chicken, pork, and sauce. That list isn’t decoration; it’s a résumé earned on smoke and timing.
I tried them on a Saturday afternoon and finally understood the ribbons. Each bite balanced smoke, spice, and glaze so well that I didn’t even want sauce on the side.
Burnt Ends, Plan Ahead
Cubes of brisket caramelize into sticky, smoky morsels, half meat, half candy. The aroma of fat meeting flame is unmistakable.
They don’t appear every day, and when they do, they vanish quickly. Specials board is the only clue, and the safest move is pre-ordering.
I learned the hard way. Showed up late once and they were gone. Next time, I reserved ahead, and sitting with that box of sweet, smoky ends felt like winning the lottery.
Straightforward Sides
Cornbread lands with a crisp edge, just sweet enough. Potato salad is creamy, cole slaw sharp and clean, ribs-n-beans earthy with smoke.
None of the sides are flashy, they’re built for balance, not attention. They exist to reset your palate so the meat shines.
My brisket plate always gets a side of slaw. That tangy crunch against the fat keeps me eating longer than I should, which is exactly the point of a good side.
Classic Sandwiches
Pulled pork spills from soft buns, strands smoky and tender, while chopped brisket sandwiches drip just enough juice to soak into bread.
They’re rooted in tradition, barbecue as handheld fuel, meant for workers and travelers. No piled-up gimmicks, just the right ratio of meat to bun.
I once grabbed a pork sandwich to eat in the car. It held together better than I expected, and the smoke carried through every bite. Simple, tidy, exactly what a barbecue sandwich should be.
Sampler, A First Visit Pathway
The trays come loaded: brisket, ribs, pulled pork, maybe chicken. It’s the kind of order that lands heavy on the table.
Samplers make sense here. Instead of guessing, you taste the lineup in one shot, then pick favorites for next time. It’s a smart introduction.
I shared a sampler on my first trip and was grateful. Splitting bites with friends meant I could compare without overstuffing myself. Next visit, I knew exactly which plate I wanted.
Unique Daily Specials
On Wednesdays, the smoker shifts to meatloaf. Sundays, the board might announce something new, always tied to comfort-food tradition.
That rhythm breaks the cycle, keeping locals engaged while still honoring the core menu. It proves the kitchen has more range than ribs and brisket.
I dropped by on a meatloaf Wednesday and it floored me. Sauced, smoky, tender, it tasted like family dinner reimagined through oak smoke. It’s one of the few times I wished I lived closer just to catch the rotation.
From Trailer To Destination
The story begins small: Leon Davis serving barbecue from a trailer, building a following one plate at a time. The setup was modest, but the food already had weight.
By 2018, demand pushed LD’s into its current Main Street home, where the smoker finally had the space it deserved. The move didn’t change the focus, only the capacity.
That origin sticks with me. Eating brisket here feels different when you know it started roadside. Success tastes better when it comes layered with persistence.
Catering And On-Site Options
The trailer that launched LD’s hasn’t retired, it still rolls out for events, smoker in tow, staff ready to serve. The setup looks like a traveling smokehouse, complete with that familiar oak haze.
Packages keep it simple: per-person pricing, trays of brisket, pulled pork, ribs, and sides. It scales without losing the character of the restaurant.
I tasted LD’s at a catered wedding once. The brisket was as smoky and tender as in-house, and the smell drifted across the whole party like a promise.
Simple Room, Friendly Pace
Review sites tell a steady story: strong ratings, hundreds of comments, and a recurring word, consistent. In barbecue, that’s one of the hardest things to achieve.
It means the smoker runs true, the kitchen doesn’t cut corners, and the staff knows the rhythm by heart. Patterns like that build loyalty.
Before my first visit, I thought the reviews sounded too glowing. After eating, I understood. The praise wasn’t fluff, it was earned, one tray at a time.