Never has a new restaurant filled me with such equal measures of excitement and dread as Heritage Barbecue, which opened in August across the street from the mission in San Juan Capistrano.
My first couple of attempts to dine here end in dread. As soon as I park the car and round the corner on foot, my jaw drops as I notice a queue stretching nearly two blocks down the street.
I walk up to a staffer working crowd control. “How long’s the wait?” I ask, already dreading the answer.
“We’re guessing 2 hours,” she says. “Maybe more.”
My stomach growls. It’s 95 degrees outside, not a cloud in sight. Plus, the pandemic.
I abort. I’ll try again a few days later.
The restaurant staff posts updates about wait times on Twitter, so I stalk my feed until they tweet something that sounds reasonable, like “30 minute wait!”
I drop everything and race halfway across the county again. By the time I find a place to park, it’s obvious that every single person on Twitter saw that same message. The line is even longer this time. I sulk back to the car, defeated.
Luckily, third time’s a charm. When I arrive midweek shortly after opening time, I find only 12 people in line, and it takes roughly 20 minutes before I’m holding a ridiculous pile of meat, including several pounds of brisket, a half dozen sausages, plus all the sides and trimmings. No dread today. And leftovers for days.
Before I take a bite, I already know this is easily the best brisket in Orange County. I wrote about it months before the restaurant opened. Chef/owner Daniel Castillo developed a cult following in recent years by hauling a mobile smoker the size of a large horse trailer to the parking lots of various breweries. The line for his food at those events always exceeded three or four hours. I watched people pass out while they waited.
Then, when the pandemic hit, he shifted his sales exclusively online until the restaurant was finally cleared to open. Now that it has, this is the only place to get that brisket, and you’ll have to get in line. They don’t do phone orders. They don’t have a phone.
When Heritage Barbecue debuted in August, people began lining up the night before. When the kitchen window finally opened, the line already stretched a quarter mile down the street, maybe farther.
Castillo is a rock star. His music is barbecue. His instrument is a massive 1,000-gallon smoker. Two of those smokers, actually, and he has two more on the way. Although common in Texas, these offset barrel contraptions are a rare sight around here. (Incidentally, the guy who builds them is opening a barbecue joint of his own in Costa Mesa later this year.)
Hardwood coals smolder in a box at one end of the barrel while smoke escapes only from a pipe at the opposite end. So all that smoke has plenty of room to linger and circulate, pushing the temperature inside to just above 200 degrees. This is the epitome of low and slow. This is not easy work, especially in the heat of summer. And this is exactly what’s always been missing from the barbecue scene in California.
The cornerstone of any real Texas barbecue joint, of course, is the brisket. Briskets and beef ribs spend 14 hours atop the metal grates inside those barrels. (Fair warning: The beef ribs are available only on weekends, which is when the lines are longest, thus I haven’t tasted those yet.) Pork ribs don’t take nearly as long, but nobody’s here for the pork, although that might be the only consolation prize if you show up late in the afternoon and the kitchen announces they’ve just run out of brisket while you’re still in line.
Castillo’s team makes everything from scratch, including smoked sausages (which are far more important to Texas barbecue than pork ribs). All meats come with house-made pickled jalapeños and barbecue sauce. Frankly, though, this style of barbecue doesn’t need sauce because the meats are so juicy and concentrated with flavor. Good thing, too, because I find the barbecue sauce here exceedingly sweet. It’s as if someone dissolved two pounds of brown sugar for every gallon of molasses. It’s a surefire shortcut to diabetes. For what it’s worth, they do make their own whole-grain mustard, which is terrific.
The side dishes are unusually froufrou for a barbecue joint. The potato salad is a boldly flavored puzzle made with blue cheese, pickled eggs and bacon. The slaw combines two types of roasted cabbage, cotija cheese and jalapeño buttermilk dressing. I suppose both are delicious, but I’d categorize them as acquired tastes.
My favorite side is the borracho beans, which contain nearly as much brisket as pinto beans. As I’m eating these I can’t help but think, “Dang, these beans would make an absolutely incredible burrito.”
The entire dining room is outdoors, a series of picnic tables and a fire pit. It’s a classic Texas-style beer garden. Problem is, there is only one scrawny sycamore tree at the center of it all. Thus, no shade. And no umbrellas. So most days you’ll be dining in the blazing sun. Maybe that’s by design so guests don’t linger too long.
There is a small bar attached, which pours a dozen beers on tap, but it’s not operated by the Heritage team. It’s a separate business run by Capistrano Brewing Company. If you want a beer, or even a bottle of water, you’ll have to get in another line after you’ve ordered and paid for your barbecue. Fortunately, that one’s really quick.
Heritage Barbecue
Where: 31721 Camino Capistrano, San Juan Capistrano
When: First order taken at 3 p.m., Wednesday-Friday; noon Saturday-Sunday. Kitchen closes when it runs out of barbecue, which could be anytime between 5 and 7 p.m. Bar opens daily at noon.
Cost: Brisket and beef ribs, $30 per pound; pork ribs, $26 per pound.; sausage, $6 per link; most sides $6 per serving.
Online: heritagecraftbbq.com
No phone
COVID Comfort Rating: B
Temperature checks: No
Masks enforced for customers: Yes
Masks worn by staff: Yes
Gloves worn by staff: Yes
Hand sanitizer available: Yes, prevalent
Outside dining: Yes
Inside dining: No
Dining at the bar: No
Tables sanitized: Yes
Chairs sanitized: No
Seating properly distanced: Yes
Touchless menus: Yes
Other: Although most people in line are properly distanced, some get hot and remove their masks. However, masks are required once you get to the front of the line.
