We love being in this family-run establishment, which first opened as a grocery in 1946. It makes its home in an old basketball court, the high ceilings and once-green walls having long ago turned varying shades of greasy brown and black from all the smoke. Dim lighting and the tap of feet shuffling against hardwood floors almost give Louie’s the feeling of a chapel.

And a typically Texas Hill Country religious experience this is. Definitely go with moist and fatty brisket—it’s pretty well rendered and with great bark, but it’s not even the best work here. That honor’s reserved for beef ribs, a rare find. They’re wonderfully tender and smoky...and huge, like the Brontosaurus ribs from The Flintstones. Don’t miss the jalapeño beef sausage, with a wonderfully grainy texture and juicy squirt; it’s hot, so keep your sweet tea handy.

Louie’s sauce is one of the best we’ve had: it’s thin, spicy, and vinegar-tart, without a bit of sweetness that would mask any of the meat’s subtle nuances. Cole slaw is a little too salty, but mustardy potato salad’s spot on. Draft beer is another rare treat not offered at many barbecue places. Warning: Louie’s closes once it runs out, which is sometimes before the posted time.