Cheap Eats - The pig stands alone
Meat’s a treat at Potbellies Barbecue, but sides are weak
Someone who learned the fine art of barbecuing from her daddy, who’s been running his own joint for 15 years, must know a trick or two herself. As such, we had high hopes for Tara Plumlee and her 14-hour smoked meats served up at months-old Potbellies Barbecue in Marietta. We set out for the restaurant with visions of sticky ribs and moist chopped chicken dancing in our heads. Be advised by MapQuest for Potbellies’ location before hitting the road: When we phone, no one at the restaurant seems any more familiar with the area than we are. After a few U-turns and doubling back, we finally find the cheery restaurant. The staff may not know Potbellies’ street address, but what they lack in geographical smarts, they more than make up for with friendly enthusiasm.
Sheets of corrugated steel and tin camp lanterns lend hominess to the sterile former Boston Market location. The booths upholstered in multicolored checkered vinyl are comfortable and the restaurant is spotlessly clean.
Brunswick who?:
As barbecue spots are rarely much better than their Brunswick stew ($3.09), trying Potbellies’ was a must. The stew is actually a tart vegetable soup, chunky with tomatoes, dotted with yellow corn and bits of chopped pork. Had it been sold as such, it would have been a winner. But as it stood, the Brunswick stew bore little resemblance to the thick, slightly sweet Southern favorite that has more to do with hash than soup.
Macaroni, please:
Wings ($4.09 for six) are disappointing as well. We’re hoping for spicy barbecued wings, but instead are presented with garlicky Cheetos-orange drumettes that my companion swears have been stolen from Hooters. The batter’s an inch thick and crispy, if a bit gummy, though it’s evident the chunky, bracingly pungent blue cheese dressing is homemade. At a barbecue spot, the sauce can be less than brilliant, the pies can be thoroughly average, but when the sides are a letdown? The whole meal collapses from there. Onion rings thick with breading taste like the bought-in-bulk frozen sort. Cole slaw is soggy, wet and syrupy sweet. Saddest of all, the pasty, mushy macaroni and cheese is the same stuff you’d find at an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Nice to meat you:
During out first meal at Potbellies, chopped chicken ($9.09 with two sides) is shredded to a delicate featheriness, succulent and perfectly delectable without sauce. The ribs ($9.09 for a half-pound with two sides) are served lukewarm, and the charred, caramelized sides are soft. Nevertheless, the ribs are buttery, smoky and hefty, and the hot barbecue sauce is so blazingly peppery it’ll make you cuss. On the second visit, we try the shredded meat sandwiches ($3.89, regular; $4.89, jumbo) and joyfully find that they’re satisfying fistfuls of earthy, fat-dotted beef and smoky pork, dripping with sweet, hickory-tangy sauce on squishy buns.
Potbellies’ shredded pork, beef and chicken are worth an OTP venture, and a handy drive-up window gives you the option of not having to leave the comfort of your car. But whether you dine in automotive splendor or in one of the restaurant’s roomy booths, hold the sides and go for the meat.