Smokin’ Pete’s stands out as a neighborhood joint that has, at some point, actually paid attention to the art of smoking. Smoked to a perfect fat-mostly-rendered tenderness and happily moist, the meat is served dry (free of sauce) so that one can actually taste the smoke. There are sauce options at hand. Taste them. Don’t overuse them. The ‘hot’ is not, particularly, and I haven’t been able to taste the difference between the presauce ‘hot’ and ‘not’ levels of spice. Perhaps the offer is meant more as a psychological balm aimed at whatever local neurosis has limited Seattle barbecue to its generally unfortunate state.
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