My little corner of Bed-Stuy has seen some changes in the four years I’ve been here, but the most marked improvement is courtesy of the barbecue truck that has migrated from Coney Island to the previously underused lot across the street from my building.
I repeat: There is a truck. Selling BBQ. Parked across the street from my apartment.
The carnivorous man with whom I live has the cheeseburger two to three times a week, when finances permit. Charred and juicy beef, on a bun barely held together under the weight of oozing cheese, onion, pickle, lettuce and tomato, it’s one of the most satisfying ways to spend $5 in the neighborhood. Add two bucks and get the fries. They’re worth it.
I go for the brisket sandwich—moist meat with a salty, well-seasoned exterior, a splash of homemade barbecue sauce and crunchy dill pickles—and a side of the addictive jalapeño and cheese grits.
The only downside to this minor miracle? There’s no walking it off when you’re just crossing the road.
Kings County BBQ
168 Quincy Street, Brooklyn