Heck, we found the place by sheer accident.
We ( the inlaws) were out on a Sunday cruise on our Vespa's, and just wandering around on little back roads we'd never been on just to see where they went. Well, we were low on gas, and we came out to rt. 144, and pulled over at the Citco station to gas up. We pull in, cut the motors and then we get hit by the smell.
Cooking meat has a smell all it's own. Especially when your hungry. We look over, there's this big biker looking guy who should be named Bear, tending two big black cookers on wheels. We ask what he has, and he lifts up both lids so smoke bellows out, and we see brisket, ribs, chicken, pork, and corn. He says "Whadawant?"with a big grin.
Ends up we all get something different so we can pass our plates around to each other. Sister in law Diane got the chicken, Brother in law got the ribs, I got the brisket, and Karen got some pulled pork. It was a feast for a king. A meat eating king.
So these days, when the inlaws ride, we make plans to somehow end up around Lisbon Maryland at lunch time. We don't bother eating breakfast, so we're good and hungry when we get there.
Carl.