Review: Adam's Smokehouse in St. Louis

Adam’s Smokehouse, which opened in Clifton Heights last fall, boasts an ownership and management team with intimate ties to both Pappy’s and Bogart’s smokehouses. One of its specialties is brisket, which just might bring you to your knees. The smoked salami alone is worth the pilgrimage. Other cuts, however, aren’t worship-worthy just yet.

Meat me in St. Louis
The melt-in-your-mouth brisket was the star of the show. Adam’s sliced it thin as deli meat, and its reddish trim and smoky taste were rapturous. Only a heretic would put a drop of sauce on it. That masterful smoked salami was flecked with fat and black pepper, and arrived on the tongue with an umami-blast of salty, meaty goodness. Smoked turkey, so often the overlooked stepsister of pork ’cue, was another, more minor revelation of deliciousness.

Of course, ribs are the sine qua non of a smokehouse. While Adam’s ribs had a juicy texture and tasty cap of smoked fat and muscle above the ribs themselves, they weren’t smoky enough and lacked something – possibly rub – to make them stand out. The chicken (served whole or by the half) was moist and smoker-pink, but was slathered thickly in a cranberry cayenne sauce. If you’re not nuts about the sharp flavor of cayenne, ask for it unsauced. Unfortunately, the pulled pork was overcooked and had to be rescued with one of Adam’s sauces. And the burnt ends, a Wednesday and Saturday off-menu special, were missing the concentrated burst of caramelized flavor the meat normally has.

A trinity of sauces
While many barbecue joints around town leave a half-dozen sauces at each table, Adam’s exercises austerity with a simple selection of three. Sweet Jane is its version of St. Louis’ preferred, heavily sugared sauce; it was sweet but not cloying. The aforementioned cranberry cayenne was tangy and left a bit of heat lingering on the tongue. It’s a bold combo of flavors that will likely divide the crowd – you’ll either love it or say “nuh-uh.” Carolina is that region’s signature thin, vinegar-based sauce, and was done with aplomb.

Sides and other diversions
The pit beans were dotted with bits of pork, but the smoke flavor was overwhelmed by a pronounced brown-sugar sweetness. The potato salad – made with both mustard and mayo – and a creamy slaw were identical, respectively, to what you’d find at Pappy’s and Bogart’s. A mild house-made pasta salad was thoroughly enlivened by a squirt of the Carolina sauce. The menu had no desserts, but a decorative pig filled with free chocolate crouched near the register.

Service at light speed
The service ethic at Adam’s was identical to that of its sister restaurants: Everyone worked their asses off, and the customer was king. The speed at Adam’s was thunderbolt-quick; you might order at the register and suddenly notice, before finding a table, a server hovering next to you with your order in a basket. Yet the staff was far from coldly efficient or impersonal. Everyone was so kind that they made this first-timer feel like a regular. The management frequently visited the tables to assure everything was in order, a rare and welcome gesture these days.

The takeaway
Adam’s has a wonderfully simple menu that befits a barbecue joint. It’s easy to figure out your favorites and worth returning for them again and again. The juicy, smoky brisket, salami and turkey are enough to drive any decent person to sin – gluttony, for those who live nearby, and envy, for those who don’t.