Where’s the beef barbecue?

Encircled by blackened crust above a pink smoke ring and a ribbon of translucent fat that really will melt in your mouth, Ironhead BBQ’s wagyu brisket is an edible exclamation point. At $23 for a full plate that includes several slices, two side dishes, a Texas-thick tile of white bread, and pickles along with pickled onions, it is not millionaire-level A5 Japanese wagyu. Neither is it run-of-the-mill pit-cooked brisket. 

The warm meat yields easily, offering token resistance that invites teeth to glide right through. If its umami had a voice, it would sing lyric baritone. Gather a measure of fat with every bite and the resulting mouthful is so completely satisfying that any kind of barbecue sauce would be an unwelcome distraction.