A man walks into a butchershop and asks if he can work for free, it starts as one and then he just keeps showing up. Thus begins the long descent down a rabbit hole that spans the better part of a decade and travels to multiple continents in search of knowledge and craft. It culminates in something primitive - an open fire and a piece of unsold meat - and something unusual starts cooking.

Two decades of experience in hospitality comes down to a few basic principles - mother nature’s a better cook, so get out of her way; it’s just food, but it’s not just food; joy is contagious; love is love is love; brisket is objectively better when it’s smoked; you don’t have to pull pork for it to be pulled pork; don’t wash your car or mow your lawn in the dark; always check for toilet paper before sitting down, and most of all, remember that at the end of a life it’s about what you did for a living its what living you did with your life.

Luck isn’t made, nor is it found, it is conjured and you can’t make it alone. Bad Luck BBQ isn’t one person and a smoker. It’s a husband and a wife. A crew of guys and gals and a couple of lawn flamingos. It’s farmers and fresh produce, and the hands that pick them. It’s a cadre of people behind the scenes - people who drive, people who chop, people who feed and nurture everything that gets to you through us. Bad Luck isn’t a place. It’s a state of mind.

We use the best we can. We call the farms directly for everything you see. We use 100

But it’s also really good barbecue.