Whatcha Smokin? — the answer

10/1/2025

The art of smoking animal flesh came late to Iowa. The Hawkeye state’s climate produced so much ice that our forebearers built ice houses to preserve our perishable foods. Smoking was a southern thing out of necessity. Before electric refrigeration, preservation required ice, salt or smoking, and salt had limited uses restricted to dried and dehydrated foods. 

Smoking in the American south evolved into multiple cultures depending on available proteins and woods. Carolina is richly endowed with pig meat, hickory and oak. Pine and pecan influenced smoking further south and west. Texas raised more cattle and depended on post oak and even mesquite. 

The smoking art came to Iowa through transplanted southern and Caribbean families. By the current century, gas smokers and environmental edicts changed the smoking art, in ways purists disparaged. Restaurants that cared about purity moved to isolated areas too small to have such encumbrances to the art as health codes and safety codes — like Luther. Wood piles disappeared or moved to the competition circuit.

The surest sign of authentic American barbecue is the sight of a wood pile. Whatcha Smokin? (WS) has multiple wood piles, covered in old fashioned water basins like the ones that cows and hogs used to drink from, back when hogs were allowed to grow up outdoors. WS even has backup wood piles. 

Everything about WS is huge. It includes three large buildings, a giant courtyard/picnic area, an adjoining park and a staff of mostly young workers in numbers that rival those of the entire town of Luther. Parking lots accommodate as many as 48 cars each. On one Saturday, we counted parked cars from four other states and as many Iowans from outside Boone/Story counties as from them. 

WS is a tourist attraction on the scale of the Amana Colonies, without the feeder system of an interstate highway. The food is much better at WS, too. The wood piles are responsible. I recently heard a guy in the bathroom exclaim, “It sure does smell good,” before others made him laugh about the situation he was complimenting. 

WS was founded in a motorcycle shop on Highway 17 by a transplanted Texan and, even under new ownership, its style and greatness resemble that of the best BBQ towns of central Texas — Luling, Llano, Taylor and Lockhart. That means that the star of the show is beef. Brisket is served both lean and fatty as in central Texas.

Because WS works closely with local producers, and Iowa has not been a top cattle state for more than half a century, pork is well represented with pulled shoulders, baby back ribs, loins and crafted sausages, which are a very central Texas thing. Turkey breast is also represented. Nine different rubs and five different sauces are offered. Unsmoked burgers and pork tenderloins are also on the menu. 

Side dishes are made on premises and include smoky beans, not-too-sweet slaw, jalapeno creamed corn, mac and cheese, fries, delectably crunchy cornbread, cheesy potatoes, cottage cheese and a seasonal one. Desserts are special including banana pudding, oatmeal pie, Pickett Fences’ free ranged ice cream, peanut butter cream brownies and a pie of the week. 

Daily specials all draw regular customers — brisket tacos on Tuesdays; brisket burnt ends on Wednesdays; pork belly burnt ends on Thursdays; hot honey homemade pimento and brisket sandwiches for Friday lunch and smoked prime rib for dinner; dino-sized beef ribs on Saturdays and smothered burritos or $5 Iowa twinkies (cream cheese, pulled pork, Ranch dressing and bacon wrapped jalapenos) on Sundays. 

WS is not expensive. A six-ounce serving of meat with two sides plus cornbread and pickles starts at $16. Because everything about WS is really big, WS offers a Big Feed special that includes three pounds of meats, four pints of sides with pickled cucumbers and red onions for $90. 

Whatcha Smokin? is the answer to a lot of good questions. ♦

Jim Duncan is a food writer who has been covering the central Iowa scene for more than five decades.