To commemorate such an epic report, I posted this lengthy reply on the blog... but it bears repeating here... though I've retired from yelp:
I stopped by yesterday as well. I'm thrilled that they're back. I'll be posting at length, sooner or later.
BBQ is expensive the first time, when you feel obliged to try as much as you can. It's a worthwhile expense, because it gives you a pretty good idea of the overall philosophy and competence of the place. After that, just order smaller plates. In the original Longhorn's, after a while, I would usually get some $6.99 mini sandwich combo.
The refill thing struck me as odd, but if a BBQ joint makes their own lemonade, it's hard for me to order anything else. But, FWIW, while I was there, a soft drink guy was fixing a carbonation system, so maybe there will be a self-serve fountain, but not yet.
As for some of the stuff you're put off by, I'll refer to my
obit of the Castaic location:
I think there is a cultural disconnect that makes it difficult for authentic barbecue to thrive in the SCV. Local patrons are often put off by things that are commonplace in barbecue-friendly areas: the slice of Wonder bread, the sauce held in Crock-Pots, day-to-day inconsistencies in texture and taste, the visible fat in the brisket or pulled pork and the occasional unavailability of a meat or two. Elsewhere, that just goes with the territory, but too many locals find it unacceptable. Worse still, we’re spoiled by the consistency of the assembly-line faux-Q that SCV is famous for.
Add to that: unglamorous dining area. The last location had loads of charm with its long wooden tables and what not. The new spot doesn't score as high, but even as a ghost of Taco Bell, it's well within the expected range when it comes to barbecue in much of the country.
I don't say any of that to condescend, but to translate. There's always going to be that tension, and they'll struggle to find the middle ground between an authentic expression of place and manner and their customers' expectations.
For example, they now serve a fairly tasty roll with their combos instead of a slice or two of white sandwich bread. The sliced bread was a big turn off in the SCV, where people equate it with being cheap. It is cheap, but for whatever reason, it's standard in every great barbecue place I've been to outside of California. In California, I've never had bad barbecue at a place that gives you white sandwich bread. It's a little wink that tells you they are for real. (and with that, I hope LH brings it back, even if on request).
The sauce in crock pots are a turnoff to some people I've talked to, but I think they're wonderful. First and foremost, they make their own sauce. Fresh homemade sauce matters so much. At home, I never mess with bottled sauce when making proper barbecue, ever. Also, warm sauce is better, anyway. It's probably a health code issue, too. Mustard sauce on the pork is pretty good, BTW.
All of that to say, adjusting your expectations is step one in enjoying a barbecue joint. In some contexts, it matters, but it helps to embrace the quirks of a dining experience that after all, is usually best enjoyed in someone's back yard.
