Bark Barbecue - Bushwick

Bark is the product of a remarkable journey: Pitmaster Ruben Santana began smoking meats during the pandemic, and a pop-up couldn’t keep pace with demand for his Dominican-inflected Texas barbecue for long. After a stint at Time Out Market, he's opened his first brick-and-mortar: a huge, spiffy new hall in Bushwick, already swarmed with curious diners. And that makes sense because–and I don’t say this lightly–Bark is quite possibly the best barbecue in New York City.

The place is big, with two levels of communal tables, a mix of high and low-tops. The room is, like many other barbecue joints, soaring with an almost industrial scale. The place has an easy-to-understand, convenient layout. And there seems to be a high ratio of staff to guests, so cordial, helpful guidance or assistance is never far. The place hums with efficiency.

There’s a bar, but they don’t serve liquor–only beer and wine and some soju cocktails. The selections aren’t expansive, but that’s not why you’re here, and they get the job done just fine.

I would never make a claim that New York’s barbecue compares to Texas’ for the same reason that a Texan’s claims about bagels would fall on deaf ears. But Mr. Santana obviates comparison with a deft move: blending Texas barbecue with Dominican gastronomy. The two, it turns out, have a beautiful affinity. Rice and beans soak up sauce wonderfully, and maduros (plantains) offer a similar starchy sweet element as cornbread.

As far as typical sides go, they’re top-notch. The mac & cheese is mornay sauce-based and tray-baked, giving the oftentimes throwaway dish character and depth of flavor that you don’t get from the more typical cheese emulsified in milk. The cornbread, though a touch dry, had excellent flavor and a hint of warm spice. Pickles are a must with barbecue–the crunch and acid keep a meal from getting tonal. Here, they come in a mix of veg: pickled cucumber, sweet pepper, and onion. They worked a treat.

The meat is phenomenal. The brisket is tender, fatty, moist, and smoky, its bark carrying a strong black-pepper-and-coffee character that wakes everything up. The pork ribs are similarly tender, fall-off-the-bone, saucy without drowning in mesquite or molasses. And that judicious saucing lets the meat’s flavor shine through. The longaniza sausage is flavorful if a touch dry, its spice adding welcome dimension to the meal. But the star is the chicharrón: Dominican-style fried pork belly, crispy and salty outside, unctuous and tender within. It’s a dish you won't find at any other barbecue spot in the city, and the one that lingers in my mind.

My dining partner and I sat down to a full tray: small servings of every side listed above, half-pound portions of each meat. The bill didn't break $120, tip included. And the counter staff earned that tip–friendly and obliging, they kept the line moving with an easy efficiency.

There's plenty left to try: rib tips, the whole smoked hog, smoked carnitas, sofrito chicken, and a full sandwich complement. This is a filling meal, so don't plan a makeout session or CrossFit workout afterward. And I haven't even touched on the cafecito coffee counter that runs in the mornings. Oh well, looks like I have no choice but to return.