There’s something wonderfully apt in the triumph of Tom Jenkins: American cuisine made an American success story.

In case you are one of the few who doesn’t already know the story, it is a tale of two young men with a dream.

Harry Harrell was a project manager for IBM and his pal, Gary Torrence, taught math in a Broward middle school. They were longtime friends who shared a passion for barbecue fired by a treasured family recipe for sauce and a belief in the power of committed entrepreneurs. Trouble was, given the failure rate among restaurant startups, banks didn’t share their optimism.

That didn’t dim their plans. The two had been running a barbecue operation on weekends out of a 12-foot trailer parked along the street. They believed in their sauce and they believed in their location, so they pooled their resources, borrowed from family and got to work.

Fate gave them a nudge when IBM downsized and Harrell lost his job; what they had long discussed took on a new urgency, and the pair built a restaurant across the street from where they’d been parking their trailer.

Tom Jenkins, named after Torrence’s uncle, opened in 1996 and was profitable within a year. How profitable? Whether you go for lunch or dinner, plan to join a line at the cash register. On weekends, the line stretches out the door and around the building.

There are only 40 seats inside the restaurant, all at uncomfortable picnic benches, so many diners call ahead for pickup.

The line is one indication of support for Tom Jenkins’ quality, but another is evident even before the restaurant, a small log cabinlike building, comes into view. The rich aroma of hickory smoke pervades the neighborhood, and it smells very good indeed.

Hickory pervades all the meats at Tom Jenkins without ever overriding their natural flavor while supporting the sharp tang of the barbecue sauce. It is that balance of the three crucial elements the puts Tom Jenkins at the front of the barbecue pack.

A good starting point for those newly arrived at the pearly gates of barbecue is a combination plate of a quarter chicken and a handful of spare ribs ($6.25). The fact the chicken is moist and the spare ribs are lean affirms the seriousness of intent here, so you shouldn’t feel bad about going through the line again for an order of the real triumph at Tom Jenkins, the baby back ribs that are only $9.45 for a full slab. For an extra dollar (or less with many of the plates), you can get a moist corn muffin and two side dishes. The sides are all made in house and worth trying; my favorites are the tangy baked beans, collard greens with tiny cubes of meat sprinkled throughout, and a crisp and not overly sweet coleslaw.

Catfish with hushpuppies ($7.95) often comes as an afterthought for diners when it turns out someone in the party just isn’t a carnivore. But once they’ve tried it, many rib eaters opt for the catfish, too, as a welcome change of pace. It’s moist and crisp without being greasy. For a quick bite, regulars may choose a plate ($10.95) or just a sandwich ($3.95) of chopped beef or pork, adding enough sauce to add a pleasant glow. Now and then someone stops by to pick up an extra large order for a party ($100 gets a selection of chicken, ribs and sides big enough to feed 15-20), and everyone in line breathes a sigh that seems to beg for an invitation.

Every food writer has favorite haunts for days off, a quick bite or a bit of rumination. Tom Jenkins is one of mine, a good spot for casual pondering on how the simplest food is sometimes the best. I like the informality and smoky aroma of the place, but it’s the sauce that makes the Jenkins experience complete in my book. Tangy like a good East Coast sauce, it builds in just enough Memphis sweetness and Kansas City heat and shuns the molasses component favored by some Northern backyard enthusiasts.

Torrence and Harrell are anything but backyard smokers — this is the real thing, and line or no, it’s worth a long wait to have food this satisfying.

Please phone in advance to confirm information on hours, prices, menu items and facilities. For review consideration, please fax a current menu that includes name and address of restaurant to 954-356-4386 or send to Sun-Sentinel, 200 E. Las Olas Blvd., Fort Lauderdale, FL 33301-2293.

If you would like to contact freelance writer Lyn Farmer, e-mail him at or write to him in care of the Sun-Sentinel.