The way it’s s’posed to be

Jot 'Em Down
480 Macon Highway
706-549-2110

By DREW DIXON

I walk in and the aroma hits me. The smell of freshly cooked barbecue is heavy and mixes well with the smoky sensation coming from the direction of the kitchen. After you get past the smell, the Cracker Barrel thrift store feeling sets in. Jot ‘Em Down is not just a restaurant; there’s also have a store where you can buy T-shirts, bags, and small trinkets that will likely spend their lives on a shelf or mantelpiece collecting dust.

Located at 480 Macon Highway halfway between Milledge Avenue and Lumpkin Street, Jot ‘Em Down BBQ and Store originally called a small (“small” being an exaggeration; it was tiny—laughably petite) shack out on Barnett Shoals Rd. home until 2008. It could seat 10 people. The new one seats around 100, and stays open from 10:30 am until 9:00 pm Monday-Saturday and 11:00 am until 9:00 pm on Sundays.

I sit down with a group of friends in Jot ‘Em’s back room by the bar. This room can be rented out for private parties, but tonight it’s just my four friends and myself accompanied by what looks like two regulars sitting at the bar. Every TV is on ESPN, except the one that the regulars are watching. It’s on the E! Network, playing the movie Knocked Up—an odd thing to see in a BBQ restaurant.

The menu has grown as well since Jot ‘Em’s move to Macon Hwy. As I look it over, I now see quail, smoked sausage, and chicken. But I order the BBQ. Why go to a steak house and get a salad? I want what this place is known for.

I order the pulled pork plate with stew and potato salad. Two of my friends get the same thing. The other two get the pulled pork sandwich with sides of fries and slaw. In the middle of the table sits a 6-pack cardboard carton containing some of Jot ‘Em’s signature sauces. I choose Taylor’s X—a spicy vinegar based sauce—and Green Hell—the spicier version of Taylor’s X. I like spice.

The BBQ is great. It’s tender and moist, soaking up the sauce I’m drenching it with. I like sauce.

The stew is as good as my aunt’s. The little bits of shredded beef mix with the soupy broth and just the right amount of (hooray!) spice make for a very nice side. My only wish is that it came with more. The standard “side” amount, to me, is nowhere near enough.

The potato salad is basic—good, but nothing impressive. Cubed chunks of potato are covered in a mustard sauce; traces of dill and onion litter the salad, giving the taste its standard bite and the texture a nice crunch; I conjure up images of picnics after church when I was little.

The fries are adequate at best. Granted, I’m not a fry person. They look (and taste) like the kind of fries everyone’s friend’s mom used to buy in bulk at the grocery when you were little—frozen and in a bag. The slaw is simple as well. Cut finer than most, it doesn’t vary much from that standard sour taste that always fills my mouth even when I think of the word “slaw.”

For dessert, I convince my roommate that to buy a slice of the Peanut Butter Cup Cheesecake. I haven’t had it, but the name itself blatantly says that it can’t be bad. He caves easily. It’s a delicious treat; the crust is a gingerbread crumb crust, contrasting nicely with the light peanut butter and chocolate cake filling.

The meal in total cost me $10 flat, including a two-dollar tip. As I leave, I get one last deep breath of the smoky air, knowing I’ll be back soon. I make my way through the tables covered in their red and white picnic-checkered patterns and out the front door. Even outside now, the smell of the BBQ is still with me.

“BBQ The Way It’s S’posed to be!” claims their sign outside. Yeah, I’d agree with that.